#YOU ALL DID. BURSTS INTO TEARS AND STARTS PUNCHING AIR

[starheirxero]

I am back once more! :D Lunar and Earth finally talked, and by golly, it is everything and more! Watching them both go through their issues together, and realize their flaws is kind of…therapeutic? In a way??? There are also so many parallels! Between Lunar and Earth, between Lunar and Eclipse(which made me go feral), even between Earth and the Creator in some way!

The thing that really got me is the realization, that Lunar and Earth are opposites in almost every way, and looking at things through this perspective is so interesting!

Earth feels as though her feelings have no value, as though they don't matter! She always puts others before herself, even expressing guilt for her breakdown!

Lunar, on the other hand, has a habit of putting themself first. That itself isn't a bad thing, of course, but they made it a habit to force their emotions onto others, to the point where the people around them felt the need to walk on eggshells!

Where Earth is very down to earth, Lunar is always in the clouds. Where Lunar acts on impulse, both verbally and physically, Earth overthinks, to the point, that she forgets to act.

Even in their grief, they acted like polar opposites. One shut down, while the other screamed and shouted!

I am such a freak when it comes to psychology, so this is just- It's making me feral, it's turning me into a rabid animal-

Both reflect the places they come from as well.

Lunar is emotionally immature, due to the trauma they faced. They feel as though they are stuck being the kid they were originally created to be, never having the chance to grow, before another thing was thrown at them, causing a hold in their worldview, if that makes sense! They act out, and push their emotions on others, because Eclipse always disregarded them. He never took their feelings seriously, and even now keeps teasing them for it. So of course, they actively push them onto others, now that there are people who will listen!

Earth, on the other hand, was always created with a clear purpose. She was made to be the caretaker. She was made to be perfect. From the moment she first opened her eyes, the expectations of perfection were put on her shoulders.

It's really interesting to think about.

The Creator had too many expectations, and his positive relationship to Earth gave her the need to fulfill those expectations. Eclipse had no expectations. He never gave Lunar an objective to live up to, and would push them down, everytime they tried to look for one.

The Creator, despite his good relationship to Earth, never cared for her. He only kept her close, calling her his "dearest daughter" for his own benefit. There was never an ounce of care for her, to the point, where he simply dropped the mask and insulted her. Eclipse, despite his negative, and very unhealthy relationship to Lunar, did care for them in a strange way. However, he kept pushing them away, because he didn't understand love and care, probably afraid of it. He treated them like a tool and even took ownership of them by saying things like "you belong to me", because it was the only way to keep them close in his twisted mind.

Speaking of their "first person", both of them act different in that regard too!

Earth is nothing like her father.

Meanwhile, Lunar has been shown to share quite a few of traits with Eclipse. Even in this video alone, there's the way they used to act in anger. Like Eclipse, Lunar reacts with anger and violence, when something happens. Both bite and show off their claws. Ever since their death, they have been shown to act similar to Eclipse, though on a lesser scale! It is making me so unwell, these two will be the death of me/pos-

Though as it has already been pointed out, they are changing. They haven't acted like this in a while. They have become rather self-aware and calm very suddenly, which confuses even Lunar themself! Like Earth said, this could very well be due to their last emotional outbreak ending badly! Their brain might just be shutting down, as a way to keep them safe! I am definitely interested to see, where this goes-

One more thing to point out in all this, is Lunar's question! "Why do things keep happening to us?"

I just find their opinions on the matter really Intriguing!

Earth knew from the beginning, she wasn't in control. She is only in control of herself, but never the situation. She doesn't try to be. Lunar, on the other hand, feels a lack of control, both in their situation and in general, and desperately tries to keep a hold of it! It reminds me of a orange and black animatronic- Okay, I'll stop now-

ALSO, BOTH ADMITTING TO SEEING SOLAR AS A BROTHER FROM THE VERY BEGINNING!😭 BUT ONE WAS HELD BACK BY THEIR Trauma, AND THE OTHER WAS HELD BACK BY HER FEAR OF OVERSTEPPING BOUNDARIES-

-Stardust

STARDUST IM GNAWING ON YOU SO HARD OH MY GHODDDDDDD!!!!!! /POS

THE MESSAGES. THE THEMES. RHE OPPOSITES AND THE PARALLELS. AAUGGGHHHHH I DIDNT CONNECT SO MUCH OF THIS AT ALL HOLY SHIT.

I don't have productive thoughts I am just ABSORBING THIS SO HARD. Lunar who wanted to disconnect from Eclipse but adopted traits of him anyways, versus Earth who wanted to connect with the Creator as much as possible but ended up farther from him than ever.... MAN. AUGH. I can be normal about that (lie)

ALSO YEA OMG WHEN THEY WERE TALKING ABT THEY'VE BEEN DEALING WITH THEIR WHOLE..... EVERYTHING. I WAS LIKE. 👀 hey boy. awfully familiar words there HDJEHDJWHD

AND WITH SOLAR AUAHAVQHAGHHHH SONT EVEN WITH ME ILL BURST INTO TEARS ILL START CRYING RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW AAUAGGGHHHHHHH

#asks #anon #stardust anon #IT ALL FEELS LIKE A COSMIC-LEVEL JOKE AUGH #YOU LOVED SOLAR. YOU WILL NEVER TELL HIM BECAUSE YOU ARE STILL SCARED OF ECLIPSE. #YOU ARE SCARED OF ECLIPSE. YOU WILL NEVER GET YOUR CHILDHOOD BACK AND IN YOUR ATTEMPTS TO NEVER BE LIKE HIM- #-YOU HAVE BECOME CLOSER TO HIM THAN ANYONE ELSE YOU KNOW. #YOU LOVED SOLAR. YOU WILL NEVER TELL HIM BECAUSE YOU ARE SCARED OF OVERSTEPPING. #YOU CANNOT OVERSTEP. YOU WERE MADE TO BE PERFECT AND YOU WILL RUN YOURSELF WRAGGED MAKING SURE EVERYONE IS COMFORTABLE BEFORE YOU ARE. #SOLAR LOVED YOU. #HE DID NOT GET TO TELL YOU. HE THOUGHT HE WOULD HAVE MORE TIME. #YOU ALL DID. BURSTS INTO TEARS AND STARTS PUNCHING AIR #lunar and earth show #the lunar and earth show #tlaes #sun and moon show #tsams #sams earth #sams lunar #long post

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with drunk reader

Part ll with Geto, Megumi and Gojo here

Pairing: Choso x reader; Nanami x reader

Word Count: 2,9k (Choso's part escalated)

Warnings: Nanami's part is not proofread (wanted to publish this today so badly), angst in Choso's part, fluff in every part hehe

As always, I apprechiate every little comment or repost. Thank you guys so much for your support <3

Choso Kamo

You weren’t planning on drinking that much tonight. To be honest, you were just looking for a good time, guys bought you drinks like there’s no tomorrow though. Who are you to refuse that favor?

You definitely should have, though. Because right now, you are standing with your back against a wall in a dark alley of Tokyo, whole body trembling in fear. The frame of an enormous looking man cut off every possible escape route you’ve had, every minor spark of hope you’ve had left. Fuck, how could you be so dumb, why did you take the shorter route through this abandonment district? All you have in your purse are a lipstick, a few bills, your phone and your keys. No pepper spray, no knife, absolutely nothing to defend yourself. Not that you would be able to, given that you aren’t even able to stand up straight.

“Come on cutie, don’t be shy”, he purrs, hand stretched out to touch your hair.

“Keep your fucking hands off me”, you hiss before sinking your teeth into his hand so violently that his skin bursts.

“Little bitch.”

With a swift motion of his bare palm, he sweeps you off your feet, head spinning when it hits the wet tarmac harshly. You are way too drunk to collect a single logical thought, mind racing uncontrollably as your blood discolors your sight crimson.

“I was trying to be nice, y’know? But that’s it. You’ll pay for that.”

Without hesitation, he grabs you by the throat und pulls your aching body out of the dirt, smirking at you with his missing teeth. Tears start to swell up your eyes, you simply can’t believe that it came this far. You should be home already, lying in your bed after drinking a whole bottle of water, sleeping in until afternoon. But this…This isn’t how your night should have ended.

“Help me!”, you cry out.

“Please, someone! Help me.”

“Shut the fuck up”, he interrupts you roughly, smashing your weak body against a nearby wall.

Focus. Try to have a sober thought for a minute. Your legs are free, perfect height for his crotch. If you kick him hard enough, he might let go of you. Every inch of your skin hurts like hell, bruises over bruises covering your weak frame. But you have to be strong now if you want to escape him. No, you’re not going down without a fight.

With a loud scream, you put all the power you have left into your right leg, kicking between his legs with full force. He lets go of you immediately, puny figure crumpling down on the floor. You have no time. As fast as your wobbly legs carry you, you run deeper into the dark alley. Away from that man, away from his attempt to force himself on him. Get away, fuck the alcohol and the way your whole body screams at you. Your sharp and fast breath hangs in the air, tears still rolling down your eyes. You run and run and run until-

You harshly land on the ground.

Choso didn’t plan on hearing your desperate cries for help. To be honest, he didn’t even plan on being here in the first place. But still he stops in his tracks, eyes darting towards the direction of your desperate scream. What was this? It sounded like the cry of a woman followed by punches. Curses, maybe? No, he can’t detect any curses energy around this area. Is this even important, though? He is on his way to a meeting with Geto and the others, making plans on how to take revenge for his brothers.

He grumbles to himself. Whatever it is, taking the back alley doesn’t extent his path significantly. His steps follow the constant mumbling, screaming, crying and rumbling. Fast steps come near him, a woman running his way. His brows furrow. You don’t seem to see him, the panic in your glossy eyes seems to glow in the dark as you sprint forwards, directed towards him. Before he is able to move to the side, you crash into him full force, making you fall to the ground rougly.

The second your doe eyes dart towards him, he forgets for a moment how to breathe. You must be quite beautiful for a human being, even though your face and hair are covered in blood and your whole body is bruised. Carefully, he steps towards. What is he supposed to do now? What even happened?  

“Back off”, you cry out, crawling away from him on the wet tarmac of the night.

Another pair of steps, this time louder and heavier. A man come in sight. The second he lays his eyes on your puny figure, he starts sprinting faster, directly towards you with a maniac grin plastered on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing, fool?”

He shouldn’t care the slightest. No, Choso should continue on, leaving you to your face. Why the hell is he automatically positioning himself in front of you, now facing that ugly man that seems to chase you?

“What are you doing here, freak? She’s ours, find your own little whore”, the spits at him along with a weak attempt to break Choso’s nose.

Pathetic. Who does that fucker think he is? The tiniest amount of blood is enough to pierce right through his pea brain.

All you can do is stare in awe as the stranger in front of you. Who is this man? And how was he able to handle the situation in the blink of an eye? The toothless man’s body falls to the ground lifelessly. It’s only you and him, the man with the threatening appearance who happens to be your savior in shining armor.

“What are you doing here all alone?”, he mumbles before slowly turning around and staring at you dead still.

With the last bit of strength you have left in your weak body, you lift yourself off the ground and glare at him, shivers running down your spine. Did he…kill him? How? When?

“Was on my way home from a party”, you explain briefly.

“How careless to take this path without fighting experience or weapons on your own”, his harsh voice remarks, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Thank you for saving me. He’d probably killed me if it wasn’t for you”, you mumble.

Fuck, you feel like freezing to death. Your clothes are sliced open, dirty and wet from the rain that fell a few hours ago onto the ground, head spinning from the alcohol and the way he slammed it into the tarmac with full force.

“You’re freezing.”

The stranger takes one step forward, leading you to panic all over again.

“Don’t touch me!”, you yell instinctively, body desperately trying to hide from his presence.

“Stay here, idiot. I’m trying to help you.”

Choso doesn’t really know why, but his arms wrap themselves around your trembling figure, your head resting against his chest while silent sobs escape your lips.

“I just wanna go home…”, you sniff and he can’t help but feel…

Sorrow.

You were probably enjoying your evening, not putting much thought into your way home, not expecting a men to attack you like this.

“Where are you living? This isn’t an ideal place to stay”, he mutters, unsure of how to act in a situation like that.

This is the first time he ever held a woman. Fuck, this is the first time he ever felt something like distress about a human in his whole life.

“I…I can’t…walk”, you stutter.

His gaze wanders down your entirely bruised legs. Who knows what that man did to you before he arrived. Anger rises within him, hands clenched into fists.

“I’ll carry you, then.”

With a swift motion, he wraps his arms around your back and knees, making sure not to hurt your limbs in the process.

You can only stare at him in awe. Who is this man, the man with that strange tattoo over his nose, the man who wears purple eyeshadow and a robe you haven’t seen before? Why is he helping a stranger, even carrying your drunk and injured body home? Even though something about him tells you that he’s not to be trifled with, you don’t ask him. Instead, you give him brief directions to find your apartment, eyes never breaking away from his gorgeous face. He seems young, maybe as old as you. But still, you’ve never seen him around. Is it because you’re drunk? You don’t know, but you can’t hold your tongue any longer.

“You are such a beautiful man.”

His eyes widen, staring down at you in disbelief. What are those words? No woman ever said something like this to him. How is he supposed to react? He should have let these men kill you on the spot, just leave you alone in this cold and dark alley.

But why, why do your words make his heart flutter?

“I mean, your style is pretty edgy and all, but it suits you very well. Haven’t seen you here before, though. You here often?”

“I’m never here”, he remarks dryly.

Are you really trying to start a conversation with him?

“We have to go right here. Aaaaaand there’s my place”, you announce weakly, Choso’s mind still occupied by your previous statement.

“Thank you for carrying me…”, you mutter when he lets you down gently, hands fumbling to reach your keys.

All he does is staring down at you blankly. What’s on his mind? Was all of that planned? Maybe he is like that man, maybe he just came here to know where you live…God, you are so stupid.

“You aren’t here to murder me, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding me? Do you really think I would have carried you all the way to your door just to kill you here?”, he remarks.

“Right…m’sorry, I think I’m still a little drunk y’know…”

Fuck that. Before you’re able to go into panic mode again, you wrap your arms around his body tightly. His scent is almost intoxicating, probably the best male fragrance your nose ever sniffed. And you can definitely tell that he’s a well-trained man underneath that strange clothes.

Choso can’t move an inch, all senses focused on the way you hugged him. It feels strange. Strange to be embraced by someone, strange that he helped a human being tonight. Why did he choose to follow your screams, why did it bother him so much that that other man laid his hands on you? And why does it somehow warm his heart to feel you so close against his own body?

“Thank god I ran you over tonight”, you hush against his chest.

Choso has to blink a few times.

“Good for you”, he simply replies.

But deep in his heart, he knows this isn’t only an event you will never forget. He himself will probably never get over the fact that today, he helped another human being instead of letting it get killed. But not only that.

You are breathtakingly gorgeous.

“Now go inside and find some sleep.”

With one last glance at the man who saved you only a few minutes ago, you step inside your apartment, weak body sliding down the closed door. Did this really happen? You might be drunk, but that man…

You’ll definitely never forget him.

Kento Nanami

“Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll only get yourself into trouble. Nanami-san is a higher up, you have to work with him for your entire life. It’s not wise to call him and tell him about your stupid little crush”, Ino warns you while you scroll through your phone with a dumb smirk.

“I can’t hold back any longer Ino! I’m soooo obsessed with him!”, you cry out dramatically.

One call can’t hurt, right? Nope, that sounds like a good idea. The second your eyes dart towards his name, you press the call button, Ino freaking out next to you.

“You are way too drunk for a serious talk like that. Are you out of your mind? Hang up immediately, this is a bad idea, you will-“

“Is that you (y/n)?”

“Hello Kento”, you purr into the speaker.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Nanami straightens himself in his seat, eyes lingering through the window over the city lights. Why would you call him this late at night? And why does his first name coming out of your mouth make his heartbeat pick up so suddenly?

“No, jus’ wanted to talk to you…Y’know, your voice sounds so sexy, absolutely…how do you call it? Oh, masculine”, you mumble.

Something about your usual so composed voice seems off, though. Didn’t you and Ino mention earlier that you are going out tonight?

“Are you drunk?”

“Hehe, yes”, you giggle, making Ino almost lose his mind next to you.

“Can you tell me where you are? I’m coming to pick you up.”

It’s far after midnight, too late for you to be out on your own. Is Ino with you? Hopefully he’s still there. His brows are furrowed, ears focused on every little word you say. You never called him by his first name before, let alone talked with him so openly. Over the last few months, the two of you got to work together closely. And slowly but surely, Nanami begin to fall for you. Your exceptional brain, your immense powers, the way you carry yourself with such elegance and wise words. At the moment though, you seem to miss your usual composure completely. What are you trying to tell him?

“Oh really? That’s so kind of you. Uh, Ino, you know where we at?”

Ino snatches the phone out of your hand, ice cold sweat running down his face. Fuck, hopefully this doesn’t cost him his good reputation.

“Nanami-san, I’m so so sorry-“

“Don’t be. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Of course, I’m sending you the location right now!”

“Thank you. Make sure (y/n) stays save, I’m coming to get her immediately.”

With that, he hangs up.

“He’s coming to get you, dumbass”, Ino mutters.

“How exciting!”, you speak out with glimmering eyes, heart already pounding against your ribcage by the sheer thought of seeing him tonight.

“I should meet him at the parking spot.”

“Stay where you are!”, Ino barks at you, hand holding onto the sleeve of your shirt for dear life.

In the meantime, Nanami is already on his way to get you with his head lost in thought. This is the first time you ever spoke so freely to him. And the fact that you called him this late at night while being drunk…Even though a part of him wants to be mad at you for being so reckless, to know that he was on your mind instead of everyone else makes him blush ever so slightly.

It doesn’t take long to find you. With elegant steps he approaches you and Ino, your eyes wide open. How does he look so fine this late at night with his shirt buttoned up so neat and his hand braced on his hip?

“You look absolutely del…delicious…Is that how you spell it, Ino?”

“Please stop talking (y/n)”, Ino begs, finally able to let go of you.

“Come on, let’s drive you home. Ino, do you need a ride?”

“No thank you. My apartment is a few blocks away. Have a good night. And you, drink a lot of water.”

“Gotcha!”, you remark, eyes filled with determination.

Until you have to really take a few steps outside.

“Ouff, is it just me or is the floor lave?”, you breathe out.

“Come on, I’ll help you.”

His arm wraps itself around your shoulder gently, pulling you close to his large frame. Even though your mind is clouded by alcohol, your heartbeat picks up in an instant.

“I could get used to that. Should get drunk more often.”

“Please don’t”, he replies, leading you to his expensive looking car and helping you get seated.

It doesn’t even take 5 minutes for you to pass out in his car, snoring in the most adorable way Nanami has ever heard. Finally he has the opportunity to shamelessly admire your soft features and the way your hair frames your face so delicately. You really are an attractive woman with everything he could wish for.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the perfect opportunity to ask you about your feelings towards him. After all, he can’t deny the spell you put on him.

“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out.

You don’t move an inch, not even when he allows his hand to stroke over your arm. Are you really that drunk? Nanami signs to himself, gets out of the car and opens your door – still no movement.

“I’m going to carry you inside…”, he mutters more to himself than to you, arms lifting you up with ease.

God, you are so breathtakingly gorgeous. Will he ever have the courage to tell you about his true feelings, that he wants you to be more than just a colleague? Who knows. What is way more important to him now is to take off your shoes, carry you into his bed and put a blanket on top of you, softly tucking you in while you groan in your sleep.

“Good night, (y/n). Maybe I’ll tell you someday how much you mean to me.”

“Night, Kento…”, you mumble back.  

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk funny #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk shibuya arc #choso jjk #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #chousou #kamo choso #choso my beloved #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #ino takuma #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #choso x you

[teamatsumu]

What if the Seireitei had a Human Resources Department? And what if you were in charge?

Summary: With the kind of antics these shinigami get up to every day, it was only a matter of time before the higher ups felt the need to create an HR Department to deal with the day to day messes. Here’s a little drabble about how it all started

Word Count: 2,062

Warnings: swearing, bad humor, mentions of violence

next part

Sometimes it was hard to believe that the gods didn't have it out for you. Especially when you ended up in situations like this against your will and through no fault of your own.

The corridor was completely silent despite the amount of people that it held. It’s almost like everyone knew how fucked they were, and they were praying with every fiber in their bodies that somehow, they would not get killed at the hands of the Captain Commander today.

You stared at the large “1” written on the wooden doors in front of you, hands clasped so tightly in your lap that your knuckles turned white. Your heart was beating so hard it almost hurt your ribcage. Next to you on the bench, Ikkaku shuffled, and you resisted the urge to deck him across the face. He was injured enough as it was. And frankly, no punch you could land on him would do any good. You had zero hurting power in your body.

Once again, you wondered which otherworldly spirit you had pissed off to get where you were.

Squad 4 was supposed to be a safe choice. You had asked to be put in it for a reason when you graduated. Far, far away from the fighting and pain. No conflict. Just helping people, healing injuries and staying inside where there were no battles. You would take any amount of scut work over whatever the hell those other divisions got up to. And you were good at your job. You handled medical emergencies well, you were a boss at getting through paperwork. Lieutenant Isane would cry tears of joy at the sight of you almost daily since you were singlehandedly keeping the admin side of the division afloat on your own.

So why did it have to come to this?

After what seemed like an eternity, the wooden door cracked open with a deafening sound and a head poked through it. The Shinigami’s eyes scanned the crowd outside until they fell on you. You felt your throat knot. He gestured for you to come to him before disappearing behind the door again.

You stood up on shaky legs, deliberately trying not to look at everyone around you who was now staring at you with pity in their eyes, no doubt. You unintentionally caught eyes with Captain Kuchiki, a calm slate gray that seemed to settle your nerves just a bit. He gave you an almost imperceptible nod, and some strength returned to your legs. You were grateful he was there, despite him not having any involvement in the situation.

Well, it was his Lieutenant on the line so maybe some involvement.

The Shinigami led you down a long hallway silently, your almost numb legs following behind. You felt like a baby deer with how unsteady you were. What were baby deers called again? Foals? You had no clue. Your mind was fried at this point. You tried to send a short prayer to the gods above, but then you remembered they were the ones who put you here in the first place so maybe praying to them wouldn’t be too good of an idea.

The Captain Commander certainly had an air about him. The table he sat behind in his office made him look grand. The office was almost like a balcony, overlooking a magnificent view of the Seireitei that you would have loved to admire under less precarious circumstances. You kept your eyes on the desk he was seated at, bowing low and standing straight as a rod until the Shinigami who brought you there had shut the door behind him with a click that echoed in your very soul. Then, it was silent.

Yamamoto Genryuusai was looking at you with a hard stare. You felt the horrifyingly embarrassing urge to burst into tears.

“Explain.” He said.

What came next was the worst word vomit known to mankind.

It had started two days ago, as festivities for New Years were just beginning to unravel. You had been on night duty, a post you wouldn't wish on anyone. Holidays almost always ended up with someone landing in the Squad 4 barracks with injuries. A bunch of drunk soldiers with weapons and the ability to fight felt like a disaster waiting to happen. But what happened next was ten times worse than what anyone was anticipating.

The fight was pretty standard. Some drunk Squad 3 member had thought it would be a good idea to taunt Squad 11 members by calling them brainless idiots who only knew how to swing a sword. It was a fist fight that escalated when Yumichika and Ikkaku stepped in. Somewhere in the commotion, someone had broken a bottle of sake on Yumichika’s face.

This, of course, caused a complete meltdown on Yumichika’s part, who could feel the cuts on his face that would potentially leave scars. He lost his shit and proceeded to beat the crap out of everyone around him. A very, very drunk Ikkaku and accompanying Renji thought that was the best solution in their alcohol-addled minds. The rest was history.

What had landed into Squad 4 was over 20 extremely injured Shinigami, a flurry of broken limbs and blood. The biggest issue was that this had involved a Lieutenant and two seated officers. Once Captain Unohana got wind of it, it was all over. This kind of violence wouldn't fly under the strict Captain’s nose, and she had reported the whole matter to the Captain Commander. That immediately put Captain Zaraki and Captain Kuchiki’s asses on the line since it was their officers involved, and since you had been the attending who received every case in Squad 4, you were asked to report to the Captain Commander for a full explanation on the matter the following morning.

That morning, extremely hungover Ikkaku and Yumichika had shown up at your barracks, pleading with you to save them. Apparently their Captains had been furious, and both of them were being considered for a major demotion. And Renji? Lord, Captain Kuchiki would make sure Renji never saw the light of day again.

While you made them tea to try and stave off their headaches, Yumichika had given you an honest recounting of the whole situation, and it made your heart soften. They really had just been there to break apart a fight before Yumichika’s face got involved. And as you looked at his bandaged face, knowing full well the extent of the damage underneath, (you had been the one to heal him after all) you felt your heart swell in pity.

So you had agreed to the impossible task of trying to make them appear like the victims in this situation. In front of the fucking Captain Commander. What were you thinking? Curse your empathy and curse the fact that you had somehow befriended these people.

“So according to you, Fifth seat Ayasegawa was there to break up the fight?” Captain Commander Yamamoto’s voice was grumbly and low.

You nodded. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of your face and you were breathing hard. You twisted your fingers behind your back, jaw locked so tight it made your teeth hurt.

“You realize he was singlehandedly responsible for incapacitating 11 out of the 20 injured men?”

You closed your eyes. Fucking Yumichika. That fucker.

“He only responded to an extremely hateful and violent attack on himself, sir. He was not the instigator. As the healer who received him in Squad 4 barracks, I can guarantee that his condition was horrifying.”

“So you agree with his decision to retaliate the way he did?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, sir. I do not agree with it, but in the uh, inebriated state everyone was in at the time, including the sight of his comrades injured and charged comments against his Squad, I can understand why he acted the way he did.”

The Captain Commander appraised you under a weighted stare which made you gulp heavily.

“You have an admirable track record, Sixth Seat Y/L/N.”

What? You blinked, not knowing how to respond. He knew about you. Well, of fucking course he did. He couldn't have summoned you here with no knowledge of who you were. But being referred to by him unnerved you.

“Your account for the event of New Years Eve is very diplomatic.” He continued. “If I go off on what you have told me, I am left with no one to blame this whole situation on. It seems this will just be written off as an unfortunate accident.”

You nearly bawled.

The Captain General closed the file in front of him, leaning back and placing his chin on his bony knuckles. His eyes fell shut, yet you felt he was closely watching your every move.

“You may leave. And inform everyone that they will receive a written warning for their involvement. You will receive a letter too, but of a different nature.”

You nodded and bowed instantly, turning around to walk out of the office. When the door shut behind you, you choked on a gasp and keeled forward, resting your hands on shaky knees. Fuck. Fuck. That was so intense you could cry. You would cry, actually. The tears were coming on. You sniffled.

Someone cleared their throat and your head shot up, looking at the Shinigami who had led you here. He gave you a look that told you he knew how you felt, before gesturing you to follow him out.

On numb, trembling legs, you walked out of the Squad 1 barracks, immediately being greeted by all the parties in question. Ikkaku,Yumichika and Renji crowded you, looking at you with hopeful eyes. You looked at the half bandaged and swollen faces in front of you and felt the horrifying urge to laugh.

“You all will get an official warning. No lasting consequences.” You managed to choke out.

The air that lifted at your words left behind an atmosphere so light it nearly made you collapse, you swayed a little as you sat down on the bench, watching Renji collapse in relief while Yumichika slumped into a wooden pillar. Ikkaku was looking up at the sky like he had just received redemption from the gods themselves. You held back more laughter.

Captain Zaraki let out a heavy sigh and stretched, patting you on the head with a heavy hand in his show of thanks before shuffling off, hands deep in his pockets. Captain Kuchiki sat next to you on the bench smoothly, staring at his Lieutenant with disdain.

“I must thank you.” He said, not looking at you. “I was convinced this would end poorly. You have surprised me, Sixth Seat Y/L/N. And I assume you surprised the Captain General too. I have not known him to be lenient in the years I have worked in the Gotei 13.”

You stared at the Captain as he got up once again, each move as pristine as the last. He walked over to Renji and let out a pained breath at the sight of his Lieutenant.

“Stand, Renji. You will still face the punishment I have set for you.” He stated simply before turning to walk away.

“Yes, Captain.” Renji’s voice was small and muffled. The corner of your lip twitched.

Yumichika sidled over to where you sat, tears in his one visible eye.

“I love you.” He breathed, making you snort.

“I want you to stay as far away from me as possible from now on.” You stood up, feeling better now after seeing the relief your friends felt. You were of course, being dramatic. But you were sincerely so drained you wouldn’t mind sleeping for a week.

And sleep you did. In fact, you had completely forgotten the Captain General’s words until the next morning, when a Shinigami showed up at your barracks with a letter in his hand. You stared at it in confusion until you saw the name of the addressor on the envelope. Your eyes widened and your heart fell out of your ass as you remembered the words.

“You will receive a letter too, but of a different nature.”

With trembling fingers, you tore through the paper, frantic eyes trying to make sense of what you were reading. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What the fuck is a Human Resources Department?”

A/N: Should i make this into a series? Im contemplating it. Pls let me know!

#bleach fanfiction #bleach anime #gotei 13 #bleach yumichika #yumichika ayasegawa #yumichika x reader #ikkaku madarame #ikkaku x reader #abarai renji #renji x reader #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya x reader #zaraki kenpachi #kenpachi x reader #bleach drabble #bleach imagine #platonic x reader

[slut4fictionalmen33]

Drowned In Affection (gally)

Summary: looking for a way to get into WCKD you come across a familiar face

Warnings: FLUFF, language, violence (i think that’s it)

Word count: 0.8k

You and Thomas were falling behind the rest of the group. Running away from dust clouds and gun shots from the giant cannons at the top of WCKD’s walls.

Suddenly Thomas had disappeared but before you could run off somewhere else a hand grabbed you and pulled you into the corridor.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Thomas said gesturing for you to run in front of him to eliminate risk.

You ran in front of him ducking under the clothes lines and broken down walls until you reached the end of the corridor to see your group being shoved into vans.

You were grabbed soon after Thomas by a tall man.

“No! No!” You screamed. But he just threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

He placed you down in the back of the truck and climbed in behind you. You were the only one from your group in the vehicle and the men in the masks were not making this any easier for you.

The truck stopped abruptly sending you across the truck. One of the men let out a gasp.

“Y/n you need to be careful.” You backed up against the doors. One, how did he know your name? And two what was going on.

“Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?” You backed up again until your back was touching the doors. Until the doors opened and your back made a smack noise on the ground knocking the wind out of you.

“Oh shit.” The man who said your name uttered. “I told you to be careful.” He reached for your hand. But instead you pulled away and backed up.

You were taken out of your trance when Jorge burst through the back of one of the vans jumping on one of the men punching him repeatedly in the face.

“Where the hell is she? Where is she?” He yelled.

“I’m right here. I’m right here.” Brenda stopped him.

They hugged when one of the men interrupted. “Calm down, we're all on the same side.”

“All on the same side?” Thomas scoffed. “Who the hell are you?” He questioned.

There was a pause before the man removed his mask revealing a beautiful face. Gally.

“Hey greenie.” He said simply dropping his mask when Thomas punched and tackled him to the floor similarly to how Gally did to his victims back in the maze.

“Woah Tommy stop!” Newt ran over. “He saved us.”

“He killed Chuck.” Thomas gritted out his fist still cocked in the air.

“Yeah but I also remember he was stung and half out of his mind.” Newt added.

Thomas slowly got off of him and Gally stood up leaving you and Gally standing face to face.

“Gally?” You questioned making sure he was in fact real. “Is it really you?”

“Yes sweetheart.” He opened his arms. You ran over to him jumping in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck, his caressing you lower back.

“But how?” You murmured into his neck.

Newt must’ve heard you because he had read your mind. “Yeah we watched you die.” Gally slowly let you down.

“No you left me to die.” Gally confronted Newt. “And if we hadn’t found you when we did you’d be dead too. What are you doing here anyway?” He questioned as you clung to his arm.

“Minho.” Newt stated simply. “WCKDS got him.”

“Well I can help with that.”

~

After your short talk with Lawrence you came to the conclusion that two people would get into the city with Gally which was unfortunately not you.

“Gally please be careful I can’t lose you again.” You pleaded tears threatening to fall.

“I promise. I love you so much.” He hugged you.

“I love you too baby.” You replied, allowing him to climb down the ladder leading the boys into the sewer.

After a while you started getting worried. That was until the sewer drain opened with a pop and the three that went in came back out.

When Gally stood back up you exchanged another hug and kiss before going off to a real bed for the first time in a long time.

“This is my room.” He led you to a single bed room, bed made and room tidy.

“Is this where you’ve been the whole time?” You questioned.

“Pretty much. They fixed me up and I've been here ever since. Works out.”

“I missed you.” You hugged him again.

“Trust me, me too. Don’t tell anyone but I cuddle with my pillow every night pretending it’s you.” He whispered the last part and let out a laugh.

You laughed too. “Well tonight I'm real.” You got into the bed. “And I’ve been losing sleep without you.” You smiled waiting for him to climb into the bed.

You both fell asleep in each other's arms and practically drowned each other in affection. But you were fine with drowning as long as it was with Gally.

#gally maze runner #gally #gally imagine #gally one shot #gally fluff #gally x y/n #tmr gally #gally x reader #mazerunner #will poulter

[denpa-dere]

prompt 10 for luci!!!

Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” with Lucifer

Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking

___

Okay, so, maybe you two had formed the bad habit of egging each other on. Not that he'd ever admit to letting anyone, let alone some little human, get under his skin and sway his judgment. No. He was Lucifer, first-born of the seven lords of hell and Avatar of Pride. As the prince's right hand, he had an image to uphold, always. 

But between you and the prince's foolish encouragement, he was drunk.

The evening had gotten away from the lot of you, having fun and drinking on Lord Diavolo's dime in celebration of another RAD project successfully brought to completion. As the night drew on and the crowd thinned, some of the other demon brothers with weaker constitutions trickled out of the upscale bar, heading for home. You waved off Beel (saddled with an unconscious Belphie) when he offered to walk you back to the House of Lamentation. You could handle yourself, you reassured him. 

Besides, it was rare to see Lucifer in such fine form: disheveled, face flushed, laughing raucously. He slouched over the bar, covering his face with one hand, trying to compose himself, and it was so- for lack of a better word- human that it made your heart swell. 

You excused yourself for a quick trip to the restroom, wanting to collect yourself before seeing what else the night had in store. Fairly drunk yourself, you started to psych yourself up. Yes, obviously between Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer would get home safely no matter what state he was in. But you wanted to be the one to take him home. The thought of speaking alone with a more loose-lipped, candid version of him excited you a little too much. 

You caught your reflection in the mirror and paused, dismayed. Maybe it was the harsh bathroom lighting, but you looked tired, older than your years. A cold weight settled in your stomach. You adjusted your hair and tried to shake off your sudden burst of insecurity. You were thinking too hard. 

You had been gone for just a moment, but returned to find your seat at the bar taken by a beautiful demon. Even after all this time, the natural beauty of most demons still sometimes stunned you. The demon leaned in close, speaking to a very animated Lucifer and laughing coquettishly as he described something you couldn’t quite hear. You felt the air punched out of your lungs and numbly made your way over to gather your things. 

"Hey, it's getting late, I'm going to head back," You said, throat dry but still smiling. Only Barbatos seemed to hear you. You bid him farewell and made your escape. 

You felt stupid. How arrogant were you, anyway? You may be friends, you may live under the same roof, but you were still just you. 

You heard your name called and turned, squinting in the darkness. It didn't take long for Lucifer to catch up with you. 

"Why didn't you say you were leaving? You shouldn't be walking alone this late," He scolded you. 

"I did," You replied with a thin-lipped smile, "You were busy."

He racked his brain for a moment and then chuckled, "Ah, that. I swear, I can never find a moment's peace."

“You seemed like you were having a good time,” You mused, continuing your walk home, “You should have stayed.”

You obliged, letting him turn you to face him. Maybe it was the alcohol, but tears were beginning to prick the corners of your eyes. He regarded you with an expression you couldn’t quite place- pity? That was your uncharitable interpretation, anyway.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, sounding somewhat offended, “Do you have better things to do than stand to be in my company?”

You clicked your tongue. Of course he would go there.

“No, Lucifer,” You sighed, feeling too raw to argue, “That’s not… I didn’t want to intrude if you were, you know, feeling a connection or something.”

Awkward and ineloquent. Nice. You could feel him staring into the side of your head but refused to look up. Your face burned. This wasn’t going how you had hoped. You sped up a bit, wanting to be home and done with it, already. You could sleep it off and pretend this didn’t happen, that he didn’t just see how transparently you were wounded.

Lucifer blatantly bit back a laugh and you bristled at his condescension. Whatever you thought was between the two of you had never been spoken aloud. It now laid vulnerable and dangling in front of your face, and he was laughing at you. Perhaps wishful thinking had caused you to misinterpret things. That cold weight in your stomach grew heavier.

“Is that- are you jealous?” He asked, incredulous. You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze straight ahead. His eyes widened.

“You are,” He said, reaching for your hand but catching the sleeve of your coat, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You forget yourself,” He said, a bit more sober than before, “And our pact. You are mine, does that mean nothing to you?”

Fuck, now you were crying. This pressure was too much, the dam was about to burst.

“It means everything to me,” You choked out.

He took both of your freezing hands in his, “I have been around for a very long time,” He said, as if soothing a child, “You are the only human I have ever made a pact with. The only one I have ever trusted with that sort of power-”

You huffed, “I’m not talking about pacts.”

“I know that,” Lucifer said, silently pleading you would not have him elaborate. Not here, in some cold, dingy street. Not now, too drunk to give you the confession you deserved, “But what part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”

#obey me fic #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #writing prompts #denpa's transmissions #drabble: writes 900+ words #dis one hit good because im feeling kinda insecure today ty anon :3 hope you like it

[spicyclover]

Motherhood | part four

Summary:  When did it start? In the bathroom of a hotel room in Bahrain? No, before. In the pits of a car race when you were six. « Hi, I’m Pierre. ». Would it have started there? On the first date? On the first kiss? On the first « I love you »? We were happy; we were in love. We were alone in the world. All it took was one smile to make my heart burst. All it took was one look. We were free, unconscious. And that day, he told me. « I want a child with you. ». Out of desire, out of love, out of madness, I said, « Do it to me. » Well, it really all started there.

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!

I'm open to requests.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: miscarriages, physical, verbal and mental abuse. +18 mention of smut 

If you are the victim of abuse of any kind. Please. Seek help. Your safety and your life are important. A person who hurts you mentally, physically or verbally is not a good person. Call a friend, a family member or the special number of your country to get HELP.

Disclaimer: All references to aggression and violence are fictitious. This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts.

You take your wrist between your fingers and slowly massage it as you turn around to continue on your way. You did it. You have told him all the pain and sorrow he has inflicted on you. A sense of pride fills you. 

You take a step when all of a sudden.

"Wait!" He shouts and forces you to walk away from the crowd.

All the trust you’ve built evaporates in seconds, and you follow him despite yourself. Tears of fear appear in your eyes, and you feel your breath leave your body as you see yourself being dragged away. You walk away from others, cameras, security, and hospitalities… what will he do to you?

You’re trying to free yourself again, but a fury emanates from him and for the first time in weeks, you’re scared. You fear for your life. You fear him. His face is closed, and his grip marks you with his imprint.

"Let go of me. You're hurting me." You whisper while choking on your own sob. His body tense up, and he finally stops you. He kicks you up hard, and you hit your head against the wall of the building.

You, again, choke a moan of pain and lean against the wall to support yourself. Your head turns, and your vision blurs. He really pushed you hard. You eventually lost your balance and fell to your knees before him.

"You have no right to humiliate me in front of everyone. Do you hear me?" He exclaims, grasping your neck to force you to look at him. "You are nothing, a vermin, a whore. You’re a fucking whore. On all fours on the bed, that’s all you deserve in life."

You fear him. You tremble like a leaf waiting for the next event. You wait for the punches, you wait for the penetration, you wait for the marks. You feel his hand choking more around your neck, and a new wave of panic invades you. You grab his arm, trying to get out, but he pulls you up effortlessly and pushes you hard into the wall. You can’t even get a sound out of your mouth because it’s so tight for your vocal cords. The lack of air is felt, and you wiggle. You try to hit him, but you gradually lose your strength. Yet your eyes do not leave his. In a sign of rebellion, in a sign of strength, you do not leave him with your eyes. You let him see your pain and suffering.

"Let... Let me... Let me go." You can hardly articulate.

"Or what?"

Your eyes sweep the horizon behind him, and miraculously you see red clothes approaching your position. A wave of hope takes hold of you, and you gather your strength. This may be the only chance you have. You scratch his face hard, so he drops his grip on your neck. You gasp for air, stumbling away towards the men in red. You try to shout, but you are no longer able to speak. You feel Pierre in your back getting close again quickly, and you grab a stone and throw it with all your strength you have left against the metal bin next to you. Heads turn to noise, and you recognize Carlos.

"Y/n? Carlos shouts, coming toward you. He sees your distress, and his face turns red at the sight of Pierre. "What did you do, cabrón?" Carlos' fists close, knowing what Pierre has done to you very well.

Carlos' assistant approaches you and takes you away while the two men talk. You take your head against your hands and feel a lousy liquid coming out of your head. You bleed. He hit you hard enough to crack your skull. Your breathing accelerates when you see the blood, and you gasp for air. Your body no longer controls itself, and the pressure releases. You are in a panic attack. You can no longer speak or express yourself adequately. Your lungs are burning, and you only want to scream with all your might so that this nightmare will finally give way. You want to be with Charles. You need to be with him. You need to be with him.

"It’s okay, Carlos, we were just talking. Mind your own business, my friend."

"Well, this is my business. And to me, my friend, it didn't seem like she wanted to talk." Carlos' voice is cold and unprecedented.

"You know girls like her..."

It’s too much for Carlos throwing his fist at Pierre’s face. Pierre rocks and finds himself on the ground before running away towards his hospitality.

"You’re all really sick. She’s just a whore!" Pierre screams, running away.

He runs away, leaving you with Carlos and his team. Oddly, you feel less alone seeing Carlos around you. You try to regain a normal heart rhythm, but the air seems to be stuck in your throat. You hold your head in your hands, and blood flows. It hurts. It hurts. Why does he have to be so mean? Tears run down your cheeks, and you feel Carlos' warm hands fondling your back

"It's okay. He's gone. You're okay." He repeats multiple times, more to convince himself than you. "We need to get out of here. Can you walk?"

You nod your head, and he sighs. He really hurt you. He puts your arms around his neck, and he puts one hand behind your back and under your knees before getting up. His team forms a wall around you, and you advance to the hospitality of Ferrari a few meters longer. The world passes by you without you paying attention which greatly reassures Carlos. Andrea sees you in the distance and runs towards you.

"Cos'è successo? Perché sei così? Chi ti ha fatto del male? Giuro, se lo trovo…" Says Andrea, quickly looking around to see your attacker. What happened? Why are you like this? Who hurt you? I swear if I find him…

Carlos shuts him down with a look, and you enter Ferrari’s quarters. Carlos' assistant runs to look for a doctor while Andrea runs to the interview area to warn Charles. Carlos lies you in Charles' room on the little massage boards. Your head drums, and you have trouble keeping your eyes open. Your throat hurts, your lower belly hurts, your knees hurt. You whine in pain, and you faint.

Meanwhile, Charles speaks with reporters about his Pole Position and the results so far from Ferrari. It is completely to the west of what has just happened. He finishes his interview and begins to move towards hospitality when Andreas wringing towards him.

"Charles! Devi… devi… devi… devi venire." He articulates difficulties. Still in shock at what he saw. Charles! Must… Must… Must you… Must come.

"Eh? Che sta succedendo?" Huh? What’s going on?

"Y/n."

Just to the agreement of your first name, he rushes towards where his trainer tells him. He runs. He runs at full breath to the hospitality. Fred tries to speak to him, but Charles ignores him by sending his hand waltzing.

"What happened? He kneels directly beside you. Screaming at Carlos.

A paramedic is already in the room examining you. He’s talking on the phone with the ER while his colleagues come home with a stretcher to pick you up. Charles tries to understand the situation. How you got there. Everything is confused, and he does not understand. The paramedics take you to the ambulance. He refuses to let Charles go with you, and he begs them to tell them where he’s taking you. The siren starts, and it moves away in the night. The Paddock is empty, and fortunately, because he has no desire for a group of curious come to see him or post about it. He turns to Carlos, who has the stitches.

Carlos hesitates a few seconds before saying.

"Pierre."

The simple agreement of that name makes her turn blood. What did he do to put her in that state? He ends up changing and hurries to the hospital that he was told. Joris and Andrea are with him in the car and a silence of lead reigne. Charles' hands are white to tighten the wheel. He did not find Pierre, but he only wants to kill him.

"Si je le trouve... Je lui défonce sa gueule." He’s mumbling for the umpteenth time. If I find him… I’ll kill this asshole.

The parking lot of the hospital is almost empty. He leaves his keys to Joris before running to the door to enter the emergency room. The minutes are long, and he only wants to be by your side. The receptionist tells him your room number, and he hurries to go.

The room is in the dark, but the doctor explains that you are fine. You will have to take the weeks in total calm. The concussion has healed, and your vocal cords are slowly starting to return to your normal size. He sits next to you and watches you sleep. You have a black eye and bruises on your body. For he cannot help but find you beautiful. Despite all this shit, you are beautiful, kind and joyful. He doesn’t know how you can be a force of nature like that. Charles lies beside you. He takes you in his arms, being careful not to hurt you. In your sleep, you seek his contact. His nose in your hair, he escapes to the world of dreams.

You wake up at 10 am. Charles isn’t by your side, but Joris is asleep in the chair in a corner of your room. You look around while the memories of the day before slowly come back to you.

"Joris?" You ask confused.

Joris jumps when he hears your voice and approaches you. You spend the rest of the day in examination before the doctors allow you to leave. You go back to the hotel with him. You are still weak, but he supports you in every step you take.

"I don’t understand why he’s picking on me. What did I do to him?" It is not really a question for him, but rather, an unanswered question.

"I don't know." He says he’s upset. "But nothing will happen to you. I swear to you. I will not leave you any more than a foothold from now on."

"That's sweet." You mumble, looking out the window of your hotel room. "I don't think I'll come back."

"What?"

"I... I don't want to live in the fear that he'll find me whenever I am in the paddock." You sit a the edge of the bed. "It's better if I leave before anything worse happens. I don't want Charles to be in trouble because of me or anyone." You cough several times, knowing well that you must spare your voice. "I'll talk to him about it later."

You sent Joris back to the race. Asking him not to say anything to Charles tends to make you not talk to him. He nods against his heart before taking his jacket and going out. You settle in comfortably after taking a shower and putting cream on your bruises and wounds. You have a hard time grasping the phone to order room service. You lose your voice more and more. You order a honey tea with Benedictine eggs. Enough to fill your stomach until tonight you find Charles.

The hours pass, and Charles wakes you up when he enters the room after finishing the race. You jump when you hear the door slam, and Charles immediately regrets not having paid attention to this door. He apologizes for the look before coming to you and kissing you tenderly.

"I'm terribly sorry... I forgot the door was loud." He says by putting his head in your neck. He smells your smell, and it reassures him. "Did you eat something?"

"This... this morning." You hardly answer.

Charles notices your lack of voice and informs you to refrain from speaking for the moment. You try to retaliate, but he is right. You have to rest to the max. You write to him to tell you about his day. He talks about the race while storing his belongings in his suitcase. He walks back and forth, telling every detail of the race and getting third place on the podium. You tap the bed to get his attention, and he approaches you. You kiss him proudly for the bliss of that third place.

"We are not doing this right now." He smirks, knowing very well what you do to him. You pouted a bit, but once again, his right. You're in no shape to have sex. "Will have it when you're fully recovered and fully vocal." You giggle at his last words. Charles loves hearing you moan loud.

You kiss his lips again before showing him the menu to order food.

The next day, you returned to Monaco. You found your marks in his apartment, which became yours. Charles is off to the next circuit, and you won’t see him for the next few weeks. The races are close, and he doesn’t have much time left for you. You’re glad he’s not offering to come. After everything that’s happened. You don’t want to go back. You haven’t had time to talk to him about your decision yet, but know that you like to think he already knows.

The last race comes fast, and you are excited that the winter holidays start for him. The fight between him and Max is tight. They exchange points like shirts. The pressure is on. The last race is decisive.

Sitting in front of the TV, you’re with Charles' mother. She didn’t want to sit at that Grand Prix so she could stay close to you; frankly, you were grateful. She’s been a big help to you the last few weeks. Especially at the beginning, she came to see you every day to help you in your daily life and in the various tasks that you have to do. You fully regained your voice a few weeks later, and it felt good to be able to express yourself normally again.

The race has started, and the tension is at its peak. The cars are pushing each other. Different strategies are at stake. Charles is back at the booth. He changes his tires. Optimal stop; he leaves as fast as he arrives. Verstappen is a few seconds ahead of him. He uses his mediums to the maximum. Charles quickly gains time on him. Max returns to the booth. Charles passes first. Optimal stop for number one. He quickly catches up with Charles. The last laps arrive. Pressure rises. You are no longer able to look at the screen. All you want is for the finish line to appear and for it to end. The last round begins. The speeds are at their top rates. They’re touching. The finish line is a few metres away. The car goes by.

To be continued...

Tag list : ricciardosheart ru-kru gaslysainz champomiel jessicaloons tyna-19 thesonnie6

#charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut

[george-weasleys-girl]

Act Like You Mean It

Start here:

Chapter 5

Summary: Y/N takes a late night walk and runs into someone unexpected

Warnings: description of sexual assault, cursing

George Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

The moon was high in the sky when Y/N finally gave up on sleep and went to sit by the window. There was once a time when she would've tiptoed downstairs and knocked on George's door.

"Can't sleep, love?" He'd ask.

"No," she'd tell him.

Then they would spend the next few hours talking by the fire or, if they were feeling adventurous, sneak down to the kitchen for a late night snack.

The memory punched her square in the chest, and her tears threatened to spill over for the millionth time in two weeks.

Godric, I'm so sick of crying. Why can't I just get over this? Over him?

The temptation to take Montcroix up on his offer was growing by the moment. Maybe that would help her get past everything. Or at least he'd be annoying enough to distract her for a while.

No. No, I'm being stupid. Even if it did help, the cure would be worse than the cause.

And yet, just imagining George's face as she passed him in the hall, hand in hand with Byron, gave her a certain vengeful satisfaction. George had hurt her. Deeply and irrevocably. She was not some plaything for him to use and then just toss to the wayside like a piece of garbage.

As much as she hated to admit it, the petty, childish part of her wanted nothing more than to get back at him.

Assuming he even cared...

He'd barely even glanced at her since the night he came looking for her after dinner.

Y/N sighed and wiped away the tears wetting her face, then stood and began getting dressed, grabbing her cloak on the way out. The temperature was near freezing, but she didn't care. She just needed to get out of this sweltering dorm room. Breathe the fresh air for a while and try to clear her head.

Maybe, if I'm really lucky, the frigid air will freeze my heart. Then I won't have to feel anything ever again.

~•~

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold trickled down Y/N's spine. She'd never ventured out alone at night. And now she understood why. Every creak, every shadow, every howl of the wind manifested itself in her mind as the spindly, twisted horrors that haunted her darkest nightmares.

So much for a relaxing, midnight stroll.

There were other ways to clear her head, she surmised, and turned back toward Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the imaginary footsteps behind her.

~•~

Y/N screamed at the hand landing on her shoulder and whirled around, her wand at the ready.

"Woah, woah," Montcroix's voice echoed off the stone walls.

"Damn it, Byron!" she rolled her eyes, lowering her wand. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He snickered. "Sorry 'bout that."

"I'm sure you are," she muttered and turned to go.

Montcroix strutted along beside her. "What are you doing wandering the halls all alone in the middle of the night?"

"Changing the configuration settings for NASA's satellites. Same old same old, you know how it is," she answered with a nonchalant air.

"What?" Montcroix stared at her.

Y/N almost burst out laughing at the look on his face. Being a pure-blood, Byron would never lower himself to learn about something so phlebian as muggle space exploration.

"Nevermind," she said. "What are you doing skulking around in the middle of the night?"

Byron shrugged. "A little birdie told me I might find someone interesting."

Now it was Y/N's turn to stare. It wasn't just what he said, but something about the way he said it that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing," he winked.

Y/N swallowed hard and picked up her pace. The spindly, twisted nightmares now seemed downright cuddly in comparison to the hungry look in Montcroix's eyes.

"What's your hurry? Byron taunted.

Y/N said nothing and continued on, wondering if she could outrun him.

It was if he'd read her mind.

The next few seconds were a blur as he grabbed her, pinning her against the wall, one hand holding her wrists behind her back, and the other clamped across her mouth. She struggled against him, trying to wrench herself free, but any attempts to escape only resulted in his grip tightening around her wrists until she could no longer feel her hands.

"Aw, you're so cute when you try to fight back," Byron smirked. "Too bad your guard doggie isn't here to protect you. Word on the street is that he left you high and dry," he laughed. "So, maybe it's time for you to experience what a real man can do... "

Never in her life had Y/N been so thankful for Montcroix's arrogant preening. It gave her time to think about her options. Biting into his hand was one possibility. It'd certainly be easy, but it wouldn't stop him. No, she needed something more crippling, something that would incapacitate him long enough for her to get away.

"...now I'm going to remove my hand," he continued, bringing her full attention back to him. "And you're going to give me a kiss."

Y/N went completely still, letting her body go slack. Then she gave him a slow, deliberate nod.

"That's a good girl," he chuckled, letting his hand slide away. "Now, what does a good girl say?"

"Fuck you!" Y/N spat and hoped her aim was true.

~•~

Byron's eyes widened, his cocky malevolence melting into shock and agony as her knee slammed into his groin. He staggered backward, clutching himself. "You stupid, fucking bitch! You're going to pay for that," he groaned, looking around for her. But he was out of luck. Y/N had already vanished into the darkness.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @phant0mkitsune @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @igncrantbliss @mchlist @adangerousbalance @thankyouforanonymity @mizu-soup @drama-queen-fromthevault @patriciamatezz @futureweasleywife @xluansstuff

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley angst #hp fandom #hp universe

[thistuesdaynight]

Someone to Care

Jegulily minific

Autistic James has a shutdown and is comforted by his boyfriend and girlfriend.

tw: self injurious thoughts, autistic shutdown, dissociation

The Gryffindor common room was packed. It was filled to the brim with sweaty, excited bodies, languid with liquor, and alight with victory. The Quidditch team had won their fifth game in a row this season, and everyone had thought it the perfect occasion for celebration.

Normally, James would agree with them, but right now, he was drowning.

James took in a deep lungful of air, trying to calm himself, but he regretted it immediately. The air was stale and sour with sweat and breath. It seemed that everyone in the bloody school had come to celebrate with them, save for the Ravenclaw team who'd lost that day. James could feel the swirling tendrils of energy building in his chest, clawing at his insides and begging to escape.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to run, and throw things, and smash everything in sight. He wanted to destroy and ruin. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to hit himself. God, he wanted to hit himself. Just a little punch to his head or his thigh. Maybe bang his head against the wall while he was at it.

Anything to stop feeling like this.

He was ready to crawl out of his skin because the music at this party was too loud, and everyone kept talking to him. How 'bout that win, Potter? And Great game! And Where'd you learn that trick you did in the last quarter? He had to smile and nod and engage in conversation all the while pretending that the flashing lights weren't hurting his eyes, and the music wasn't pulverizing his brain, and the unbearable heat of the common room wasn't suffocating him.

But he couldn't react. People didn't like it. They didn't like it when he complained or cried. They would just call him an attention seeking prat like always.

"Alright, James?" Frank frowned at him, looking at him strangely.

They were mid-conversation and James couldn't keep still. The intense energy in his body continued to grow, and James just nodded his head, trying his best to look like he was still listening to whatever Frank was saying.

But James' breathing was going wonky, and he could feel his hands starting to shake, so he shoved them in his pockets. He wanted to sink to the floor and sob. He wanted to shout for everyone to shut up for one bloody second.

But he was the optimist, the ray of sunshine. People depended on him to look at the glass half full. James had to be okay because he was always supposed to be okay. Right?

The awful pressure increased to a level that James feared he wouldn't be able to contain. The buzzing energy climbed up his chest and into his throat, tearing him apart. Just when he was positive he would burst, a dizzying fog washed over his brain, making his entire body go weak.

He needed to sit down. He needed to sit down right now, or he would collapse. James felt distant remorse for leaving a confused and annoyed Frank behind mid-conversation, but he was too weak and too far away in his brain to fully care.

James collapsed into an armchair, staring unseeingly down at the floor, feeling like he would never move again for the rest of his life. His body was leaden, an anchor at the bottom of the ocean.

People kept walking past, patting his shoulder and asking if he was okay, but he could only shake a half-hearted thumbs up in their direction. He wanted to tell everyone that no, he was not okay. He felt like he was drowning, dying, trapped in his mind, subjected to the continued torture of the heat and the lights and the noise.

But he couldn't speak. Just the thought of producing words was exhausting. He wanted to tell everyone to just stop talking to him and leave him alone, because their voices hurt. Why did everyone have to speak so loudly? But when he tried to talk, pain wrapped around his heart and squeezed, as if he would die if he uttered a single word, so he gave up on that altogether.

Soon, people assumed he was being an attention seeking prat yet again and left him be. They muttered under their breath about how dramatic James was. But how could he be looking for attention when all he wanted was to be alone?

He didn't know how long he sat there wishing for this nightmare to end, when he felt two cold hands gripping tightly to his wrists. The touch was immediately calming because it was firm with decisive pressure, and cool enough to take away the edge of his feverish skin.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" A soft voice intoned. "Lily's gone to make sure the room is ready for you."

Regulus.

Regulus was here, and he was going to be okay.

James wanted to sink into Regulus' arms and his grounding touch, but he still couldn't move. So, he simply hoped the boy knew how grateful he was. Regulus muttered something under his breath, and an invisible barrier descended around them. A personal silencing charm just around James' armchair.

James felt such relief at the quiet, that a tear escaped from his eye and rolled down his cheek.

"I know, mon soleil," Regulus tutted. His boyfriend wiped his tear away with a firm hand and pressed his palm against James' face. If James could have leaned into the touch, he would have.

James heard rather than saw Lily join them. The task of processing his surroundings was too great, so he couldn't look up at her, unable to move his gaze from the spot on the floor.

"Everything's ready, Jamie," Lily murmured, careful not to disturb the silence. His boyfriend and his girlfriend always knew what to do when he got like this.

"Can you stand?"

James gave a jerky nod. Regulus and Lily supported either side of him and helped him shuffle towards the stairs. He must have looked in a right state, having to be pulled along like that. The world was still too far away for him to notice, but he heard his two partners dismissing everyone's concerns.

With their help, James stumbled up the stairs to his dorm. Sirius, Peter, and Remus were still partying, so it was quiet, especially with Lily's silencing charm keeping out the raucous noises of the party.

Lily had dimmed the lights, casting the room in a gentle glow. The tension in his shoulders unraveled slightly. Lily had set up silencing charms round his bed too, so he wouldn't have to hear his mates stumbling in later that night. She'd also put up his favorite galaxy charm above his bed. She knew it calmed him to watch the swirling stars.

Regulus laid down first on the bed, dragging James into the cradle of his arms and legs. Then, Lily laid directly on top of him, Regulus wrapping his arms around them both and squeezing tight. James instantly relaxed, feeling buoyed and supported by the steady pressure of them.

They laid there for some time, allowing James' mind to quiet and the clawing energy in his body to settle. Lily ran her fingers through Regulus' hair, while pressing firm kisses to James' collarbone, while Regulus held tightly to both of them, fingers stroking Lily's side.

Finally, James began to come out of it. He still couldn't speak, but he could move easier and at least make noises. And the first noise out of his mouth was a sob.

Lily and Regulus sat up, knowing that James could handle a gentler touch now. They ran soothing hands over him, brushing his hair back from his face and stroking his tear streaked cheeks.

"Baby, it's okay," Lily murmured, wiping his tears away. "We've got you. Let it out."

And James cried harder, glad to have the permission to let go. Regulus dragged his nails up and down James' back, whispering soothing words in French. Even though James didn't understand, Regulus knew that he liked hearing him speak French anyway. Lily peppered kisses over his face and ran her hands through his hair, and he knew he was safe.

But James still had an urge to hit. He could hit himself. Just a little. Just to make himself feel better. He raised his hand to smack the side of his head, but Lily and Regulus pushed his hand away.

"No, mon soleil. Not that."

"We don't want you hurting yourself, Jamie."

He cried in protest, but they guided him to punch the mattress, which he did until he felt better. James punched the bed and cried, loud and ugly, all the discomfort he'd felt for the past few hours bubbling to the surface.

Slowly, he calmed, sobs subsiding into little whimpers, and his partners held him through it. After, he felt exhausted and boneless, all the energy and stress zapped from him. Lily and Regulus laid him back onto the pillows, snuggling close.

James tucked his nose into Lily's throat, breathing in the scent of her, and Regulus curled around his back. He blinked up at the galaxy swirling above them, feeling safe and supported by the two people he loved.

He couldn't speak now, but in the morning, James would thank them. He would tell Regulus and Lily how much he loved them and how much he appreciated them for helping him through this. He knew they would wave away his gratitude, but James felt it overtake his heart. He knew how lucky he was to have people to take care of him. He sighed, and his eyes fluttered, growing closer to sleep.

He loved Regulus and Lily. And he was so grateful to have them.

#autistic james potter #james potter #regulus black #lily evans #jegulily #jegulily fluff #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fluff #hurt/comfort #autistic shutdown #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #autistic regulus black #jegulus #tuesdaywrites

[yanderecrazysie]

Distracted Part 2

Requested on Quotev

Title: Distracted Part 2

Pairings: Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: Nishinoya is done being ignored.

Part 1: here

distracted

/adjective/

unable to concentrate because one's mind is preoccupied:

The world was silent. You weren’t used to that.

For years, you’d always had at least on earbud in at all times. Need to wash yourself? Take a bath and watch some anime. Sleeping time? Put on some music and drift off to dreamland.

To be without your headphones was… debilitating. Like one of your senses had been ripped away. A part of you, gone.

Maybe it was a bit strange to be so dependent on an object, but you couldn’t help but miss it. It would be a great comfort right now, considering the situation you’d found yourself in.

You shifted uncomfortably in the chair, the ropes chafing your skin as you did so. You’d been tied so tightly that you couldn’t move an inch.

You flinched as the door to the room you were kept in opened up and a boy came inside. Your face twisted in confusion as you tried to place his face. He looked familiar, but you were never good at identifying people.

“Who are you? What do you want?” You demanded, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you held them back.

The boy jerked back, looking hurt. He seemed to wilt, head hanging low as he realized you didn’t recognize him. Even after he’d put so much effort into trying to get to know you. To get you to notice him back.

“I’m Nishinoya Yuu. I was your classmate.”

“Was”. That word was a real punch to the gut. It inferred that you no longer were considered a classmate. It meant that you weren’t going back to school anytime soon. If ever.

“Nishinoya,” you started, cringing at the way he seemed to relish the way you said his name, grinning widely back at you, “Please let me go, I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. I’m scared- please!”

Nishinoya didn’t look particularly concerned, still smiling broadly at you, “It will all be okay, sweetie!”

You didn’t believe him. Your breaths came in sharp bursts and you were forced to try even harder to hold back your tears. A panic attack was on the horizon.

Suddenly, you became a writhing mess, tearing your wrists’ skin as your tried to rip your hands free and twisting your ankle as you simultaneously worked on your legs. You flailed around so much that your chair fell backwards and, when it hit the ground, the air was knocked out of you.

“Wait! Calm down, (Y/n), calm down!” Nishinoya was lifting your chair up a moment later, trying desperately to soothe your panicking form. 

“No,” you blubbered, the tears finally escaping, “Just let me go! I wanna go home…”

Nishinoya wrapped you in a hug the best he could as you sobbed into his chest. It was strangely comforting, even if the person you were crying into was the person who brought you to tears in the first place.

You felt the pressure on your wrists disappear and were relieved to see that he had released your hands from their rope prison. To your disappointment, he left your ankles tied. It was better than nothing, at least.

“I know what will cheer you up!” Nishinoya gasped excitedly, as he pulled out two white objects from his pocket.

Upon closer inspection, you realized they were wireless earbuds. Fear crawled up your spine as you wondered how he knew you well enough to guess what specific thing could help your relax.

The boy leaned in and popped an earbud in each ear. Soft music played in your ears and your eyes widened when you heard it. One of your favorites…

Nishinoya gave a little wave as he left the room. You knew it was only temporary- that, in reality, these earbuds did nothing to protect you from potential harm your kidnapper could bring to you.

But it was a distraction.

And you welcomed it.

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #haikyuu!! #yandere nishinoya #nishinoya yu

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

For the angst prompt…

14 with Raph

17 with Donnie

(or feel free to switch those around 😘)

Here you go bestie!! Surprise time hehe.

“NO! No! Raph! I’m so sorry!” Donnie screams as Raph writhes on the ground.

He’s never seen his brother react this way to an injury before. Pretty much all of them recover right away from even the most serious injuries, but Raph especially rolls with the punches.

Something is terribly wrong.

When Raph starts holding his throat and gasping for air, Donnie panics further. He’s messed up so badly this time. They’re all alone in the lair, Mikey and Leo were out for some special bonding with Splinter.

He and Raph were supposed to be bonding more too. His oldest brother always supports the inventions he makes even if he doesn’t understand them most of the time. He didn’t even hesitate to agree in testing out his new invention.

It failed so badly.

He just wanted another launching tool for his tech bō, it wasn’t supposed to have a hair trigger. It wasn’t supposed to result in a dumb, stupid accident. It wasn’t supposed to hit him in the throat like this!

Oh god.

His throat.

Did he crush his windpipe!?

He can’t breathe!

What should he do!? He can’t just call an ambulance! Maybe the Hidden City has a doctor!? Does he have enough time to get him there!? He can call Leo to portal them there! That’s it! He-!

Did the gasping stop?

His eyes glance back down and sees that Raph has started going still. Green skin is turning blue. They’re out of time for him to get help.

But there’s still time for him to do something.

He uses a robo appendage to grab a box cutter. Leo has told him before during one of his medical filled rants about tracheotomies. How specific they need to be.

Donnie hates blood so much. He couldn’t even pull his own tooth. It was just too gross. So much more is at stake here now than just a tooth.

Raph is going to die if he can’t do this.

“This is going to hurt, I-I’m sorry.” Donnie attempts to bring the sharp object to his brother’s throat.

It’s so difficult. As much as he knocks into or tosses things at his brothers, he doesn’t want to actually hurt them, at least not badly. It always turned out okay!

Tears start clouding his vision.

He can’t do it like this! Any wrong move and Raph is-!

Why is he so useless when it matters most!?

You’re killing your brother!

Raph suddenly takes in a big breath and starts breathing normally. Donnie drops the box cutter and quickly helps him sit up. Raph coughs and sputters blood before he’s able to talk again.

“Ugh….that hurt, you gotta be more careful, Dee. Next time maybe don’t shoot it so close?”

What?

That’s his reaction?

He almost…..

Donnie almost…..

Donnie bursts into absolute tears and starts hitting Raph’s arm.

“You don’t get to react that way after what I did! Yell at me! Tell me you never want to be around my inventions again! Y-You got hurt because of me and I almost cut your throat open in a misguided attempt to help you! Idiot! Dumb dumb!”

Raph hugs him tightly.

“Sorry, sorry! Raph’s terrified! I just didn’t want you to cry more! I-I’m fine, Donnie. Big brothers always bounce back.”

“You are not invincible! What am I supposed to do if you…?” Donnie sobs.

Raph just keeps hugging him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. This was an accident. You’re not going to lose me anytime soon.”

Donnie sniffles.

“You’re going to the yokai hospital anyways.”

“They have those?”

“We’re going to find out.”

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise fanfiction #tw blood #tw injury #tw sharp objects #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt fanfiction #rise raph #rise donnie

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 4/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma

Chapter Four: Tag! You're It!

Bruce woke up to a punch in the nose and Jason screaming. "Where am I?" Jason asked. He was slightly taller, and his eyes were dark.

Bruce jumped out of bed, his eyes watering involuntarily at the force of the blow. "Jason-."

"Where am I?" Jason screamed.

He was older. Bruce could see a difference. Dick ran into the room, and Jason backed away from them, snatching the closest thing to him to use as a weapon. "Jason, you're not in any danger," Dick explained.

Jason burst into tears. "How did I get here? I was home with my dad," Jason cried, "I want my dad. He's gonna-. How did I get here? How do you know my name?" Jason ran a hand through his hair. "I was at home with my dad, and we played-. We were playing a game." Jason gasped for air. "And then I woke up next to him! And who are you?"

Bruce held his shirt up to his nose as it bled, and Dick held up his hands. "Jason, I need you to put the picture frame down and breathe... Tell me what you were playing with your dad," Dick replied to get Jason to refocus.

Jason wouldn't put the picture frame down but took a deep breath. "My name is Jason Todd. I was playing the lock game with my dad," Jason answered, "I want my dad. I don't wanna get in anybody's car... I want my dad to come and get me. Just let me call him. I wanna call him. I promise I won't call the police or nothin'. I only want my dad." Jason started getting agitated again, and Dick kept his hands up.

"Jason, what's the lock game? Let's go downstairs and use the phone while you talk to me. No one's trying to hurt you here," Dick reassured him.

"That's a lie! My dad says everybody hurts people! You get hurt by people, and you hurt people, then you die... That's what my dad says," Jason replied.

Dick glanced at Bruce, and Jason threw the picture frame at Dick and rushed past him out of the room and down the stairs. "We've gotta go get him," Bruce whispered.

"We know where he's going, and we can beat him there if we drive," Dick replied before chuckling. "Oh, he got you good. How old do you think he is now?"

"Shut up and get in the car," Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed Dick downstairs.

"He's older, though, isn't he?" Dick asked. Bruce nodded.

Dick and Bruce got in one of the cars in the garage and drove to Jason's apartment, where they waited for him to arrive. They sat in the kitchen out of the direct line of sight of the front door. Jason crept in nearly two hours later in pajamas. They were half a size too small. He was barefoot and drenched in sweat. "Dad? Dad, I'm home," Jason called before looking around and spotting Bruce and Dick. "What do you want with me?" Jason backed away toward the door.

"Jason, how old are you?" Dick asked.

"I'll be eight in August. And if you come near me, I'll scream. I swear I will," Jason replied, "And why is everything different? Where's the phone? Where's Mommy's CDs?" Jason started hyperventilating.

"Jason, relax. This can all be explained... But you're not gonna like this explanation. We've known you since you were twelve years old," Bruce whispered.

"I'm seven, you psychopath!" Jason yelled.

"Of course, you're seven now, but a few days ago, you were twenty-four years old and just as angry as you are now," Bruce explained, raising his voice.

"I'm not angry! I'm scared! If I was angry, I would've gone for your eyes! Now get out before my dad gets here and makes you both sorry you ever followed-."

"Jason, your father isn't coming. He's gone," Bruce snapped. Jason looked around the apartment, and he sank to the ground. He sobbed into his hands.

Somehow he knew Bruce was telling the truth. The room stayed silent until Jason could collect himself. "Is my mommy-? Is she okay?" Jason asked.

Bruce frowned and shook his head. Jason clutched his stomach. "Nooooo," Jason moaned as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Dick came close and offered Jason a hand, and Jason swatted it away. "No, no, no. I can't-. She said she was getting better." Jason stood up and stumbled to the kitchen sink, where he threw up. Bruce could see the difference in Jason's grief. In only two years, Jason's whole demeanor changed. It was like Bruce was looking at a completely different child. Bruce crouched down, still covered in blood from his nose.

"Please come back with us... You can get cleaned up and rest. Jason, I'm sorry. We only wanted to help," Bruce whispered.

Jason wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Bruce. "Mommy's been away at the hospital, and Dad-. Dad's been great. He got a job, and it's been him and me for a few weeks. Dad was gonna-. He promised to take me to the park," Jason mumbled. Dick opened his arms, and Jason stumbled forward into Dick's embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Jason," Dick whispered.

Jason clutched Dick's shirt. "Dad was doing better... Mommy was gonna come home soon," Jason mumbled. Dick met eyes with Bruce.

"Bruce swore he'd do whatever he could to help you," Dick whispered, "He's a good man. He raised me... And he wants to raise you too... If you'll allow it."

"Why would he want me? I'm nobody," Jason whispered as he looked up at Dick.

"Not to me... Jason, you have no idea how important you are," Bruce replied. Dick let go of Jason and let Bruce hug him.

Jason hugged back. "I'm sorry I punched you in the face," Jason apologized.

"I'm just thankful you didn't break my nose. You've got one heck of a jab," Bruce smiled. It reminded him of the first time they met. Still, he couldn't figure out why Jason managed to age two years overnight. And Bruce couldn't get that comment out of his mind. Bruce thought he knew Jason, but he didn't know him. Not one bit. He couldn't even tell the difference between fear and anger for Jason... He would've gone for his eyes... Was that what Jason was that whole time? Scared? Was he pulling his punches, hoping for a better outcome someday? Was he asking for a change in Bruce? What was Jason so afraid of?

They'd have so many things to talk about whenever Jason grew up. Suddenly, he couldn't wait for Jason to get older again.

#batfam #fic #jason todd #bruce wayne #five little ducks fic #de-aged jason todd #catherine todd mention #willis todd mention #angst and fluff

[supernaturalgirl20]

The Way Back to You

Part 3

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving), semi public sex, a lot of angst, fluff, cursing, infidelity, mention of miscarriage, enlisting.

Summary: You find yourself back in your hometown after almost ten years. The one place you swore you’d never come back to. Now, back for your brothers wedding, you have to face your past, along with the man whose always had your heart. Can you have a second chance at forever?

Part 2

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Quickly changing you decide to wear one of your floral summer dresses and a denim jacket. When you finally make your way downstairs, Frankie stares at you wide eyed before crabbing his keys and heading for the door. “Come on, shortcake. Wanna get there early.”

You smile when you see his beat up red truck parked outside. “I can’t believe she’s still on the go,” You say as you approach Frankie, his hand reaching out to help you into the passenger side. “Yeah she’s still going strong.” He closes the door once your inside and runs around to the driver side and hops in.

You laugh as you take in the line of hats on the dash and Frankie smiles over at you with a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“You really do love your hats. I mean how old are some of these?”

He’s smiling at you, his face tinged red in embarrassment. “Yeah uh, I guess I don’t like throwing them out. This one’s still my favourite though,” he says tilting his head upward and your eyes follow to find the hat you bought him for his birthday one year sitting atop his head. How did I not notice?

“You still have it?”

“Yeah. Best damn present I ever got.”

You snort, “oh come on, it can’t be.”

“Swear on my life, baby.” He’s quiet then realising what he said and he averts his gaze towards the road finally starting the truck up. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine Frankie, honestly. Slip of the tongue.” The rest of the drive you both sit in an awkward silence until you spot the market. Thank god

“Does nothing change in this place?”

“Hmm?”

“All the stalls are exactly the same. Even run by some of the same people. It’s like stepping back in time.”

“Yeah. Mrs Rogers still asks about you.”

“She’s still alive? Is she here today? Can we go see her?”

Frankie smiles down at you and nods his head as he moves you forward through the crowd, his hand resting on your lower back. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”

Frankie watches as you greet the older woman and he can’t help the way his heart swells. Everyone always falls in love with you. It’s who you are. Kind. The sound of a child laughing breaks him from his daze and he looks up to find you bent down talking to Sally – Mrs Rogers granddaughter.

His air is punched from his lungs and he swears his heart has stopped beating. He’s instantly transported back in time to that night and his gut twists itself into a knot.

***

10 years earlier..

He burst in your bedroom door searching frantically until he hears quiet sobs coming from your bathroom. When he opens the door, he finds you on the floor, back against the bath as you cry uncontrollably.

He immediately sinks to the floor beside you and pulls you into him. “Shh, baby, it’s alright. What’s wrong? What happened?”

You’d called him crying telling him to come over straight away and he dropped what he was doing and hopped in his truck to rush over here. He’s worried. He’s never seen you like this before and all he wants to do is take away the pain. To carry whatever burden you have.

“I…Frankie we…”

“Hey, hey…take a deep breath baby ok.” He cups your cheeks and wipes your tears with his thumbs as he tilts your head up so he can see you properly. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.”

You sob again and instead of saying anything you lift your hand towards him and show him the object in your hand. A white stick and he’s a little confused at first until it all clicks. “Is that….is that a pregnancy test?”

You nod your head and meet his gaze but his eyes are blown wide in shock. He gulps loudly and his eyes flicker from you to the test and then he takes it from your hand and stares down at it. “There’s two lines. What….what does that mean?”

“It means I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” he whispers as his eyes stare at the two lines. He doesn’t move until you sob loudly again and then he’s throwing the test into the floor and holding you close. “Hey, baby it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere, ok?”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Whatever you wanna do baby. If you want to get rid of it, I’ll bring you myself and be there the whole time. If you wanna keep it, then I’m gonna step up and be a father to our kid.”

“I don’t know Frankie. I had plans. We had plans and now..”

“Hey. We can still do all those things. Maybe a little differently but we can still do them.”

“What do you want though?”

“Honestly?”

You nod your head up at him and you take in a ragged breath. “I wanna have this baby with you. You are it for me, Y/N, and yeah this isn’t what we planned but I want this with you.”

“I think I need a little time. I don’t know what I want.”

“We’ve got time baby. It’s gonna be ok.”

***

Present….

Frankie can feel the tears building and quickly blinks them away before slowly approaching you. “Hey Mrs Rogers.”

“Now how many times have I got to tell you, call me Margaret.”

“At least another ten.” She smiles at him with this sparkle in her eyes as she raises an eyebrow and tilts her head towards you. Frankie clears his throat and you turn to face him.

“Hey, sorry I was just talking to this lil cutie.”

“Hi Frankie,” Sally says before rushing to give him a hug. “Hey squirt. How’d that project go?”

“It was so good. Ms Thompson said I had one of the best in class and I got put forward for the science fair. I’m so excited. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“It was no trouble and if you need any more help you just get your grandma to give me a call ok?”

“Ok. Is this your girlfriend Frankie?” She’s smiling up at him and then looking between you both. Frankie can feel the nerves coursing through him and he reaches behind his head to scratch the back of his neck.

“I used to be,” you say smiling down at her but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Oh! This is her,” Sally says all excited and he can feel your gaze fixed on him but thankfully Mrs Rogers breaks the awkwardness. “Now Sally will you leave these two alone. Come on now, we have loads to do.”

“It was lovely seeing you again, Mrs Rogers.”

“You too dear and don’t be a stranger.”

You both continue walking around the stalls, trying some samples and then you turn to him with a guilty look on your face. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Back then. I…you would have made a great dad Frankie and I’m sorry I took that away from you.”

His heart clenches and he stops abruptly turning to you and running his hands along your arms. “Do not apologise. I’m the one who needs to say sorry. What I said….I never meant any of it. I was just so….I just really wanted to have a baby with you. Buy a house. Get married and I wanted it so bad I pushed you into keeping it when I knew deep down you didn’t want that.”

“I had all these plans and I was so unsure about the baby and then I saw the way you were so excited and I didn’t want to take that away from you. But I just wanted to leave this town so bad and then we had that fight and I was so angry at you. I felt like you trying to trap me here.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I know.”

“I would have followed you anywhere.”

“I know but I wasn’t thinking clearly back then. And then I misscarried and you got so angry.”

“I never blamed you. Not really. I was just so upset and what I said that night…I’m gonna regret it for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Will you ever forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive Frankie. We both said things we didn’t mean.”

He moves a strand of hair from your face and he begins to lean in when drops of water hit his face. “Shit it’s gonna rain.”

You both start to make your way back to his truck when the rain pours from the heavens completely drowning you both.

***

By the time you make it to his truck you’re both soaked to the bone and laughing so hard you’re stomach hurts. You look over at him as he leans back against the seat laughing – his hand on his stomach and that dimple on full display, and you all you wanna do is kiss him.

Before you can second guess yourself you lean over and kiss him passionately. He doesn’t move and that seed of doubt creeps into your head and as you begin to pull away he wraps his arm around you pulling you closer. His lips finally move against yours and when he runs his tongue along your bottom lips you moan into his mouth.

You move over to him completely straddling his thighs and his hands grip your hips tight as you begin grind against him.

“Hey…I don’t…” he says breathlessly as he pulls away slightly. It’s like a punch in the gut when you think he doesn’t want this but Frankie quiets the voices in your head when he runs his thumb along your chin. “Hey…I really want this believe me, I’ve thought about this since you came back but I don’t want you to feel you have to. Or that this is what I was looking for..”

“I know it’s not. Frankie I need you. I wanna feel you, please.”

“Ok. Let me just get us back to mine.”

“No can’t wait, please.” You grind against his growing bulge and he groans loudly as he closes his eyes, his fingers digging into your hips. “What if someone sees?”

“Don’t care..” you say as you fumble with his belt. He takes a quick glance around and when he sees that there isn’t anyone around he starts to lift his hips a little to help you free his aching cock.

Grabbing him in hand you pump him a few times before moving your underwear to the side and sinking onto him. You both groan as he fills you completely. “Oh fuck,” you cry as you begin to work your hips over him.

“Mierda! So good baby…Jesus I forgot how tight you are….not gonna last…ooh it’s like coming home.”

It’s hot and frantic and his hands are grabbing at your ass as you grind on top of him. You can feel that heat building as you move faster above him, the truck rocking with your movements.

“Oh Frankie…oh fuck….I’m gonna….oh god…”

“That’s it baby, come for me…let go I got you.”

His name falls from your lips in a soft cry as you come, your walls fluttering around him. Frankie thrusts up as he seeks his own release and when he tries to lift you off you onky grind down on him harder.

“Y/N…I’m gonna…please, no condom…”

“I don’t care…I want you to come inside me.” When he sees only truth in your gaze his finishes with a grunt as he spills inside you coating your walls with his hot come.

His breathing is ragged as he stares up at you, a sex induced smile on his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“As much as I wanna stay like this, my back is gonna give out .”

“Shit sorry.” You move off him and fix your dress. “I suppose we better go before someone sees us.”

“Wanna grab something to eat and head back to mine?”

“I’d like that. Where to?”

“Lola’s diner?” You both say at the same time. You laugh as Frankie fixes himself and then starts the truck. “Just like old times.”

Part 4

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @hungrhay @tusk89

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #triple frontier au

[pineappleandcake]

The Puppet

Pairings : Yandere Sandrone x Reader

Authors Note : There are barely any Sandrone fics when I searched it up on Tumblr. I was pretty upset. But I couldn’t sleep last night but I had this idea. It was where I was like “hmm so Sandrone was seen to be sitting on some sort of ruin guard during the Fatui Harbinger’s reveal, so why don’t I make something about it?” But anyways I finally put it into words LMAO. 

TW : Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, torture, non-consenual touching, blood, kidnapping, swearing/cursing, and syringes/needles.

It’s been a few months since you escaped from Sandrone. She was scary, she made you feel uncomfortable. She would often make you watch her as she experimented on things such as ruin guards and sometimes even people. Until one day you say something that made you completely lose it. That was when she tortured a man that looked at you for barely a second.

Obviously, she saw and she was furious about it. She wanted to prove a point. That you were hers and only she could ever look at you.

You were shaking and crying as you heard his screams of torture and pain.

“Open your eyes Y/N or else you’ll be next.”

You quickly opened my eyes and what you saw was a terrifying, bloody, gruesome scene. You wanted to faint.

“How dare you even bat an eye towards them.” She screamed as she hit and punched the poor guy in front of me.

You wanted to get up and run. Run far away from this horrible place. You wanted to go back to your old life. But unfortunately, you just had to catch the Fatui Harbinger’s eye.

You wanted to get up. But there was one problem. Your hands and legs were cuffed to the chair. Finally after what felt like years, Sandrone stopped torturing the poor dude.

“Take his body and dispose of it.” She said with a sharp tone as a fatui agent grabbed his body and carried it out of her office. 

You were shaking. You couldn’t even move. You just froze in place.

Sandrone turned around and looked at you with a fake smile on her face.

“Aww look at you.” She cooed as she caressed your cheek. “Such a poor little fragile thing. That’s what the bitch gets for even daring to look at my s/o.”

She wiped your tears off with a tissue, “hmm it’s getting late now. Come on, let’s go home.”

You didn’t even say anything. You were still frozen and scared.

She picked you up into her arms as she sat down onto the hand of a ruin guard. You visibly flinched as she touched you. You felt tears about to burst out of your eyes.

“Shh. Now, don't cry. It’s all over now.” Sandrone said as she kissed your lips. 

Sandrone had a remote in her arms as she clicked a button. Then the ruin guard became awake and started walking the both of you out of her office, making their way into the “home” the both of you lived in.

About an hour later the both of you finally got back home. She got up into her bed as she cuddled with you as you laid into her arms. You waited for her to fall asleep, and as soon as you did, you crawled out of her arms. You made a run for it and you never looked back.

Your new home was a small cabin in the middle of the woods. There were barely any people near your cabin that lived close by. You decided to get some fresh air as you felt like you wanted to take a walk and clear your mind.

You put on your coat and you began walking into a trail in the woods. It was refreshing to be outside. You have been walking for about an hour when suddenly you hear a tree branch crunch behind you. You jumped in fear as you scanned your surroundings, but you couldn’t see anyone. It wasn’t anyone, but rather something.

You checked behind yourself again when suddenly you noticed…

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

A fucking ruin guard was right behind you on your tail. 

Out of all the things she could’ve done. She sent a fucking ruin guard on your tail.

You fucking panicked as you ran and you hid behind a gigantic rock in the middle of the forest.

You waited for the ruin guard to go away. You were scared and your heart was beating so fast.

Suddenly, the ruin guard grabbed you into its hand. You screamed and thrashed around as you tried to break free from its suffocating grip. You notice the other hand of the ruin guard had a syringe in its hand.

The ruin guard lifted its other hand and lifted the syringe along with it. Suddenly the syringe went into your neck as you felt it pressing something into you. You suddenly felt sleepy. A few seconds afterwards, you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were chained to Sandrone’s bed. You had a gag in your mouth.

A few moments later, Sandrone entered the room with a smile on your face as she saw that you were finally awake. 

She had a tray of food in her hands as she placed it in front of you onto the bed. She tore off the gag and undid the chain on your arms. Unfortunately, she left the chain on your legs off that way you couldn’t do something stupid.

“Eat. You must be hungry already.”

You obeyed as you knew you were in deep trouble. The feeling of dread suddenly spread throughout your body as you were scared on what punishment you would receive from escaping from her.

Author’s Note #2 : GUYS HELP THIS WAS THE LONGEST FIC I’VE WRITTEN IN SO LONG. IS IT GOOD? I’M SCARED THAT IT’S BAD. HELP I’M SO PROUD OF MYSELF FOR WRITING THIS LONG ASS SHIT.

#yandere sandrone #yandere sandrone x reader #fatui #fatui harbingers #genshin impact #sandrone x reader #sandrone #yandere angst #capitano #pantalone #genshin #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere pantalone #yandere capitano #yandere childe #childe #pierro #columbina #yandere columbina x reader #fatui sandrone #sandrone x you

[jhirowolf]

Bruce was out on another patrol, keeping it down low, just like the last couple of days....or maybe it has been weeks? Bruce couldn't tell at this point, the days and nights started to blend together.

He heard a women scream, and rushed in her dierction on instinct, even if he knew that it could've been on of Selinas traps, it still could've been someone in need, and Bruce wasn't gonna leave it up to chance.

When he arrived on the rooftop right above the origin of the scream, he saw a young woman held with her arms behind her back, two cuts on her abdomen. The hand that constricted her wrist was pure white, as was the rest of the giggling horror in front of Bruces eyes.

He jumped down in front of them. "Let her go, Joker." "But of course, Batsy!" He giggled more as he let go of the womans wrist, she bolted it down the alley and away from the two. Bruce wished it was one of Selinas traps. "What do you want?" Batman stood still, rigid and uncomfortable as Joker started slowly walking to the side. "Oh you know, the usual, homicide, terror, chaos, cover the WE building in ice cream, come up with new ways to traumatize a person and..." His non-shalant walk stopped as his eyes fell on Batmans figure. "Putting you back together."

"What?" Batman raised his eyebrow. "A little birdie told me you haven't been quite yourself, darling." He kept playing with his blade. "I mean... the violence is a tuesday, and your relationship with the cat was always deemed to fail." He let out another giggles, ones that sounded chocked down by him, like he was holding something back. "Hard for something to work out when they don't know you, that's why we were always so good together, even at our worst, we still gave our all to the other." "Shut it." Batman said with gritted teeth, Joker chuckled.

"But fighting your family? Now THAT'S what got my attention." Another group of giggles escaped his rosy red lips. "I MUST say, i nearly died LAUGHING when i heard that after all my attemps to BREAK you, to finaly SHOW you that you don't need them, that you're better alone...you did it ALL by YOURSELF." He burst out into laughter.

Batman had enough, he charged at Joker, grabbed him by his shoulders and pinned him againts the wall. "I said SHUT. UP." Bruce leaned, barring his teeth like an angry dog. Joker laughed some more. "By why? Why should i keep it quiet, Bats? Does the thruth hurt?" He nearly started another fit of giggles if Batman hadn't punched him in his gut. "And you still haven't heard the best part!" Jokers hands flew to Batmans face, cradling it as he stared into the white lenses. "About what you've done to your. Little. Baby boy....JASON." "SHUT UP!" Bruce punched him again, sending the laughing maniac to the ground.

Bruce stradled him and grabbed him by the neck. "You do not get to speak of him!" Joker laughed. "Oh you HYPOCRITE!" Suddenly a knife was in Bruces side. "You think I ruined his life?!" He pushed Bruce to roll over, before sitting in his lap, forearms idly resting on Batmans chest as he leaned in. "At least I had the GUTS to end him! At least I could finish the JOB! Because, sweetie, I just killed him, i didn't force him to live through broken bones, ruined spine, punchtured lungs and a concussion of his life. " He held in another laugh, propably at the thought of it, maybe at the memory of that day, or at the memory of the stolen autopsy report. "No, no, I gave our boy mercy!" Bruce grabbed Joker by the throat and sat up before forcing Joker back down and punching him. "MERCY?! YOU PUT HIM IN THE GRAVE!" He hit him again.

"AT LEAST I DIDN'T PUT HIM IN A WHEELCHAIR!" He laughed, so loudly the rest of Gotham might've heard, tears flooded his toxic green eyes as his body shook and his feet kicked the air. Bruce let go of his neck. "What?" He took a couple of steps back. "No, I stopped him from ruining his life even more than he was, I gave him the chance to live a normal life." After a moment Joker caught his breath and bearings. "Oh yes." Joker got on his knees. "NORMAL. Normal, exept for the joys of fighting, of the outside world, of the pleasure of human body, of being able to have a dog." His arms spread wide with glee. "Because living hidden away from strong emotions and...anything above the most mundane of tasks is SUCH a normal ways to live." He giggled again as he got up, Bruce was leaning againts a wall, trying to keep his breath in check.

"Admit it, doll, i might've killed him, but at least i didn't RUIN his life." "YOU KNOW THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Bruce let out in panic. Joker stopped. "What? Are you talking about his little red hood?" Joker laughed again, leaning his head back in the process. "I didn't do THAT! I wasn't the one to bring him back or gave him the resources for that, as much as I'd love to take credit for what ended up happening. That was out of my hands....THIS, thought? That was ALL you." Joker laughed as he slowly walked up to the now panicing Batman. "C'mon, sweetheart, admit it, admit that it wasn't ME or any other villian of yours, but YOU who made you do this." Joker walked up to Bruce and cradled his face again as he gently put him againts the wall and looked into his eyes with gentle care and passion. "Admit it, for me, Bats. That you ruined his life, that it was you who conviced you to cross the line, you who made your family hate you, that you're no better than us....please, Batman." He whispered as his thumb ran circles on Bruces cheek. "You know that I am right, that this isn't my doing, or Nygmas, or Crocs, or Cats, not Tetchs, just...yours." Bruce looked down in defeat. "I admit it." Joker smiled as he leaned his forehead on Bruces. "That's all i ever wanted to hear."

He let go of Bruce, who's knees and palms hit the ground. "I hate you, Bruce, I really do, this was supposed to be MY win, but you can't let me have even that, can you?" Joker was sad, dissapointed. He let out a sigh as he watches Bruce helplessly on the ground, blood staining his suit, all fight gone from his body. "Bye, my love." Joker put his hands in his pockets and walked away, no triumph in his soul, he didn't feel like a winner, even if the Batman was broken.

The world felt hazy to Bruce, but he didn't fight it, there was nothing to fight, with Alfred gone, his family hating him, Selina fighting him, there was noone that needed him, Bruce let go.

#dc #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #batfamily #batfam #batman 138 #joker #gotham war #spoilers #this hit me and i was overtaken by a need #tw: death #tw: violence #tw: long post #tw: abuse #tw: character death

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Bruises That Won’t Heal - Black Rose Part 2

Summary: Rhysand returns from Under the Mountain with an announcement that Niamh desperately wishes wasn’t true. Black Rose Part 2, can be read as a standalone but it’s better with Part 1!

Pairing: Rhysand x OC (Niamh, pronounced ‘Neev,’ no physical descriptions)

Warnings: ANGST, allusions to sex, UtM happenings, PTSD, depression, aggressive behavior

Word Count: 3166

A/N: So I wasn’t going to post this but I’m on a hot writing streak right now and have issues with impulse control so here ya go! Also, the title is a lyric from ‘No Surprises’ by Radiohead, which I think goes with the angsty feel of this chapter. Also, did I mention there’s angst ahead? Cuz there is. 

Thank you for reading! Like/Reblog/Comments always appreciated!

Banner by yours truly, dividers by firefly-graphics

Mother above, Niamh thought to herself. 

The chair she sat in became impossibly uncomfortable despite its plushness. Rhys kept talking to the four other members of his inner circle but it sounded far away and dulled, like he was shouting at her from underwater. Her cheeks were hot and all she could hear was her own pulse in her ears. 

“Excuse me,” she said, rising and heading for the nearest balcony. She didn’t notice or care if anyone tried to stop her, she needed air. Rhys paused and she vaguely heard him call her name but she was already out the door, trying to remember how to breathe properly. 

From the balcony she looked out over Velaris sparkling below. The lights started to blur together as tears welled in her eyes. His announcement was a punch in the gut. Her chest felt like it was imploding when a mere twenty-four hours ago it felt like it was full to bursting. Her breathing was shallow, shaking fists shut so tight her nails were cutting into her palms. 

This couldn’t be happening. He had a mate, a gods-be-damned mate! That was what his strange dreams had meant.

She should’ve known. 

How could she have been so naive? 

The wind whipped past her form, invisible hands grabbing at her clothing and hair. For a moment she wished those hands were real, grasping small parts of her and tearing her apart — a thousand different pieces of Niamh drifting through the night sky. That would be preferable to the swirling heartbreak that had found a home in her chest. 

The potted rose bushes on either side of her grew rapidly into a thick hedge behind her, thorns growing sharper, a wall between her and the source of her pain. Braced against the wide railing, she looked down at her ring. 

The ring he’d given her when he promised her forever after she’d abandoned her brother in the Spring Court. With a shaking hand, she slipped the ring off. It was meaningless now, and she wouldn’t be the selfish one who refused to let him be with his mate. 

Even if it felt like her insides were shriveling, wilting, dying within her. 

She placed the ring on the railing, knowing he would find it. Hoping he would understand.

“Niamh?” a male voice called through the hedge. 

Cassian.

“I just need a minute, Cass,” she lied. Though it was a small consolation, she was relieved her voice didn’t break under the weight of a lie. She needed a lot longer than a minute to process exactly what Rhys had said. 

When he’d winnowed to the House of Wind, they’d run at each other after the moment of shock. Her broken, joyful cry alerted Mor in the other room. The three of them had collapsed on each other, she and Mor clinging to Rhys and him clinging to them just the same. Tears were shed, happy ones, and Niamh assumed he ducked her kisses because of his urgency to reunite with his family. 

They were all so elated to be together again that the full debrief of his time Under the Mountain was pushed until the next night. They drank and feasted and danced like it was Starfall and they were rowdy hundred-somethings again. Instead of everyone heading to their rooms, they all passed out where they dropped. 

Niamh hadn’t given much thought to his lack of physical affection toward her. He’d placed quick pecks on everyone’s cheeks, hugged each member of his family for minutes at a time (except Amren, who only managed fifteen seconds). 

“Do you, um…do you want me to take you home?” Cass asked quietly. She shut her eyes tight, chest constricting. Of course, he was ducking her affection because he had a mate. The tears leaked down her face and she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, remembering that he couldn’t see her through the rose hedge. Black roses. Her favorite.

She receded the hedge with her powers, just as she had built it. Cassian looked at her and she could see the secondhand pain written across his handsome face. It was more sympathetic than pitying, which she was thankful for as she crossed to him. He folded her into a tight embrace and she pressed herself into his leathers. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured to her, rubbing circles on her upper back as she tried to rein in the tears.

From inside the house she could hear Mor calling her name, but she didn’t have the strength to deal with her right now. Sensing this, Cassian lifted her into his arms and, with a gust of wind, lifted them both into the air and flew her home.

Three weeks passed and Niamh hadn’t seen any of the Inner Circle. She put up wards to prevent winnowing into her home and didn’t answer the persistent knocks at the door. She ignored the letters that showed up at least once a day. Even after almost fifty years she knew the handwriting on the envelopes. 

Her time was spent in her rooftop greenhouse, cultivating her various plant species and growing flowers to sell to local florists. It kept her hands and mind busy. Besides, she already knew exactly what Rhys would say to her so why bother reopening the wound? 

She was sitting against the arm of her couch in the living room, a book propped open on her legs when Mor appeared in front of her unlit fireplace. 

“Where the hell have you been?” the blonde goddess demanded, hands on her hips. 

“Huh, my wards must be down.” Niamh looked up from her book and shrugged. “Here.”

“Why haven’t you answered any of Rhys’s letters?” Mor gestured to the coffee table in front of them which was blanketed in the folded parchment. All the seals were intact. 

She turned her attention back to her book, not wanting her friend to see the flash of anguish in her eyes. “I’ve been busy.” 

“Bullshit. Why have you been ignoring us?”

“Because all of you are going to tell me I need to talk to Rhys or read his letters and I don’t want to hear it!” Niamh threw her book aside and rose to her feet, stalking into her kitchen. “He’s mated, Mor. Mated! After I waited for him for fifty years. I know what he’s going to say and I just…don’t see the point. We’re obviously over, I might as well move on.” 

“Honey,” Mor said as she followed her into the kitchen, “Don’t you want some sense of closure? An apology? To let him know how you’re feeling?” 

Niamh filled her kettle and set about making tea. She had to do something with her hands to stop the prickling feeling inside them. “No.” 

“So you’d rather ignore your entire family than have one uncomfortable conversation?” Mor scoffed, indignant. “Real mature, Niamh.” 

Niamh slammed the kettle onto the stove, denting the surface and startling Mor. She knew what Mor said was true — she was being childish by not facing her problems and having the conversation with Rhys. But she couldn’t help it. After fifty years of holding him together in his dreams, he’d come back to her in love with someone else. “Fuck off and let me grieve, Mor.” 

“Is that what you’ve been doing for the last few weeks? Grieving?” She could hear Mor approach, then felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Niamh nodded, not facing the other female. “But we got him back, he came home to us…”

“And immediately broke my heart. I’ve lost him twice now, Mor, and I just…I need time.” 

Mor’s warm hand moved and Mor embraced her from behind, her head coming to rest on Niamh’s shoulder. “Okay, okay. I’ll call off the Illyrians. But can you promise me something?” 

“What?” 

“That you won’t shut yourself off from us like that again. I understand you don’t want to see Rhys, but I miss my best friend.” Mor half-smiled and Niamh promised the two of them would go shopping soon. Satisfied with that promise, Morrigan moved onto lighter topics and sipped the tea Niamh made. 

Despite the undercurrent of despair, it was a pretty pleasant afternoon. 

Mor winnowed back to the House of Wind and found a despondent Rhys sitting in the same chair she’d left him in. Hands white-knuckle grasped in front of him, head bowed to the marble floor, as if he was praying to the Mother. For all she knew, that’s exactly what he was doing. 

He looked up when she entered the room, violet eyes wide and eager. “How’d it go? Is she okay?” 

Mor sighed long and deep, “She’s hurt, Rhys. She needs time.” 

“She’s had three fucking weeks,” he said, standing and beginning to pace. “And she needs more time?” 

“Turn the situation around, Rhys, how do you think you’d feel if you came back and she found her mate while you were…away.” Mor posited. 

The last few weeks had been difficult on her cousin as he resumed his post as High Lord. Long days and nights reacquainting himself with his court, his people, and what issues had arisen in the last fifty years that required his attention had left him exhausted. Today was the first time he’d had a chance to bring up Niamh, mentioning to his cousin that she wasn’t responding to his letters and asking if she’d heard anything from the Spring Court convert. 

Then, upon hearing that no one in the Inner Circle had seen or heard from her, he’d frantically ordered Mor to check up on Niamh and report back. His nerves were frayed from fatigue. Mor could see his mind spinning through every horrible thing that could’ve happened to Niamh, and she had to admit that she was also concerned, so she’d agreed. 

Rhys paused his pacing and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Awful. I’d feel…awful. Crushed. Obliterated.” 

Mor approached her cousin as gently as she’d approached Niamh earlier, like approaching a cornered wildcat. “So maybe ease up on her. She just needs time, okay? She’ll come back, but we need to give her space for now.” 

Rhys’s shoulders slumped when she placed a hand between them. He spun and pulled her close to him, his wet tears dampening the shoulder of her dress. She didn’t mind. 

“I missed her…so much. I survived, clawed my way through every awful thing so I could see her when she dreamwalked to me. She kept me sane, Mor. I owe her everything, and she won’t even be in the same room as me.” 

“She’ll come around,” Mor comforted him. “I know she will.” 

His voice sounded so pained when he said, “I loved her. I…I wanted to marry her.” 

Mor stroked his hair, her own eyes misting over, “I know you did.” 

One Week Later

Simply to torture himself, Rhys found the secret compartment in the headboard of his bed at the townhouse and pulled the velvet box out from inside it. With a deep breath, he opened it. 

The ring inside was slightly worn, but beautiful. He could still remember the day he’d bought it from a jeweler in the Rainbow, practically giddy with excitement to ask Niamh to marry him. A band of intricate silver vines, small clusters of diamonds framed a rare black emerald. 

He’d proposed that night, about twenty years after she became a permanent fixture in his court. They’d never gotten around to the actual marriage ceremony due to one thing or another, High Lord business or her work with his spymaster demanding too much attention to plan a wedding. Hell, forget a wedding, he would’ve happily sworn their vows in front of a city clerk, but for whatever reason they never had.

He’d found the ring on the railing at the House of Wind. While recounting his years under the mountain and revealing the news of his mate, he’d watched Niamh’s expression falter. The light behind her eyes dimmed and she’d drawn into herself before exiting the room. He wanted to go after her, but Amren’s questions had stopped him. A few minutes later, he watched from the balcony as Cassian flew her toward the Rainbow. 

Probably for the best that they’d never married, he thought bitterly. He’d be in an even more impossible situation now. Feyre would still be his mate but he would be married to Niamh. 

Feyre was his mate.

He couldn’t help the tingle of excitement that ran up his spine whenever he thought of her, but it was followed by a sickening wave of nausea that he suspected wouldn’t go away until things were right with Niamh. Whenever that would be. She was stubborn and could hold a grudge, just like her brother.

Her brother, whom his mate was currently planning on marrying. 

“Mother above, what a mess,” he said out loud to no one, falling back on the bed. He raised the ring box above him and snapped it closed. 

He couldn’t do anything about having a mate. Whatever forces of the universe deemed that he belonged with Feyre and nothing could sever that tie. 

But he loved Niamh deeply, truly, and a not-insignificant part of him still did. What was he supposed to do with that love? Especially since the object of that love wouldn't come within a hundred feet of him, wouldn’t respond to the numerous letters he sent, who told Mor that she needed “time.”

And even when “time” was up, what then? They would never be the same. Within the first two weeks of his return, he’d settled back into his friendships with everyone else but Niamh. Cassian’s inappropriate jokes, Azriel’s dark sarcasm, Mor’s sharp tongue, Amren’s deep wisdom, it all came back to him. It all welcomed him home like a warm blanket that, unfortunately, was a few inches too short. 

He needed Niamh’s curios intelligence, her open smile, her quick wit. The way her eyes would light up when he brought her rare seeds or specimens, how her hair would fall in her face while she was deep into research. 

The little noises she made when he kissed her just right. How her body responded so deliciously to him. How safe and loved she’d made him feel all those years when she would visit him in his dreams.

His heart fractured at the reality that he might not get those things back. In all likelihood, he would never see those parts of her again. 

As happy as he was to have found his mate (even if she was engaged to a shitbag), he was equally as devastated to lose Niamh. His own heart was broken, and Niamh didn’t know that. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him, but it was taking all of his self-control to stay away. 

A knock sounded at his door and he bid whoever it was to enter. Azriel and Cassian entered the room, but Rhys didn’t move from his splayed-out position on the bed. 

“You okay, boss?” Cassian asked. 

“No,” he answered, “What is it?” 

Azriel approached him and held out a sealed envelope. “It’s from Niamh.” 

Rhys sat bolt upright and snatched the letter from Az’s hands. He recognized her handwriting and the green rose wax seal on the back. 

“Did she say anything to you? Does she want me to respond?” 

Azriel shook his head slightly, “It’s all in the letter. We’ll be outside if you need us.” 

“And by that he means we’ll run to the liquor store so you can drown your sorrows once you’ve finished it,” Cassian joked, earning him a punch in the chest from Azriel as they walked out and shut the door behind them. 

With shaking hands, Rhys broke the seal and extracted the letter. 

‘Rhysand, 

I don’t even know where to begin but Amren said she wouldn’t stop knocking my plants over until I wrote you something, so here I am. 

I’m devastated, Rhys. Like the rug has been pulled out from under me and then a piano was dropped on my head. I’ve been avoiding you because I know what you’ll say. It’s not your fault, you didn’t plan for this to happen, you’re so, so sorry. While I don’t doubt the truth behind these sentiments, actually hearing them from your lips would only serve to devastate me further. 

We just got you back and I’m losing you all over again. Only this time you’ll still be around, deeply in mating-love with someone who isn’t me. When you were gone it was like a part of myself was missing. I searched hundreds of dreams for you, and when I found you I couldn’t bear the waking world. I wanted to live in our dreams forever. I know you did too. Maybe you still do.

Which brings me to my announcement; I’m leaving the Night Court. I’ve taken a job in another court with an old friend. By the time you’re reading this, I’ve already left. Please, Rhys, don’t come looking for me. I am safe.

Just know that I hold no ill feeling toward you or your mate. I love you, Rhys, and I always will. And that’s why it’s better if I leave. You and your mate will have a better start if you have nothing holding you back. 

I wish you all the best, and I hope someday we can meet again as friends. 

All My Love,

Niamh’ 

Rhys was shaking with rage as he finished the letter. He sprang to his feet and rushed downstairs to where his brothers were waiting, each with a drink in hand. Cassian offered him a glass with a generous pour of whiskey in it, but Rhys slapped it away and pinned Cassian to the wall with his forearm on the Illyrian’s windpipe.

“Did you know about this?” he shouted, inches from his brother’s face, pressing his weight onto his brother’s neck. “Did you know she was leaving?” 

“Yes, we did,” Azriel answered calmly from behind him, “She gave us the letter yesterday, then I flew her to the border.” 

Rhys dropped Cassian, who gasped for air. He turned his attention to the shadowsinger, shoulders hunched with tension, fully intending on leveling the spymaster with his bare hands. 

“Rhys, think about this rationally for a second,” Azriel said, holding up his hands. “How is your mate going to react to another female you used to be in love with — betrothed to — hanging around?”

His shoulders sagged. Az had a point. The Mating Bond made both mates possessive to the point of danger, especially in the early days. And Rhys was already keeping Feyre in the dark about more than he’d like. 

“I just…wish I got to say goodbye. It’s like I’ve lost her again.” 

Cassian had poured him a new drink, and Rhys accepted it as he fell back into a plush chair, exhausted and boneless. 

It was the first of many, many drinks that night. And most of the nights to come.

Part 3

#acotar fic #acotar angst #acomaf angst #acomaf fic #rhysand x oc #rhysand x reader #rhys x oc #rhys x reader #rhysand angst #post utm #broken hearts #angst angst baby #inner circle #acotar #acomaf #acowar

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A fae-ke

“Looks like you forgot one of the rules for interacting with the fae,” it crooned with a false kind of sympathy. “5) Do not insult them.”

Or: A changeling finds a new home.

Cassandra Cain had always known that something was strange about her.

Her father had trained her to have a complete understanding of body language, she could tell when his was off. She could see it in the slight crinkle of his brow when he looked at her, the way his lips just barely tugged downwards at the corners in disgust, she recognized the anger making his eyes narrow.

But he didn’t look at other people like that. He didn’t have any emotions for other people, as far as she could tell. So there was something about her that upset him.

As long as he didn’t realize she was a liar, though, she didn’t mind.

She knew what her father was saying when he spoke. Despite his attempts to make her only learn to communicate in body language, people around her spoke enough for her to pick up quite a few things. However, whenever she did try to speak she got in trouble. She wasn’t quite sure why it was wrong for her to speak when everyone else – including him, she had heard him say things a few times – got to. But why would her dad ever steer her wrong? He might despise her no matter what she did, no matter how she tried, but he seemed motivated to keep her healthy.

That was what she had thought…

Until one fateful day.

She had been at the kitchen table, shoving spoonful after spoonful of cereal in her mouth. It wasn’t enough to fill her, it never was, but she wasn’t allowed more than what she had. So, she busied herself by drumming on the table, her fingers tapping out a tune she had heard her father whistling earlier that day.

He had burst into the room, his eyes bright when they landed on her. He rushed over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could steer her out of the chair and out the door.

Today is the day, it all meant.

She wasn’t sure what was today, but the man’s excitement was starting to bleed into her. It wasn’t often that her father was happy around her.

He dragged her out into the yard. A woman was laying there, writhing desperately in her binds, screaming through a cloth in her mouth.

Cass looked up at her father, her smile fading just slightly. She conveyed a silent question by furrowing her brows.

Her father shook his head.

Okay, she wasn’t allowed to ask questions.

She felt something enter her hand, and looked down at the blade she was given. She looked up at her father in confusion, and the man gave a small smile that said trust me and Cass did so she allowed him to guide her to the ground. He grabbed the woman who was trying to wriggle away in earnest, now, and dragged her closer.

And then he carefully positioned the knife on the woman’s chest.

He made a motion that was somewhat different from the cuts that Cass often used while cutting apples to snack on. But, she supposed, this person was much bigger than an apple.

Was she supposed to eat her? She couldn’t think of why else she was cutting up a person. The thought was strange. She’d prefer not doing that.

But her dad was looking at her expectantly, and Cass supposed that she didn’t have much of a choice here.

It was more difficult than Cass was used to. Something hard pushed back against her almost immediately, and she frowned as she threw all of her weight into pressing the knife in.

The hard thing broke and Cass gave a quiet yelp as she sunk in more fully.

It was nothing in comparison to the sound the woman made. She sounded like Cass did when she fell, like all of the air in her chest had been punched out of her. Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

Cass pulled the knife out and she made the sound again, but worse. It was guttural. Hell, it didn’t even sound human.

She started shaking and screaming in earnest, bound limbs straining against their binds.

But the woman grew tired. Quickly. Unnaturally fast. Faster, even, than the red liquid that was spilling out of her at an unnatural rate. The sounds petered off into soft sobs.

They petered out into nothing.

There was nothing.

No body language, no sounds, no movement at all.

Cass reached out and touched her shoulder, trying to wake her up, but she knew this wasn’t sleep. People still moved in their sleep, still had minute changes in expression and soft breaths. This was something more.

The woman was, for lack of a better word, gone.

And Cass had done that to her.

She felt sick. The cereal she had been chowing down on earlier started to creep its way up her throat. She pressed her hands to her mouth, only to recoil when she felt the blood smear itself on her chin.

Her breakfast came up. A hand pulled back her hair, and that only made her dry heaves more painful for some reason.

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

Her father gathered her up in a hug when she was done, and Cass couldn’t even bring herself to enjoy it. She felt trapped. She wanted to be let go. But her father forced her to meet his eyes regardless.

She was a bad woman, her father tried to comfort her. But that didn’t change the fact that she was a woman.

No one deserved that.

Cass didn’t stop shaking for days. It was as if the very universe had noticed the fact that that other woman had gone still, and now her punishment was she had to move for both of them. There was so much. She felt like she was about to vibrate right out of her skin. Like she was about to break into pieces. Like she was falling apart in the most literal sense.

Her father tired of her inability to leave bed within the week. It was a shock he had lasted as long as he had, really. He’d never been a patient man, nor a kind one, so clearly he had been aware ahead of time that this was going to affect her and had planned accordingly. But she was supposed to be over it by now, apparently.

But then he touched her arm and realized that this was much more than her being ‘overdramatic’. He jerked his hand back as if he had been burned – and he had been. Her skin was unnaturally warm. Beyond that of a normal sickness. It was a wonder that her sheets weren’t steaming.

He tried soup, and pain medication, but Cass could hardly keep them down. And, regardless, her father seemed to think it wouldn’t work even if she could eat the food.

Finally, in a last-ditch attempt, her father left to get help.

Hours passed, and Cass almost managed to fall asleep, but then she heard the quiet murmur of voices get closer and closer. She peeled open sticky eyes and squinted at the harsh light that streamed through the windows.

“May I come in?” came the unknown voice.

Her father gave a dry laugh. “I wouldn’t have made you come all this way if you weren’t supposed to.”

“It’s just a formality thing.”

The door swung open, and her father entered, a looming figure just behind him. The figure wore a heavy, baggy cloak that obscured their body shape, but they were so tall that they looked imposing regardless. They pulled down their hood.

Instantly, she knew this was a fae. For the body language was all wrong – a mess of too many signals all jumbled together, and yet nothing at all. It was unnatural. He was unnatural.

He smiled at Cass, but it seemed more for her than itself.

And then he turned to look at her father. Its face was impassive, but its eyes were sharp. Dangerously so. “When did this start?”

Her father hesitated. Which was uncommon for him.

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “She just… became sick one day,” he said.

The faerie shook their head. “That’s not how it works. She’s a Changeling, they don’t get sick unless you force them to do something they’re not supposed to.”

Her dad looked very pale.

“I suppose I could ask her…” the faerie said with false innocence, a lilting tone that spoke of suspicion and barely concealed anger.

Her father grimaced. There were a few moments as he seemed to think it over.

And then he sighed. “I didn’t teach her to speak,” he said.

The faerie’s eyes snapped to her father instantly, wide and horrified. “Why not?”

“Because it felt wrong. She’s not a human.”

“She’s a kid,” the faerie argued.

“She’s a couple of rocks and sticks you tied together with leaves.”

The faerie scowled. “And yet she’s more human than you seem to be.”

Her father gritted his teeth. “Are you going to help or not?”

“Are you going to tell me what you did or not?”

There was a long silence as the two stared each other down. Cass’s skin crawled in a new way, anxiety gnawing at her stomach. Her father wasn’t a patient man, and the faerie didn’t seem all that pleased with what was going on either, but they were both stubborn and she was suffering. She understood that it was deserved – she had killed a woman, the least she could do was deal with a bout of sickness in order to atone for it – but she was a coward, and she wanted nothing more than to have this all go away.

“He made me kill her,” she said.

As it had been the few times she had ever spoken aloud, her voice wasn’t exactly her own. Instead, it was a mimic of the person who had talked in front of her last.

Her father’s head jerked backward, confused as to how the faerie had spoken without opening its mouth. And then he noticed the way that they were staring at her in mild horror and turned to look at her.

She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Her father, or the faerie.

Or who looked angrier.

The anger in her father’s face slipped off instantly, though, replaced by horror. He turned to look at the faerie, who looked positively murderous.

A knife flashed in her father’s hand, dark metal gleaming dangerously in the light, but the faerie caught the hand with ease. With a twist of their wrist, her father’s knife dropped to the ground with a clatter, and the man was left at the mercy of a very pissed of faerie.

One that locked their free hand around the man’s throat.

“Looks like you forgot one of the rules for interacting with the fae,” it crooned with a false kind of sympathy. “5) Do not insult them.”

“I didn’t –.”

“She’s a faerie, too, is she not? And I believe you said ‘She’s a couple of rocks and sticks you tied together with leaves.’ She may be merciful, but I am not.”

Her father’s eyes widened. Hands scrabbled at the faerie’s, trying to loosen the fingers pressing against his neck, but the faerie didn’t even seem to notice.

“I will make sure your punishment is appropriately fitting.”

“Don’t kill him,” she choked out. Her voice hurt from disuse, but she wasn’t going to watch that happen again. She didn’t care if she wasn’t the one doing the killing, it was wrong.

Her father’s eyes flitted her way. They widened with shock and anger and relief and Cass couldn’t make sense of much of any of it.

The faerie looked over at her, blue eyes gleaming. “I won’t,” it promised.

Her father disappeared. Replaced with a bundle of sticks and rocks and leaves that fell to the ground in a series of dull thuds and rustles.

Cass blinked over at it. “Is he okay?” She asked.

The faerie smiled. “He’s alive.”

Cass nodded slowly.

It meandered over to her, its eyes taking in her house. Distaste flickered across its face, a minute thing hidden in the slight twitch of its lips, but then it was gone. They smiled at her, coming to kneel beside her bed. He pressed a hand to her forehead, and instantly all of the pain receded, leaving her warm and pleasantly happy, snuggled under some blankets.

He gave her hair a tiny ruffle, and she leaned into the touch.

It felt right.

It shouldn’t.

Cass hesitated just slightly, her eyes straying to the bundle of things that had once been her father, and then up to the faerie again.

“You said you made me.”

The faerie looked pained. “I did. Your father came to me a few years ago, begging me to give him a child to take care of.” He sighed. “The thing about not being able to lie, is you tend to forget others can.” They smiled sadly. “This shouldn’t have happened to you. I’m sorry.”

At the words ‘I’m sorry’, the faerie’s heart began to glow gold inside its chest. Light bent around them, stretching itself between them like a physical bond had been formed, and she watched a golden string slip into existence, tying the faerie’s heart to her wrist. It was featherlight, and she had some doubts that it was even real, and yet it held a weight to it. Somewhere, intrinsically, she knew what it meant: he owed her.

But the faerie didn’t seem surprised. It had been intentional.

She looked at him for a long moment.

“Are you my dad, then?” She asked.

The faerie hesitated. “It doesn’t quite work like that… but, if that is what you want, then I would be more than happy to be your father.”

She eyed the string binding them. She could ask for anything, and there was a good chance that her wish would be granted.

“I want that.”

The faerie smiled a little and started carefully picking her up, blankets and all. She let her head rest upon his shoulder, and a small kiss was pressed to the crown of her head.

“Then let’s go home, shall we?”

~~~~~~

Bonus~

Babs: really, Bruce, another one?

Bruce: does it make it better or worse if this one is actually mine and I made it

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

All fae-n and games masterlist

#a fae-ke #all fae-n and games #fae #faerie #fae folk #faeries #fair folk #changeling #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #black bat #orphan #batgirl #batman #david cain #whom we hate