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#but i know this break will last several days and i am also internally screaming over how quickly my internship is rushing up on me
miodiodavinci · 4 months
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(lays down in a field of soft cotton) i accept my fate. but begrudgingly.
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ms-rampage · 1 year
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Anything For Khaleesi
John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut. Language. Some fluff.
Word count: 4k
Author's note: I am a firm believer that Soap has a crush on Game of Thrones character Daenerys Targaryen (or Emilia Clarke in genral), and refers to her as his wife. So Y/n decides to exploit that crush. Also, lots of Game of Thrones talk, sorry to those who don’t watch the show. I had only recently started watching it myself. 😅😅😅
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So you've been working with the 141 Task Force for not long, you're an operator. Ever since your arrival Soap had taken a liking to you, but of course he would never admit it.
He played it off as being friendly, since he's that way with everyone, but you were 100% sure he has a crush on you.
One time you were going to his room because he had borrowed some laundry detergent. Oh the irony, you hope he hadn't used all of it since you bought it in bulk and was expensive.
When you approached his quarters, you knocked on the door. "It's me!." you say before being allowed entry.
"It's open." you hear him respond.
You enter, and hear the sound of a dragon, and people screaming coming from his TV.
"Game of Thrones?." you ask, turning to look at what he's watching.
"Mhm." he hums, not looking away from the TV.
"Do you still have that laundry detergent I let you borrow last week?." you ask, turning to him, but his full attention is on the television.
"It's over there." he answers, motioning to the shelf behind you. Taking it from the shelf, needing to get some laundry done before you're stuck with piles of paperwork for the next few weeks.
"Catching up?." you ask him, on his status of the show.
"Rewatching." he replies, still not paying attention to you.
You could've walked into his room naked and he probably wouldn't even notice, or naked with a baby dragon on your shoulder.
"Your eyes are glued to that damn tv." you joked, trying to break his concentration.
To your surprise, he actually looks away from the TV to look at you.
"You watch the show?." he asks, sitting up slightly in his seat.
"I’ve only watched up until season 4. Mid season 4." you tell him, "Haven't caught up since."
He chuckles, "You're a few seasons behind lass." He has that cute little side smirk that made you fall for him, but you’d never tell him that. It would cause a lot of teasing from his end.
You sigh, "Yeah, I know, but I have laundry to do, I'll catch up at some point. I gotta get going, I’ll see you around.”
“See you later lass.” he says, before leaving his room.
Fast forward to several weeks later, a few weeks away from Halloween. You assumed no one dressed up for the day. The occasional decoration here and there, some candy, but nothing serious.
You chuckle, as you knock on his door, “You alright in there Soap?.” You don’t know, but he actually jumped as you knocked at his door.
Ghost scared you on a mere daily basis, especially when he would turn up unexpectedly as you walked down the hall. So that can count as a Halloween scare. Walking down the same hall as Soap’s quarters, which is in the same building as yours. You hear the sound of moaning coming from his room.
Getting up from his seat to open the door, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” he says, trying to keep his cool, and himself collected.
“Alright, cause it sounds like you’re watching porn in there.” you joke which makes him turn red.
“I’m, uh, watching Game of Thrones.” he mutters, “It's at a-.”
“Sex scene?.” you finish his response, “I figured. Well I won’t interrupt, enjoy your sex scene.”
That response makes him laugh, “You’re welcome to come in, since you need to catch up on the show.”
You decided to take him up on his offer, “You know what? Sure, I’ll watch it with you.” That put a smile on his face.
You can’t tell, but he’s internally doing flips, and cartwheels because Soap does, in fact, have a crush on you. Gaz and Alex being the only ones who know this, Ghost doesn’t really interfere in that sort of thing, and Price suspects Soap has a thing for you, but not it being mutual.
“What season are you on?.” you ask him, taking a seat on his couch.
“Finishing up season 7.” he tells you, “Am I gonna rewatch it again? Yes.”
“I got to season 5.” you tell him, “So spoilers are ahead of me for this season.”
“I got you.” he grabs the remote, and changes the episode to season 5, “What episode?.”
“I believe episode 9.” you tell him, “I’m getting to that one.”
He changes it to season 5, episode 9. The Dance of Dragons. It gets to the part where they’re in the fighting pit, and the Sons of the Harpy are attacking, surrounding Daenerys, Missandei, Tyrion and Jorah, then Drogon comes to save them, taking Daenerys to safety.
“Daenerys and Missandei are totally in love with each other.” you say, “Either that, or they’re really really close friends.”
“Both, possibly?.” he says, “She’s had many lovers, Drogo, Daario, and spoiler, Jon Snow in the later seasons. If I had a woman like her, I’d never let her go.”
Now that makes you throw your head back in laughter, “You think you’d have a chance with the Mother of Dragons?.”
“Absolutely!.” he tells you in a matter of fact tone, “I would definitely have a chance with her.”
"You got a crush on her? Or Emilia Clarke?." you ask, shifting in your seat.
"Both." he responds, "She's my wife."
That really makes you holler out. He's ridiculous, and an idiot but he's your ridiculous idiot.
You two continued to watch the rest of season 5, then all of season 6, and you made your way into season 7. At some point you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder. He felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you asleep. You looked so cute, and he didn't want to move, not wanting to wake you. A whole episode later, you wake up. Forgetting where you were. “Shit.” you mutter, rubbing your eyes.
“Hey sleepy head.” he teases youu, “You missed a few episodes of season 6.”
"How long was I asleep for ?." you asked, sitting up.
"An hour, you missed half of episode 2, and the first half of episode 3." he tells you, "Or at least I think you did."
You checked the time on your phone, and it was starting to get late. "I should get going, it's after 11."
Soap checks the time on his phone, "Shit, we really did watch a whole season. Well I did at least you fell asleep".
You sleepily laugh at his comment, "Shut up." Followed by a yawn.
You both get up from the couch, he opens the door for you while you gather your things. "Goodnight." you tell him.
"G'night." he responds as he closes the door.
A few days later, you're in your room doing some paperwork, taking a minute or 2 away from it. You search online for any Daenerys Targaryen outfits and a silver wig. You wanted to test the waters and see how Soap would react to you dressed as his so-called 'wife'.
You found a few of them, you were wondering what outfit would he like the most.
You settled with the blue dress she had worn season 3.
The silvery blonde wig, you wanted it to be real hair so it'll be easier to braid, but synthetic hair is slightly cheaper, and nearly similar. So that is what you went with. You ordered the dress, shoes, the wig and other accessories. Making sure you got the right size and measurements, even if it was a little big, you can always hem it, but if it was too small then you'd have to DIY your own dress after spending so much money on the one you purchased for one day, or somehow lose a ton of weight for it to fit.
With Halloween being a few weeks away, you hope it came sooner rather than at the last minute.
A week passed, and your items had arrived. You went to check for your mail, and everything came in a box. You looked like a gremlin going from the mailroom to your quarters with a semi large box in your hands.
Making it back to your room, you open the box and the dress is beautiful, from looking at it. It looks like it'll fit you.
The silvery blonde wig, now it won't suit you, but hey, it's only a costume, not a permanent look.
You had it prepared, and ready for Halloween, the wig you kept on a lamp that you never used. You hoped no one saw it, so you kept it at the far corner of your room covered by a stack of boxes.
You and Gaz were hanging out in the base's lounge area.
"Does anyone ever dress up for Halloween?."you ask him.
"Not really, with Ghost wearing his mask all the time, it feels like Halloween all the time." he tells you.
You let out a soft laugh, "Yeah, I can imagine."
"Price and Laswell usually have bowls of candy here and there, but nothing too major." he continues. "Why? Are you planning on dressing up?."
You shrug, as if you didn't spend money on a silvery blonde wig and a dress, "Probably not, wouldn't know what to dress up as anyway."
Some time later you walk down the hallway towards your room, and surprise, it's Soap man coming from the opposite direction.
"Y/n!." he calls out.
"Hey." you greet back to him.
"Haven't seen you for a while." he tells you, "Laswell keeping you busy?."
You let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah, she's been keeping me busy. Paperwork that I still need to get done."
"I'll let you get back to it." he tells you, hand on your shoulder. "See you around."
And that day has come, Halloween. 7am. You took a shower before getting dressed, you put on a little bit of makeup before you got dressed. You carefully put the blue dress on, so it wouldn't get stained by your makeup. The cloak that came with the dress, the dark pants and boots.
This could be an everyday outfit for you, without the cloak though.
Finally, the wig, you had styled it the night before. Taking 2 small pieces of the hair making it into one braid, then taking 2 more pieces and making them into one braid. It sounds complicated, but the image helps out when doing it.
Luckily the wig came with a bald cap, keeping your actual hair away, and in place.
Having the whole outfit intact, you almost didn't want to look in the mirror out of embarrassment, but when you did, your whole face turned red.
"Oh my god." you hold back your laughter, one hand over your mouth. This color of hair did not suit you.
"Oh fuck, Y/n. What are you doing?." you tell yourself. Oh that's right, you wanna know if Soap actually has feelings for you, and so you dress up as The Mother of Dragons, Daenerys Targaryen for this holiday to get a reaction out of him.
Just go about your day, don't even acknowledge the fact you're wearing a very silvery blonde wig. It suits Emilia Clarke, but not you.
You gather your stuff and go on with your regular route on base. Soap probably isn't in his room, he's probably in his office, or chatting with the other members of the 141.
Your regular route involves going by Captain Price's office, and so you made a quick stop at his office. He's usually there, plus you had to give him some files that Laswell had you working on the past week.
Once you get to his office door you knock on it even though it's open slightly.
"Come in." he responds, looking down as he fills out some paperwork.
"Captain, I have the paperwork Laswell wanted me to give to you once I finished." you tell him as you enter.
"Set them down Y/n." he tells you. Setting them down on his desk.
"Was there anything else Laswell wanted me to do for you?." you ask him, still waiting for him to look up at you in this ridiculous wig and blue dress.
He sighs, "No, not that I-." He cuts himself off when he sees you in this costume. "Know of." He lets out a breathy chuckle that makes you burn red.
"Did you attend to the dragons, Khaleesi?." he asks in a joking matter, but playing along with whatever is it that you're doing.
You can't help but burst into laughter, "I did, and they're growing everyday. Soon they'll be able to feed themselves."
You both share a laugh for a few seconds.
"I think you're the only one who dressed up." he tells you. "That's if the others dress up."
"I would say Ghost too, but then he looks like that all the time." you tell him. "I think it'll be a tied costume contest if there's one."
You two chat for a bit, getting a few compliments from a few other soldiers walking by.
"Soap is gonna lose his mind when he sees you." Price tells you, "I know you and him are fans of the show."
"I'll know it when he sees me." you tell him, "I'll see you around Captain."
You continued down the hall, your usual route that you do everyday. You hear Gaz and Soap's voices coming from the lounge area. You stop in your tracks, fix your dress, and wig before proceeding.
Soap sat with his back to you while Gaz turned his head as you walked in.
"Hey guys." you greet them as you walk in. Keeping your cool, and trying to act like you're not wearing a costume.
"Uhh hey, Y/n." Gaz greets back. Soap hasn't looked at you until you sat in the chair in front of him.
"Hey Soap." you say, taking a seat in the chair across from home, looking through a book that is on the table in front of you.
"Hey Y/-." he stops as he is completely hypnotized by your appearance. Hand placed over his mouth. You can't tell if he's laughing, or crying, or both.
But his change of mood, makes you do the same.
"What?." you ask, putting on an innocent tone "What's wrong??."
"What are you doing?." he asks, if you didn't know any better you can tell his eyes were heart shaped right now.
"I'm doing anything." you say innocently. "Just reading." You flip through a page in the book you're 'reading'.
He knows what game you're playing, and it's a dangerous one. "You're a tease. You know that lass." he tells you before getting up from his seat and leaves.
"Am I a tease?." you ask Gaz.
"You planned this? Didn't you." he answers your question with a question.
"In a way." you respond. "Didn't mean to give him an awkward boner.". Making you two laugh.
Towards the end of the day, you've gotten many compliments on your costume. Hell, even Ghost complimented you, it's not unusual, but somewhat rare.
You're heading back to your room, right when you pass Soap's room his door immediately swings open, and he pulls you in. You didn't even have time to process what just happened, it was very quick.
Locking the door the second you're in. Pinning you against the door, both his hands on either side of your head. Your hands are down to your sides, flat against the door.
"You cheeky little minx, you thought I wouldn't notice lass." He tells you, his eyes dark and feral.
"I don't know what you're talking about Johnny." you tell him still playing the innocent card. His face inches away from yours.
"I think you do." he whispers in your ear, his whole body pinned against yours. You can tell your cheeks are red by the burning sensation you feel. Feeling a slight poke at your inner thigh.
"You wanted to get a raise out of me, did ya?." he growls, moving a strain of hair from the wig out your face.
A smirk now on your lips, "I know how to get you. It's quite easy."
One of his hands snakes to the back of your neck, the other on your waist. A growl comes from the back of his throat, "You know how to get me going, especially dressed like this."
His lips clash with yours, a moan escapes your mouth. One of your legs snakes around one of his. Both your hands on his shoulders.
His kisses are rough, and aggressive. His hand squeezes the back of your neck. Making your legs weak. Seeing this, he grabs you by your thighs and lifts you up. Carrying you towards his bed, dropping you onto the bed, breaking the kiss, letting you catch your breath.
"Fuck." you pant, biting your lip, looking up at him. He chuckles looking down at you, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Gotcha where I want you Khaleesi." he says with an exhale, before kissing you again. His lips hungry, and wanting more of you.
You hand trails up his shirt, he grabs your hand, stopping you from going further.
"Not so fast." he chuckles, breaking the kiss, "Since you decided to tease me. You're gonna take it like a whore."
His words made you wet down there. You can feel it. You love this feral side of Soap.
"Strip." he commands you, taking a few steps back to give you some space.
You start with the shoes, once those were off you got to the pants, lifting up the dress slightly to remove them.
Once those are off. You unclipped the cloak, tossing it aside, same with the necklace. You stop for a moment.
His eyes still dark, even more dark than from a few minutes ago. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?."
"No." you mutter in a soft, naive tone. Grabbing the dress but it's hem, you pull it up and over your head. Your bra and panties, matching the same color as the dress. You notice the bulge in Soap's pants.
You're about to remove your wig when his words stop you.
"Leave the wig on." he orders you. There you are standing in your sargeant's room in your matching bra and panties on Halloween. He can't help, but take in your beauty. He's had a crush on from the day he met you. The only thing in common you two have is this damn show, probably other things too.
"You're.. so beautiful." he tells you, feeling butterflies in his stomach. Cupping both your cheeks, and placing another kiss on your lips. Your hands gently touch his neck, one of them, tracing down to his pants.
His movements are fast, he quickly spins you around, forcing you to bend over on his bed. Knocking the wind out of you. "Shit." you mutter under your breath.
You hear the sound of his belt being undone, followed by a zipper. His rough, calloused hand giving you smack on your left ass cheek causing you to yelp.
He yanks down your panties, the only thing that was covering how wet you are. Running two of his fingers down your wet folds.
"Khaleesi, wet for me already, huh?." he teases, followed by a chuckle and him sucking on his fingers. You feel the tip of cock, teasing your entrance. Causing you to whimper and squirm.
One of his hands gripping your shoulder to keep you place, while the other is on your hip. Enjoying how you try to get away from him.
"Just like how the Dothraki fuck their women, huh?." he whispers in your ear, forcing his cock into your wet core.
"Fuck!." you exclaim, grabbing the bed sheet as he rocks his hips against yours. "Oh. Fuck."
Letting you adjust to his cock before pulling down, and shoving it inside you at a more aggressive pace. Your tight walls squeezing his cock as you push yourself back against him. Back arched.
Abusing your poor hole, stretching you out completely. You feel him put his hand on your stomach.
He chuckles, "Looks like I'm inside you, lass." Going back to his fast, rough pace.
You're holding onto his blanket for dear life, balling it up to muffle your screams into. He was ready to get you to cum over and over for the rest of the night.
Once he's done abusing your back hole, he turns you over onto your back. Both of you are sweaty, and out of breath, but he was determined to get you to cum.
Somehow your wig stayed on during all that. He kicks his shoes off, shirt already gone as well as his pants, and boxers. He stood naked before you, while the knky article of clothing you had on was your bra.
Trying to catch your breath, he attacks your neck with bites, and soothes them with kisses. Leaving his mark on you.
"Johnny, please." you beg, feeling your makeup run from the sweating you're doing.
A shit eating grin on his face with one hand on your waist, "Please what doll?."
You let out a pathetic moan, "Please fuck me."
Letting out a devious little chuckle, "Anything for Khaleesi."
He lines himself up with your soaked velvety entrance, and shoves himself in you. Pinning you down, grabbing both your wrists with one hand while the other remained on your waist, giving him a better advantage to rearrange your insides.
"Fuck." you cry, arching your back.
"You take me so well baby." he groans, snapping his hips back and forth against yours. "You know how to get me going."
Hoping no one hears the pathetic noises you're making, but at the same time you wouldn't really care, especially if he was making you feel this good.
You begin to feel yourself come undone.
"Fuck.. J-Johnny." you whimper, "I need to-." Followed by the most pathetic whimper you've ever produced.
"C'mon lass, use your words." he teases you yet again.
"I need to… cum." you cry, tears running down your face, "Please.". Your toes curling, feeling like you're losing control of your limbs.
"I want to cum with you." he tells you, one hand on the back of your neck again, "Together, can you do that for me?."
You let out an incoherent moan.
"Use your words, love." he places a kiss on your forehead that turns you into putty.
"Y-yes, Johnny.. I can." you try your best to mutter out. He continues to fuck you at an aggressive and rough pace, like he's trying to catch up with your euphoric climax. By the time he knows it, he's ready to release himself.
"Where?." he asks, holding back until you give him permission where to release himself.
"Inside.. please." you plead.
He raises his eyebrows, "You sure?."
Nodding, "Yes, please."
His movements become sloppy, and start to slow down. "Please, I need to-." you beg yet again.
"With me, my love." he tells you, foreheads touching. You both cum at the same time. The feeling of release, makes the both of you nearly pass out of pleasure. Soap drops himself on top of you. Breathing heavily, sweaty and needing to take a shower.
"You okay love?." he checks on you, moving the strain of wig hair out of your face.
"Yeah, I'm fine." you respond, "You were amazing." Bringing a smile to his face, "You were better.". He places another kiss on your lips. He takes in the image in front of him.
You naked in bed with him, and dressed as the Mother of Dragons, or what is remaining of your clothes.
"I'm not sure how this wig stayed on during all that." you joked, taking it off for a second to fix it. Soap laughs at the fact you're wearing a bald cap to keep your actual hair intact.
"Nice bald cap lass." more teasing from the Soap man.
You let out a soft chuckle, before putting it back on "Shut up."
You two proceeded to stay in bed a little longer before showering, but you two ended up staying in bed for the rest of the night.
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razorblade180 · 2 years
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Nine Days of Lancaster
[Day 2: Road-trip]
Ruby:Left.
…..
Ruby:Wait, several more miles and then a left.
…….
Ruby:Or maybe going right and then-
Jaune:Ruby, please put down the map. You’re stressing me out.
She looks over at him to see his hands gripping the wheel of their Jeep like his life depended on it. The vehicle bumped and shook over the rugged terrain of Anima’s forests. Sunlight broke through the branches and the smell of budding summer warmed Ruby’s heart.
Ruby:Ya know…Anima is pretty nice when we aren’t walking on foot on a dire mission.
Jaune:This mission is pretty dire.
Ruby:Why am I calmer about going to your old camping grounds than you? Also why don’t you know it by heart!?
Jaune:Cut me some slack. It’s been forever and it’s a little ways away from my actual town. I was too young to drive or pay attention. I think we’re still an hour away. It’ll be nice to see what things look like. Haven’t been this close to home in awhile.
Ruby:Can’t wait to see that waterfall you’ve hyped up. I wish the others could’ve tagged along.
Jaune:We all can’t suddenly drop everything like we used to. Besides I doubt Weiss likes the idea of making a tent.
Ruby:Haha, it would probably fall on her.
Jaune:They can all next time, hopefully.
Ruby:You say that but you seemed really chipper when I was the only one able to go.
Jaune:*red* Well…that’s because I want you around the most.
Ruby:*red* Oh…that’s sweet.
……
Ruby:If you need a break we can switch?
Jaune:I’m fine. Just take in the view.
Ruby did her best to do just that. However, even when her eyes looked through the window, they always found themselves looking at Jaune’s reflection; he’d occasionally look at through it as well but neither said a word. They were terrible at stealing glances.
Jaune:Was what I said weird?
Ruby:Hmm!? N-No! I just…I don’t know. I became aware that it really is just us, isn’t it?
Jaune:And whoever else is camping, but yeah, it’s just us right now. Can’t remember the last time it was just us.
Ruby:Yeah. We should make that a thing.
Jaune:Wha..what!?
Ruby:Not like- I mean- us hanging out alone, it never feels bad. It’s always nice.
Jaune:I feel the same.
……
Ruby:
Ruby:*blushing* I told the others not to show up. I like you.
Jaune:*stops car* I’m sorry, you…
Ruby:Don’t make me say it again! *puts hood up*
Jaune:Sorry. I just can’t believe it I guess.
Ruby:Why? Jaune, we’re always clicking and coming with the craziest things. Yang said I was sticking out like a sore thumb. I guess-
Jaune:I can’t believe we even had the same ploy.
Ruby:Ploy? Wait, what!?
Jaune:I…*rubs head* might’ve asked Ren and Nora to sit this one out too. For obvious reasons. I…like you too.
Ruby:
Ruby:Jaune?
Jaune:Yeah?
Ruby:Is this a date?
Jaune:Yea. Seems like it is.
Both sat in silence momentarily. Jaune started driving again and she kept her attention outside. A sudden warmth on her left hand made Ruby jump. On top of it was Jaune’s. She didn’t mind it. His eyes remained glued to what could be ahead. Ruby gently took more initiative by interlocking their fingers. Even if she didn’t have a mirror she knew her face had to be crimson.
Jaune:Next time, I’ll ask you properly on a date.
Ruby:*smiles* I’d like that very much. So, are we…ya know?
Jaune:Do you want to be?
Ruby:Don’t answer my question with a question! I don’t know. This is a lot right now!
Jaune:Haha, let’s just enjoy the trip for now. We have plenty of time to talk about it and figure things out, okay?
Ruby:Yeah, you’re right. *leans back* What’s the rush?
xxxxx
Saphron:Hey guys! You decided to go to the older stomping grounds too!? Guess I wasn’t the only Arc feeling nostalgic. Hey, is it only the two of you? *gasp* Does my baby brother have a girlfriend!? Are you here to visit mom and dad?
Ruby and Jaune: Internal screaming (We have no time at all…)
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letarasstuff · 3 years
Text
One kind of intern
(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.
Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour
Wordcount: 2k
✨Masterlist✨
___________________________________
“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.
“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.
“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”
The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”
That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.
“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.
“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”
While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.
“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.
“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 
“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”
Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”
“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.
“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”
Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.
“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.
“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”
“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.
The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”
Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.
“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.
“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.
“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.
“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.
“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”
A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.
“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.
“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”
Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.
“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.
“I mean yes but how?”
“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.
“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.
She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”
“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”
“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”
Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.
“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.
Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”
“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.
“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.
“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”
“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.
The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.
Taglist:
Spencer Reid
@calm-and-doctor
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Note
Hello! Um hopefully this is ok but can you do a platonic poly relationship with tech reader and philza? And one day the reader comes over to there abode with a basket full of sweets and pastries (muffins bread ect-) also cottagecore quiet reader please she/they pronouns
Thank you! :D
(A/N): I’m back yall! Sorry I’ve been gone (in terms of writing/request doing) for so long, I just kinda lost motivation to write for a bit
Ok so you’re childhood best friends with Technoblade
You two met when you accidentally bumped into each other in the village by the sbi fam’s house
You were calmly along the cobblestone path when a cute dress in a store window caught your eye. You kept walking, but you were eyeing the dress as you walked by it. It was just your aesthetic: a vintage ruby red dress with laces tying the two sides together, a floused opening to the bottom of the dress, and puffy white sleeves. It looked like it was in your size too. It was absolutely perfect.
Just as you were about to walk into the store to check out the price, you bumped into someone and fell to the ground behind you. Looking up, you saw that the person that you bumped into was also on the ground looking at you. You saw that the boy was about your age with fair skin and long pastel pink hair tied into a messy ponytail. Peculiarly, he had small tusks poking out from his bottom lip, floppy pig ears on the top of his head, and crimson eyes. A piglin hybrid perhaps?
Feeling a small blush work it’s way onto your face, you quickly got up and held out a hand to the boy. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay? Here, let me help you up.” 
He looked at your hand for a bit before he grabbed it with his own and allowed you to haul him up to his feet. You looked him up and down scanning him for any injuries he might’ve gotten from the fall. Luckily, it didn’t look like he got hurt. The boy looked down at his feet and bent over to pick up the picnic basket and the few muffins that dropped out of it. Putting the muffins back in, he handed the basket back to you with a small smile and a blush of his own.
“It’s really no problem, I’m fine so it’s no harm done. Actually,” he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, “I wasn’t looking where I was going either. I got distracted by that sword in the window.” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder at the armory shop next to the dress shop. In the window was a shining golden sword glimmering in the bright sunlight. If you squinted, you could see a sign that said that it had a high level fire aspect and looting enchantments. 
“Well, it looks really pretty. I don’t know much about swords, so maybe you could tell me about them? I’m (y/n),” you gave him a small smile and stuck out your hand once more. He shook it with a grin, “Technoblade.”
That was the start of a beautiful friendship with him and his family
You met Philza, his father
The avian was extremely excited and happy that his quietest son finally made a new friend
He treated you like you were his own daughter
You might as well be a part of the family with how much you came over to babysit Tommy or to just relax with Techno
You always bring over a basket of baked treats/pastries whenever you came over
Lemme just say, the family feasted and always fought over the last one
When you started to come over at least once a day for a bit with a basket full of sweets, Philza had to pull you aside and ask you to slow down a bit with the treats
“Hey (y/n) could I actually talk to you for a second?”
“Sure! Tech, I’ll be out in a sec.” The piglin hybrid curtly nodded and walked out the back door to the backyard. You smiled at Philza before you set the basket down onto the table and started to put the rolls onto a plate.
“I know it’s not much today, I didn’t have much time yesterday to bake.”
“That’s fine, but it’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” Internally, you began to panic slightly. Oh Ender, you didn’t do anything bad did you? You couldn’t think of anything you did wrong. In fact, you actively avoided any wrongdoing or talking to strangers. Oh no, were you accidentally rude to someone?
“You aren’t in trouble,” he smiled lightly when he saw you slump in relief, “I was just wondering why you always bring over baked things. Don’t get me wrong, they’re delicious and we really appreciate that you take the time to make us things, but we kinda have a little too much. Maybe slow down a bit with bringing them over?”
You felt an embarrassed blush spread across your face as you nodded and put all your focus into transferring the bread rolls over to the plate. “Sorry Phil, I just bake whenever I’m stressed or bored and I just have a lot left over after I give some to my family.”
“And that’s completely valid! Just maybe don’t bring over so much, breaking up the fights with Tommy, Wil, and Tech just gets a bit much at times,” he grinned and clapped a hand over your shoulder.
As the years passed, you and Techno only grew closer
You taught Techno how to do meticulous neat braids in his hair while in turn he taught you some self defense
Mans makes sure you can properly and efficiently wield a sword and shoot a bow and arrow 
Poor guy can’t lose another friend
When he moves to the tundra, he invites you to live with him but you reluctantly refuse
You had Tommy and Wilbur to look after in L’manberg
Being pissed at Schlatt when he exiles them
Following them into exile leaving behind shocked Manbergians 
They didn’t think you were capable of the screaming, let alone such profanity
Practically launching yourself at Techno when he agrees to helping Pogtopia
Him making sure that the withers don’t harm you, even going as far as hitting them and luring them away from you
Staying with Techno after L’manberg is reinstated under Tubbo’s rule
Starting to dislike leadership and governments in general after Tommy gets exiled (again)
Convincing Technoblade to let Tommy stay with you two
Absolutely hating governments when the Butcher Army places Philza under house arrest and rolls up to your guys’ house and takes Techno and Carl
They lock you in the house, but you pick the lock with the bobby pin you kept the bandana pinned to your hair with 
You follow them to L’manberg and break down when you see the anvils crashing down onto Techno
Screaming profanities at the Butcher Army and taking out your sword to attack them not noticing when Techno runs away safely
Philza watching everything from the balcony and cheering you on
You almost take away one of Fundy’s (whom you considered to be your nephew until the whole Butcher Army incident) lives before you feel a sword slice your arm and an arrow shooting its way through your thigh
Turning, you gave Tubbo and Ranboo the fiercest glare you could as you were standing over a half-dead Fundy with a sword dripping blood hanging at your side
You, the soft spoken and sweet one that gave everybody baked goods wherever you went, screaming profanities at the festival and the execution was scary enough, but this?
Absolute nightmare fuel, gonna stick in their minds for a long time
You attempt to fight them but you lose and end up with injuries too severe for you to continue fighting
Philza being the one to yell at you to go home to the tundra telling you that Techno’s alive bc of a totem of undying 
You felt kinda stupid after that, Technoblade never dies (you often half joked that he was immortal like Philza)
You limp home and get met with a bone crushing uncharacteristic hug from Techno
He patches you up after reassuring you that the blood on him wasn’t his (he tells you about the duel in great detail)
In turn you tell him about your 3 v 1 duel, feeling a bit dejected bc you ended up losing
Him being literally so proud of you for facing 3 people at once, but also scolding you slightly for going into it blindly
When Philza moves in, everything feels complete and fulfilled (at least to you)
You help Philza clean and dress his damaged wing
Also helping him do some physical therapy so that he could at least move it
Comforting him whenever he felt down about not being able to fly again
You invite him and Techno to cook with you and it surprisingly ends up better than you expected it to be
When Tommy betrays Techno, you and Philza end up being the only ones he could fully trust (later slowly adding Niki and Ranboo to the mix when The Syndicate is formed)
You are Harpocrates when The Syndicate is formed due to your quiet nature
Philza and Techno fully 100% supporting your decision of not wanting to reveal your identity
At the second meeting you show up with a full mask covering your face and the opposite of what you normally wore (more of a grunge type beat)
Only communicating in nods and writing at meetings, living up to your nickname
You never reveal your identity to Niki or Ranboo
Pleasant late night conversations around the fire with hot chocolate and your baked goods
Techno still lets you braid his hair (sometimes you even put flowers in it) from time to time
You braid Philza’s hair when it gets too long
Braid chains when yall get too bored? Hell yeah 
Ultimately, you three become a strong family unit (goals)
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur
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moonlit-imagines · 3 years
Text
Misbehavior (Part 1)
Jason Todd x batkid!reader
warnings:
a/n: tysm anon!!
prompt: anonymous: “Hello Lacey! Hope your doing great! Could I please request a bat family x batsis!reader where the reader is Kind of the middle child (I was thinking older than Damian but younger than Tim) and she’s always forgotten and in the back. Maybe some scenarios can be that no one listens when she talks or they forget to invite her to do stuff. So then one day she acts up in school like maybe punching someone for no good reason because she’s craving attention but instead of Bruce showing up to get her Jason shows up and he sees that she’s actually really sad and starts to question her until she tells him everything and maybe spills some tears and it ends with just Jason comforting her and cheering her up. Just some soft Jason for my soul! Also have a great day and I hope that you feel better and more motivated now after your break! 😘”
part 2
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No matter what you did, none of your deeds went unnoticed. Good or bad.
You always heard how Dick was so independent, the one everyone should use as an example.
You always heard how Barbara could do it all, she never failed to impress.
You always heard how Jason was reckless, someone who needed to get his act together.
You always heard how Tim was such a prodigy, he was one of a kind.
You always heard how Steph was so determined, she had such amazing goals.
You always heard that Cass was perfect, they’d never change a thing about her.
You always heard that Duke was so strong, he’d never give up no matter what stood in his way.
You always heard that Damian was dangerous, a kid that needed to be guided.
But what about you? What did they hear about you? Nothing. No one ever spoke of you, they didn’t have the time. It seemed as if you were just unimpressive, there wasn’t one thing that needed to be mentioned. Stuck in the middle of a bunch of bats and birds, no way to stand out in the crowd.
Maybe not in a mask or a cowl, a dress or a suit, behind a computer or among the darkness, but there was one place you couldn’t be ignored...
You sat at your desk, picking at old tape with the tip of your fingernail. The teacher had nothing interesting to say, so what was the point of being here? What made Gotham Academy so special that you just had to attend this place?
The uniform was overkill, the classes went nowhere, the students were too preppy, and you didn’t have a single thing in common with anyone here.
Anger was starting to bubble inside you as you continued your internal self-loathing. Your mind was only focused on the negative, but it was shifting from school back to home.
No one was ever there for you, not even on patrol. You’d called for backup several times on missions and nearly lost it all when you had to go in alone. If it were anyone else, a teammate would have met them in a heartbeat.
Your plans were always overshadowed whenever you tried to set up a mission or even just a day off. You wanted cookies? Too bad, Tim wants brownies. You wanted to watch a movie? Too bad, everyone chose a TV show. It was the little things that irked you the most. Half the time, you never even got the memo.
And what about when you all come back from patrol with all sorts of injuries and Alfred comes to patch you up? Well, not you. He’ll run to check on cuts and scrapes. Meanwhile, you had a broken wrist and a black eye.
You’d finally run out of things to pick at around your desk which resorted in you tapping instead. There was a brief bit of zoning out as you remembered the time that Damian’s plan for evading Killer Croc’s attack was to push you in the way. Or the time that Jason hid his guns in your bed for reasons he didn’t care to explain. Or when Dick drank the last of the milk and didn’t tell you until after you poured your cereal. Or when Tim told you that you weren’t fit for the mission he had been planning. Or when Bruce blatantly ignored the story you told out of pure excitement, giving you nothing but a “sounds like you had fun.”
While you were in a horrible daze, you felt a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of it faster than the Barry Allen. Without even evaluating the situation, your reflexes caused you to turn and twist your classmates arm backwards as he screamed.
“Hey! Stop, ow, that hurts! Stop! Stop it!” You processed his words too late and knew exactly what was coming next.
“Y/N L/N!” You teacher shouted as you drew your hand back. “Dean’s office. Right now.” Her sharp voice sent a chill down your spine, not even the Joker could do that. You’d be able to explain the situation pretty easily, you just didn’t want to make it worse. But there was one ankle that sent you off the edge. Another student tripped you on your way through the aisles, and that student caught a fist to the face. The audience gasped and shouting from your teacher ensued, but you didn’t listen, you’d take the punishment at this point. So you walked right out and headed for the dean’s office without so much as a hall pass.
“Mx. l/n? What’s this about?” Dean Williams was surprised to say the least, you’d never been sent in for discipline before. Was there a certain way to do this?
“Well, I zoned out and some kid behind me grabbed my shoulder, I accidentally twisted his arm.” You retold your story, the abridged version. “But on my way out I punched a kid in the face because he tripped me. That one’s on me.”
“...Well,” the dean frowned at his obligations, but had to go through with some kind of punishment, “I’m going to have to suspend you for physical contact with a student. I’ll call your father to come pick you up.” You shrugged and slouched back in your chair, giving up on any hope of talking your way out of this. It might as well just happen. You listened to the clicking of the buttons on the dean’s phone as he typed in the Wayne Manor phone number, obviously reaching Alfred almost immediately.
“Wayne Manor.” You eard his faint voice through the speaker.
“Hello, this is Dean Williams from Gotham Academy, may I speak to Mr. Wayne? I have his child in my office.” Your dean explained over the phone, peeking back at your for a split second. You were completely unbothered, it was baffling.
“Is it Damian?” You heard him ask, causing an involuntary eye roll.
“Y/N, actually.” There was a long pause before someone else picked up the phone. “Mr. Wayne, this is Dean Williams at Gotham Academy. I have y/n sitting across from me right now, they seemed to have gotten themself into a physical altercation with two separate students, I have no choice but to suspend them.” You heard a deep sigh over the phone, then the handheld piece was handed to you.
“Bruce?” You asked.
“Really? Fighting at school?” He sounded unimpressed. Nothing new, even when you do something new.
“Something like that. Whoops.” He hung up on you right after that, so you handed the phone back and told your dean, “Guess they’ll get me soon.”
“You call your father by his first name?” Dean Williams had nosily questioned.
“I’m adopted.” He obviously didn’t know you as well as your more troublesome sibling, it was time he just minded his business.
After a good thirty minutes of silent waiting while listening to keyboard clacking and papers flipping by the front desk, the office door opened, and to your surprise, it was one of your brothers.
“I’m here for y/n.” He mumbled, signing the piece of paper and showing his ID.
“Alright, Mr. Harper, I just have to check some paperwork really quick...” The receptionist went into your file and checked for your emergency contacts. “You’re all set. Now, y/n has been suspended for two weeks. I suggest you get to the bottom of their little ‘outburst’ before they’re able to come back to school.” It actually pissed Jason off to hear her say that.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcasm wasn’t subtle. “Come on, kid.” Your brother gripped your arm and led you out of the office, noticing your bitter expression that he couldn’t even rationalize. Was that normal? “So what happened. Bruce just told me to come get you.”
“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes on the brink of tears, he didn’t even come to get you himself. Jason opened the car door for you and nudged you inside, slamming it once you were clear.
“You better have a good reason,” he warned as he started the engine, “I was in the middle of a poker game.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m such an inconvenience.” You were starting to remind him of himself. That was never a good thing.
“Okay, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason began speeding down the block, you’d never once seen him obey a speed limit. You’d think someone with a fake ID and a death certificate would want to avoid any run-ins with the cops, but Gotham was just one of those cities.
“Yeah, right.” You reached for the radio knobs and felt Jason’s hand wrap around your wrist.
“No music until you explain yourself.” You fell back into your seat to pout, muttering some curses under your breath. “I won’t tell Bruce or anyone. I swear.”
“I just zoned out. Reflexes.” You bluntly replied.
“What?” He still didn’t have any context to go off of.
“I twisted someone’s arm backwards. Honest mistake.” Jason knew there was more to this story. “But on my way out of the classroom, I punched this kid who tried to trip me. That was on him.”
“As much as I condone payback, you can’t do that at school.” He sighed. “You’ve never been sent home before. That I know of. So why now?”
“Yeah, you know, maybe that’s the issue? You couldn’t tell me if I’ve ever gotten in trouble before. None of you could. You couldn’t tell me a definitive thing about me. When’s my birthday, Jason?” He was at a loss for words. “That’s what I thought.”
“So this was all for attention?” Jason asked. “There’s a hell of a lot of better ways to go about that.”
“Tried them all, this one barely even worked.” You replied with a crack in your voice. “How come none of you care about me? Why am I always looked over? I’m just like the rest of you. I put on that stupid suit every night and kick ass, I get my job done, I get good grades, I’m resourceful, I’m special—” You’d let that last one slip in your rant to your older brother, it shocked him so bad he stopped the car.
“I know what you mean.” Jason stared straight ahead at the empty road. “I felt the same way when I came back. After everyone was used to me being back, it was like nothing ever happened. Bruce just went back to calling me careless, irresponsible.”
“At least you get noticed, Jason. Your identifiable.” You turned to him with a pained look and he risked his confidence to look you in the eye. Once he did, he couldn’t look away. It hurt him to see someone so familiar to himself have tears running down their face because they felt forgotten. No kid should ever have to feel like that. That was why Bruce took him in. That was how Jason became Robin.
“Fuck this.” Jason hit the gas and turned the car around. “We’re getting ice cream. Do you like ice cream? That’s a serious question.”
“I...I guess.” You were somewhat confused by his sudden literal change in direction.
“Good. You’re my kid for today, all my attention goes to you. I’m sure Bruce won’t notice if you’re gone for a few hours.” Jason’s jaw dropped at his last comment. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, you’re right and you should say it.”
taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //
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thesunshinebunny · 3 years
Text
When the world falls apart, the only thing we can hold onto is ourselves (Part I)
Series Master list
Pairing: Canon Eren Jaeger x reader
Content: Angst, unstable relationship, breakup, smut/nswf+18, major character death, violence, blood (obviously), war (pretty obvious)
Summary: War and hate. It’s what defined the world at this exact moment. You failed your comrades, and by failing them, you failed yourself. Your relationship is hanging by a thread and your enemies will not only be found on the other side of the sea, but also in the mind of the person you love the most. How will you take the reins in the face of so much destruction?
Chapter Summary: After watching their teammates die in battle, reader begins to question their sanity and of their so-called partner.
AN: let me say goodbye to my favorite girl, who got me the best laughs and relieved my anxiety while reading manga chapters. At the same time, let me succumb to the misery and enlarge the wound with an canon Eren. I won’t be against following this fic if I see that a lot of people like it, but my list of fandoms isn’t going to change, this will be a unique exception.
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The chill in the air from the airship rushed through my veins. Less than two hours ago, I had seen countless comrades die, each one of them struck by bullets in different parts of their bodys or eaten by a Titan. I had seen countless lives fall and had been unable to save any. I knew we were going on a suicide mission, but deep down inside of me, I hoped we would all come home alive.
I was very naïve to think of a happy ending in this rotten and violent world.
Inside the room I was in, my mind wandered looking through one of the few windows this war machine gave us. I wasn't paying attention to what Levi or Eren were saying, I didn't even have the slightest intention of asking why Zeke was with us. Although being a member of the Survey Corps and a direct and in training medic, I was not fully informed of the missions. Eren’s courtesy.
Bored and mentally tired, I left the room where my leaders were having a heated discussion with "humanity's last hope." I didn't have the strength to add more charcoal to the fire, but trust me when I tell you I wasn’t at all happy with Eren's plan, simply and exclusively because I was completely unaware.
I walked down the hall making a mental note to kick the brunette in the face like Levi did when we got back. If my so-called partner, who had the decency to slowly push me away over the last year without explanation, wasn’t confident enough to tell me whatever was going on in his mind, then we would be in front of the doors of a serious conversation back home.
I opened the door where the scouts were when I heard a rifle go off. My eyes went wide and fear washed over me. I instantly scanned my body for wounds, completely ignoring the situation happening in front of me. Finding no sign of impact, I looked up only to find Sasha falling on her back, with a bullet impact on her chest.
The world seemed to have frozen as did my body. No one was able to move. Blood was spreading around Sasha's body, staining the floor, and that's when I reacted. My body moved on its own, pulling the cloak off my shoulders and folding it to make a small pillow. My ears didn’t catch any screams or cries from my teammates, as if I was underwater and the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat accelerating, threatening to come out of my ears.
"I need a syringe with anesthesia, a pair of tweezers, a needle, a lighter, bandages and hot water, NOW !!"
No one was moving, everyone was in shock, including me, but I was layered enough to know that if we didn't do something, Sasha wasn't going to survive.
"Jean, Connie, I need surgical elementes! NOW!!"
The two boys came out of it, running around the room, even going to the continuous, looking for something that might serve, while I tore Sasha's shirt and took her equipment. Mikasa was next to me grabbing the pieces that were in the way.
"Mikasa, I need you to put pressure on the wound and don’t move your hands"
Connie came running back with the anesthesia in hand, trying to give it to me, but me failing. The syringe fell to the floor, but thanks to whatever deity was watching us it didn't break. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, making it impossible for me to inject the needle into the glass vial.
“Sasha… I need you to stay awake, ok? I need you to keep your eyes open at all time"
The dying girl in front of me didn't give me an answer, but I knew she heard me. In the background, I could hear the desperate cries of the others, apart from the fact that someone had hit the culprit in the face. I injected the anesthesia and proceeded to remove the bullet from the lung. Mikasa reapplied pressure with wet cloths.
"Sasha everything will be fine, I assure you, everything will be fine, so don't you dare die on me, okay?"
I couldn't tell who I was addressing those words to, the girl who gave us the best laughs in our training days, or me.
Lighter in hand I proceeded to cauterize the wound, but my eyes fell on Sasha's, noticing how the life had left her eyes. The light that was so bright in her pupils had faded, leaving nothing more than an empty countenance.
"Sasha?...Sasha? hey, this isn’t funny, Sasha wake up…Sasha?? SASHA?!!?!" ...
"SASHA!!!"
Again.
Again I’d been unable to do anything.
Again I’d to see how I was unable to save someone.
Again.
I had seen a mate die. Again.
My chest contracted, the air was impossible to get in or out and my lungs cried out to explode. My stomach wanted to regurgitate, but there was nothing in it, causing me to spasm. My vocal cords were damaged from screaming and my head was about to collapse.
My whole body was about to collapse.
"How dare you!? You son of a bitch, how dare you to shoot the person who forgave your life?"
My anger was now directed at the child they had wanted to bring with us. It was impossible for me to look at her without having the desire to break her face, to make her suffer ... to kill her. To take revenge for Sasha.
“SHE FORGAVE YOUR LIFE BY NOT GIVING YOU A SHOT IN THE HEAD AND IS THAT HOW YOU PAY HER? YOU HATE US SO MUCH? HOW MANY MORE LIVES DO YOU WANT TO TAKE FOR US TO BE SATISFIED?"
My legs got up, leading me towards the girl, but arms held me from behind, preventing me from continue walking, preventing me from taking revenge.
"HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU? YOU ARE THE REAL DEVILS"
In the end, my body collapsed, completely loosening and causing me to almost slide down Connie's arms. I fell to my knees when he released me, snuggling up and hiding my head in my arms. Tears flowed like waterfalls with no intention of stopping and my screams reverberated across the metal in the room.
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Connie opened the door where our commanders were still arguing. Both with tears in our eyes gave the worst news of the night.
"Sasha died"
Jean and Hange's faces were disfigured and Levi hid his grim outline from us. The room was silent, but all that could be heard were my sobs, spasm after spasm.
"She had a ... a bullet impact ... in ... in the chest ..."
It was difficult, almost impossible, for me to relate the precarious medical report of our friend's death, trying to help me with the movement of my hands ... but even so the spasms won me over. I fell back to the floor, tears invaded my face once more and my ability to articulate words was gone down the drain.
Hange approached with a slow step and placed their hands on my shoulders, giving me the help I needed to give the report. I took several minutes of deep breaths and when my lungs returned to normal, I spoke again.
"Sasha had a bullet impact on the chest, on the left lung ... There was no exit, so the bullet was stuck in there...it pierced two ribs, tearing the skin of the lung and causing internal bleeding... I managd to remove the bullet, but I didn't have time to cauterize and sew the wound ... she bled to death"
Every pause I took to breathe made it so much worse for me to speak back. If it weren't for the fact I was undoubtedly taking deep breaths, I would have passed out from distress and hyperventilation.
"I could have saved her ... I know I could have saved her"
Silence reigned over the room, sobs from Hange and Connie could be heard if we were paying close attention. Jean and Levi glared at Eren, who had not deigned to lift his head at any time.
I got up as best I could, running Hange's hands gently, and left the room once again. I needed to be alone for a while, I needed to let go of these horrible feelings, I needed some air, otherwise I doubted I’d do anything rational in the state I was in.
My legs led me to a room away from all the common ones. It was empty, but it had a couple of windows that chilled the already cold metal walls. Some windows were at my height, allowing me to appreciate the view from the air, but let's face it, it was impossible to appreciate the landscape when your mind and heart were breaking to pieces. The only thing that kept my mind intact from any collapse was the path of smoke and fire that could be seen in the distance... signs that Marley was still on fire.
"Are you ok?"
That familiar voice, all too familiar, echoed in my ears pulling me out of my entrance. Eren had entered the room quietly with the aim of… what? See if it was okay? Because I really wasn't, it showed on my face and that's what made me even more angry than I was.
"Oh, I don't know? Am I ok? Do I FUCKING LOOK OK TO YOU?"
I turned from the window too quickly causing me to stagger and fall to the floor. My head was spinning and starting to ache as was every muscle in my body. I put my hands to my head, hoping the pain would dissipate a bit, but the only thing I managed was to sink further into misery.
"I could have saved her ... if I’d been faster ... I know I could have saved her"
He hadn't moved from where he was, he just stayed there, looking at me. My blood-soaked eyes looked him up and down searching for something, whatever, to speak of, but all I found were non-glare eyes and a neutral gaze, as if he hadn't cared how many lives this mission had claimed.
"Do you want to know how I feel? Fine, I’ll tell you"
I stood up heavily, my muscles begging for a break. I turned my head to see the black smoke rising on the horizon, still clearly noticing an orange and red flare.
“I am tired…I am full of rage and hate. I saw our comrades die and I couldn't do anything, I was unable to save them ... to save Sasha...and all because of not having been informed like everyone else"
My eyes hadn't left the window because I knew, if I looked into those dull turquoise eyes, those same eyes that once shone with all the innocence and life that a young man could have, I would end up punching him.
"Are you happy? Did you accomplished your mission now that you have the power of the warhammer titan? What will be the next step? Go back to Marley in a few months, finish what you started and devour the jaw titan and Reiner? Assassinate the cart titan?”
Again, I got no response. My patience had already reached it’s limit and I looked back at the man who was now standing in the middle of the room.
"You're not going to tell me, are you? No, you never say anything to me, it's like I'm a burden to you" I shuffled on the metal, standing right in front of him "I'm with so much anger in my veins that I want to kill a child, a child Eren! ... A child who had her head washed all her life, a child who doesn’t know the whole truth and who only knows that by killing she can be free"
Unconsciously, my body moved everywhere, as if it wanted to release all the pressure by tiring the muscles. I stood back in front of the window and with all the accumulated anger I gave it a strong blow, slightly scratching the glass and probably breaking some knuckles.
"Sasha died because of my incompetence and the violence of this world...I want to save lives Eren, that's why I'm practicing medicine...I want to dedicate myself to saving souls, not killing them...and we have the culprit stuck in one of our rooms...why?" ...
“WHY DO WE HAVE TWO CHILDS ON OUR AIRPLANE? WHY IS YOUR BROTHER WITH US? WHY DON'T YOU LET ME KNOW WHAT IS GOING THROUGH YOUR HEAD?"
I was sure that my screams could be heard by our entire war machine. I was impatient for answers, but knew I wasn't going to get any, at least not now. My hands didn’t remain calm, they moved everywhere, a sign of my anxiety and my eyes turned around the entire room, looking at each screw, each metal beam... everything except the eyes of my supposed lover.
I was giving up, now I just wanted to rest and have a trip home in peace, even knowing that home was not going to sound the same or feel the same.
"If you have nothing to say Eren, you better leave"
I turned my back on him but didn't proceed to walk away from him. I needed to find an anchor point so as not to give up and throw myself into the arms that one day gave me warmth, the arms that wrapped me in the dark, the arms that reflected their love and affection ... into the arms that now wouldn't hold me from the waist or draw me to his chest. I wasn't going to throw me into some arms that weren't going to contain me.
I heard him take a few small steps towards me and his hand rested lightly on my shoulder. I put it aside abruptly and I distanced myself towards the remote window, seeing how little by little the smoke was getting smaller and I could no longer see the orange flame clearly; now I could only see a thin yellow line fading.
"Leave Eren"
His footsteps rumbled on the metal floor, leaving me alone once and for all.
The trip back was going to be a long one and, to be honest, I wasn't sure if there was anything for me in our home. Nothing was going to be the same anymore. Without Sasha, without Eren and with a war on our feet I doubted to even call “home” a piece of wet land in the middle of an ocean which is still the target of a world full of hate.
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dr3amofagame · 3 years
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more of the mutually assured destruction duo, post-prison this time! this one was really fun, thinking about what this dynamic might be like in the future gives me SO much brainrot, im so excited. this one’s also a little dark, so make sure to read the warnings + tags !! :D 
tw: implied prison abuse, starvation, toxic relationship, touch starvation, manipulation, panic attack, trauma, blood, injury
Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison.
And it's ironic, because Wilbur hasn't even been around, has been in hell for fuck's sake playing Competitive Solitaire for nine-odd years, but even he could've seen the self-destruction hanging like a cloud around the other's head from a million miles (and several months? years?) away. Perhaps, he thinks wryly, you can only see the signs when you've lived them, or maybe red flags don't raise alarm when you’ve painted the entire figure in blood, but it doesn't really matter, in the end, because the final result is the same.
Still, it's just a little funny when he's stopped in the middle of his journey through the Nether, not a piece of armor on him per usual and an unused netherite sword slung over his hip.
"Hello, Sapnap." The kid is standing in front of him, eyes gleaming in badly-hidden anger and desperation, smoke rising from the mottled red-black skin on his hands. "Fancy seeing you around."
"You-" Sapnap sputters, unable to speak as his face flushes red in frustration, and Wilbur smiles at him condescendingly. The expression on the other's face is one he's seen before - one Tommy had been particularly inclined to give him in the past, when his emotions raged so heavily that there was nothing for the pressure to do but build, too thick and heavy to force themselves out of his throat. "You're monsters," Sapnap manages, finally, and Wilbur quirks an eyebrow.
At least we're self-aware, he thinks, the all-too-familiar twinge of irritation at Tommy's - and apparently, Sapnap's particular brand of reckless naivety pulsing at the base of his skull. He lets none of these thoughts show on his face as he cocks his head to the side, smiles wider - and Sapnap, just like Tommy, takes the bait.
'Why are you smiling?" He looks achingly young - they all do, really, their expressions and reactions dripping with a sort of innocence and sincerity that dissolved from Wilbur's own face somewhere around the fifteen-hundreth game of poker, and it really does feel ironic, how quickly the outside world can fall apart compared to the unending constancy of the void - but he digresses.
He didn't know Sapnap well before his whole death thing, and as much as he wants to use his partner to get information on the other members of the server, he doesn't really think Dream is really even lucid enough for that - the man clearly hasn't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. It doesn't matter, though, because you learn to read people when your life becomes nothing but running the same broken-edged memories over and over again in your mind and smiling jaggedly over the same few card games - Wilbur had always been a people watcher, and Sapnap's feelings are stamped on every corner of his face.
"Monster, huh," he says, saying the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he's tasting it for the first time, watching from the corner of his eye as Sapnap squirms, "Interesting word you've got here. You use it often?"
Sapnap bristles, smoke curling from his nostrils - "It's what you are, dickhead."
Rolling his eyes internally, Wilbur keeps up the act, humming as he fiddles idly with his cufflink. "I mean, if you really believe that," he rocks forward on his right foot, stifling a smile at the way the younger draws back, "But really, it's all a matter of perspective." He twists himself around, pivoting around his heel, beginning to walk in an arc around Sapnap's left side, watching as he spins around, shoulders drawn up to his ears. "What do you think?"
"I think that you're full of shit," he says, voice flat, and Wilbur laughs. It's genuine, really, because well - Sapnap's different. He's fun; the entire server is, after so long in the void. You can only spend so much time with the same two people before they drive you a little up the metaphorical wall, but Sapnap's reactions are fresh and new and different, still saturated with vitality that hasn’t been leached out by the same deck of cards in the same scarred hands shuffled and reshuffled for eternity. He's interesting, and new, and most of all, predictable.
"Say, Sapnap," he continues, blowing over the other's anger, knowing that it'll only make the frustration build more. He lets his hair flop lazily over one eye, lets his smile grow wider, lips pressed together in amusement, turns his face so that it's lit eerily by the lava lake beneath them. "If we're monsters for, I don't know, setting off a few stacks of TNT," he waves his hand flippantly, watching the muscle of the other's jaw jump in poorly-hidden rage, "What does that make you for what you did to Dream?"
Sapnap's eyes go wide, and Wilbur knows he's struck the jackpot. He lets his lips part to reveal bared teeth, jagged and glinting in the light. "I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?"
The kid's mouth opens- closes- emotions warring on his face, fists curling and uncurling at his sides, lip trembling. "We- we had to-" his hands come to his face, palms digging into his eyes, and while he's not looking, Wilbur draws his expression back a bit, becoming softer, more welcoming. When Sapnap looks back up, his eyes are shining, hands shaking still; he steps forward, then rocks back on his back foot like he doesn't know where to go. "What do you mean?" he throws the words like they're meant to be a threat, but by the end his voice has devolved into something high-pitched and keening, overflowing with desperate grief that Wilbur latches onto like a starving man (ha) with his last meal.
"I'm sorry, it does seem rather insensitive for me to assume," he resumes pacing around the other, voice lilting, soft, "I just mean, it seemed pretty obvious, don't you think? I don't think I've ever seen someone so skinny, really, but I guess that is what happens when you get starved,"
"Shut up-"
"Not to mention the whole panicking thing, I mean, he's like Tommy sometimes with all of the fucking shaky breathing and mumbling around like creepers, not that I'd know what all of that's about," he watches Sapnap through half-hooded eyes, darkly amused, "and pickaxes, oddly enough, but oh well. Who am I to judge?"
"Shut up-"
"And all of the scars - I thought they were from you, honestly, he told me about the whole 'taking his last life' thing, but then he jumped into lava one day - I guess there wasn't much to do in that cell, huh? He didn't even scream, it's really pretty fucking incredible - I thought I'd actually have to break him down a bit, but really, you've made my life so much easier-"
"SHUT UP-"
Wilbur watches with a too-wide grin as Sapnap finally, finally charges, a netherite sword appearing in his hand as he races blindly ahead, tears shining on his cheeks, his words more pain than thought as he brings the blade down-
A blur of purple, the sound of crumbling netherrack and metal meeting metal, flesh hitting flesh - Wilbur moves smoothly out of the way as Sapnap crashes to the ground, an armored figure bearing down an axe against the shield he's raised between them.
Dream, hair tangled and long, wearing armor that is far too heavy for his skinny frame, every inch of him shaking in panic, should hardly be a threat - but this is Sapnap, weakened by Wilbur's sharp words and crippled by the shock of seeing his former best friend's face again, eyes still unfocused from the rage and tears that had clouded over them moments before, so he can do little but raise his shield as the netherite slams into it, again and again. Not a word falls from Dream's lips, but he brings down the weapon at a ruthless pace - ever since he's been free, his attack style has changed greatly from the defensive style he used to favor, even to Wilbur's untrained eye - there's no skill, no art to the way he attacks anymore, just the fearful ferocity of a dog trapped in a cage for far, far too long.
He finally kicks Sapnap down the netherrack cliff that they're on, the other man left to nurse his wounds below them - Wilbur doesn't bother sparing him another thought; Dream's far too weak to cause any permanent damage. Instead, he approaches his partner, weapon, with a smile, watching, satisfied, when he whirls around with a manic expression.
"I'm alright, see?" he croons as Dream's shoulders move up and down with his heaving breaths, eyes fever-bright, teeth bared. He brings a hand down on the other's shoulder and watches as he flinches at the movement, breath hitching, every muscle freezing, knuckles pale on the handle of his axe, before moving again, stumbling forwards, hands reaching for Wilbur's head and stopping halfway. Wilbur tips his head forward, lets the shorter brush his face with trembling fingers, checking his unmarred skin for blood through the purpling bruises already forming on his cheek, and thinks how powerful he is to have a god at his beck and call, a perfect attack dog brought to heel, death itself obediently at his side.
Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison, and as Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the way his spine arches at the touch, at the fluttering pulse under the skin-and-bone wrist under his fingers, he thinks how fortunate he is to be the first to notice.
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tomurasprincess · 4 years
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A Caged Dove Part 1 (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)
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Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not. 
Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: T+ for this chapter, but E+ for future ones. Chapter Warnings: Yandere themes, obsession, suggestion of forced marriage Series Warnings:  noncon, dubcon, breeding, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stalking, yandere Word Count: 2k+ Note: My entry for @bnhabookclub event! Fairy tale AU (although more Grimm than Disney.) I am extremely excited to be doing something for this, and for joining the Discord soon. This idea really struck my muse until I decided to give it a shot, and it blossomed into a multi-chapter fic. I hope you guys like it! Thank You: To @thewheezingwyvern, who discussed this idea with me for hours and then screeched at me for hours more to woman up and actually do it. You only had to screech an average of 9 times before I started, so this is a new record. @jojosmilktea, thank you for making the gorgeous banner for me! I am but a humble peasant compared to your banner making, and must bow to the queen. 
One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Finale)
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so nervous before, standing outside the throne room of the royal Todoroki family. You had received a missive just a few days ago, summoning you immediately to the castle for an audience with Prince Todoroki himself, heir to the throne of the kingdom.
It was not often that someone of your class had an audience with the Crown Prince, so although you have received a full education and are quite knowledgeable in matters of the Court, you cannot help but be nervous nevertheless. An occasion like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, something that can make or break a noble family, especially one of the lesser noble families such as yours.
You fuss with your outfit one more time, trying to look your best and distract yourself when the doors finally open. One of the royal guards walks out from the throne room and motions you forward. “This way, Princess. His Royal Highness is ready to see you.”
You give a quick nod and begin to walk through the doors to the throne room, your bodyguard trailing behind you, when you hear the royal guard speak up.
“You have been instructed to see His Royal Highness without bodyguards, Princess.”
You pause for a second before glancing over to your bodyguard who gives you an imperceptible shake of the head, indicating that he does not want you to go alone. You wave him off and continue to the throne room. You’re in the heart of the royal palace, you think to yourself, you will be fine.
As you enter the huge double doors to the throne room, what you see in there almost stops you in your tracks. The splendor and beauty of this room is like nothing you have ever seen before. The room itself is huge, with tall ceilings that stretch up to beautiful domes. Statues of previous rules line the walls which are inlaid with what looks like pure gold.
And at the end of the room, sitting in a massive throne, sits Prince Shouto Todoroki himself. You have never seen him in person before, and you realize the gossip of his beauty were not exaggerated. His hair is two toned, cut down the middle with one side being white and one side being red. His eyes are the same, the piercing nature of them staring into what feels like your very soul.
He does not take his eyes off of you the entire time it takes you to walk to his throne, leaving you to feel off balance at the intensity you find in them. You barely remember to drop your gaze, the weight of them almost too hard to look away from.
You finally make it to the throne, stopping a respectable length away from him and falling into a deep curtsy to show your respect. As you bring yourself upright, you wait for him to say the first words.
“Ah, I am very glad that you could make it, Princess. I hope you had a pleasant journey.” Well of course I made it, you think, I had no choice but to answer the Crown Prince’s summon.
You push the thought down and give a gracious nod. “Of course, I am honored to meet you, Your Highness.”
“I was informed that your parents were called away on urgent business, and as such, could not make it today.”
“That is correct, Your Highness, which is why I was sent in their place as ambassador for our territory.” You are momentarily surprised he knows this information so quickly, but you suppose it makes sense for the royal family to be so well connected.
“I remember meeting with them several times while checking on the state of the country with my parents. They seemed like very kind people. I do hope it is nothing serious.”
You remember this occasion well. Your territory is important, but still minor in comparison to the royal family. A visit from them was a huge deal, and there had been preparation done for months before they ever arrived. You met Prince Shouto there very briefly, and it was an encounter you never forgot. He seemed like the very picture of the perfect prince, and you admit to having an almost schoolgirl crush on him.
“Ah, but I am sure you want me to get to the point. You must be concerned as to why you were summoned here today.”
You consider denying that you are nervous, but you think better of lying. “I will admit that I am a little nervous, yes. Someone of my rank is not often summoned by the Crown Prince.”
“Of your rank? You do not give yourself enough credit.” He gives you a small smile. “I have summoned you here for a proposal, after all.”
A proposal? Your heart drops into your stomach as you hear the word proposal. Surely he doesn’t mean…? But it is confirmed by his next sentence, as he sees the confusion on your face.
“Yes, that kind of proposal,” he chuckles, “I am sure you have heard the rumors that I am seeking a wife.”
You had, in fact, heard the rumors. But you had written it off as just that, rumors. Or, even if it was more than that, something that ultimately did not concern you or your family. There were far more suitable matches for the heir to the throne, after all.
The Todoroki family ruled the country with a fair hand and were well loved by everyone, and as such, were constantly called to mediate over disputes and enforce laws. The best match for the Crown Prince would have been one of the more troubled territories, perhaps even another country. Something that would help secure more alliances for the country.
“I don’t -- I’m not sure I understand,” you trail off, before remembering yourself at the last minute, “Your Highness.”  
If he notices your almost slip up, he says nothing and simply continues. “Did your parents not mention it to you?”
You quickly shake your head. “Mention what, your Highness?”
“I requested permission to court your hand in marriage, and your parents agreed.”
The shock of such a casual statement has you reeling. Why would he be courting you, and furthermore, why would your parents have agreed? They were nobility, yes, but they were simple people who were content with their lot in life. They never would have wanted you thrown into the atmosphere of court life.
“But why wouldn’t they mention anything to me about this, my lord?”
You realize belatedly that you did not address him correctly, and a rush of embarrassment hits you at losing your manners in such a way. You worry that you’re going to be kicked out of the castle in disgrace at this rate.
But he simply gives you a smile and ignores your faux pas, a smile that should put you at ease but instead simply makes you feel on edge. You’re being ridiculous, you think to yourself, he is from a family of kind hearted and fair people. Nothing is going to happen to you besides a little social embarrassment.
“One of your retainers mentioned they had been called out with little notice, correct? I imagine they were about to tell you, but the emergency caused them to forget in their haste to deal with the situation.”
His voice and words are reasonable, but something about this situation seems off. Your parents are not forgetful, and are known as some of the most reliable in the country. This level of emergency was unusual as well, for both of your parents to be away at the same time. You were not generally left alone to deal with the ruling of your territory. And then to be summoned by the Crown Prince himself, with a marriage proposal at that...all of your noble training has your instincts screaming at you.
But your noble training also demands that you not bring up any of this to your superiors. “Of course, Your Highness,” you say as you curtsy a bit, “that sounds very possible.”
“Then you will accept?” He is obviously asking a question, but his tone says otherwise, the iron in his voice making it obvious that there is only one correct answer to this question.
“This is all happening very fast, Your Highness,” you desperately try to reason, “may I have enough time to think it over?” You are being thrown into a situation that you are not prepared to handle, and if you could only delay things just a bit until your parents got back, then things can still go okay.
“No, you may not.” But your hope is instantly dashed. “You will give me your answer before you leave this room.” This time, it’s not even phrased as a question. A sliver of fear slides up your spine at the way he’s acting, at all of the breaches of formality that he’s abandoning. There is something horribly wrong here, and yet nothing you can do about it.
“I am not asking you to marry me tomorrow. Simply consent to allow me to court you.” He stands up from his throne at this as he begins to walk towards you. You’re aware of just how tall he is as he moves towards you, until he’s standing far too close for propriety's sake.  
“I - I just,” you stammer a bit, cringing internally at the breach of your own sense of formality that is now occurring. But everything about this meeting is not normal, and you have been thrown off balance too much to respond quickly. “I apologize for my manners. Of course I consent, Your Highness.”
You find yourself staring into those deep, heterochromatic eyes, not wanting to look away but knowing that you have to. When you finally find the strength, he grabs you by the chin, his hand being far too cool against your heated skin. Shock runs through your system as you’re forced to meet the eyes of Prince Shouto, who is staring at you with an emotion that you just can’t seem to place no matter how hard you try.
“Since I’m going to be courting you, Princess,” he whispers to you as he trails a finger down your jawline, “why don’t we just skip formalities? Call me Prince Shouto.”
Your eyes widen at the implication of calling him that, something that only family may call the heir to the throne. He wants this to already be a done deal, but there has to be some way to still get out of this. The Royal Todoroki family would never force anyone into marriage. You just need to play along a little longer until you can think of a way out of this.
“Of course, Prince Shouto,” you say, and you watch his face light up. He looks almost boyish when he smiles, no longer quite the severe prince that he truly is, and for a second you feel glad at putting that smile on his face as you remember the meeting with him years ago. But you come back to the reality of the situation quickly and scold yourself for behaving like a doey eyed schoolgirl.
“Then it’s settled,” he steps back from you, although he looks reluctant to do so. “I have prepared you a room in the south wing of the castle, and you will have attendants waiting there to take care of any need you may have. Someone will pick up tomorrow at brunch, and I expect you to be ready.”
“What do you want me ready for,” you ask cautiously.
“I wish to show you around the castle, of course. If this is to be your home, then you need to familiarize yourself with it. And it will be a good way for us to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”
“Then I’ll be ready, my --- Prince Shouto,” you instantly correct yourself at the last minute. But his smile widens when he hears you say “my prince,” like it pleases him. He gives a quick nod and a gesture at the door to indicate that you are free to go. But as you turn away to walk to the door, you miss the way his smile turns victorious, a dark chuckle rising from his chest as he sits back down on his throne.
~~~~
Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re, @dee-madwriter, @lildreamer93, @katsukisprincess, @yaoyorozuwrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @oktamaki
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jamespotterthefirst · 3 years
Text
Five Birthdays (Ethan x f!MC)
Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.4K Warning: Implied adult situations  Premise: Ethan’s birthdays with her in the next five years. 
Author’s Note: A birthday fic that I wrote a while ago and wanted to post on my birthday. Dedicated to @perriewinklenerdie , @scorpiochick8 , and all the beautiful Scorpios out there. November babies, this is for you too! Thank you @aestheticartsx​ for reading through this mess! Hope you like it. 
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Year One 
A soft knock pulled Ethan away from his latest patient chart. Interruptions were always a source of irritation but tonight he almost welcomed it. His body ached with exhaustion and his eyelids were heavy after the sixteen hour day. 
The door opened to reveal Dr. Allende, looking uncharacteristically bashful as she entered, hands behind her back. 
“What can I do for you?” he asked, his attention falling quickly to the chart. This he only did as an excuse to glance away because she was biting her bottom lip the way she did when nervous. It was a quirk that always drove him to distraction. 
She said nothing as she approached, and Ethan could see in his peripheral that she did so cautiously. After a small pause, she set a tall to-go cup of coffee on the desk in front of him, successfully getting his attention. 
“I brought you coffee,” she said by way of explanation. She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it immediately, looking uncharacteristically flustered and even a little anxious. She tried again, “The Vienna. From the coffee house you took me to a few weeks ago.”
Ethan removed his spectacles, staring at the cup. “I can see that. Though I commend you on the choice, I am still uncertain why you went through the trouble.”
The pretty intern flushed, looking prettier still, much to Ethan's frustration. 
“I didn't know what else you liked. And I wanted to get you something.” 
Ethan's confusion lasted only a second before realization sunk in. His stomach dropped and he all but groaned. For some reason, this seemed to ease some of her tension. She even looked a tad bit amused. 
“Who told you?” 
“Dr. Banerji,” she responded, not surprising Ethan in the least. “He let it slip while I was drawing blood for that full work up you ordered.”
Ethan huffed, sincerely doubting the old man had let the detail slip accidentally. 
“Happy birthday,” she added and this time, the amusement was undeniable in her voice. 
“You can't tell anyone,” he implored, feeling his face grow hotter by the second. He shuddered to think of the fuss people in the hospital would make if they knew, particularly the nursing staff. “I've worked too hard these past years to keep that a secret. Trust me, it's not an easy feat when Marlene is in charge of the birthday board.”
Lilac laughed, the sound so pleasant he almost forgot to be mortified. “Imagine the parties they'd throw in your honor, Dr. Ramsey. I don't think I can rob everyone of such a good time.” 
“Lilac.”
More laughter. “I won't tell a soul,” she said solemnly. Ethan was still unconvinced and she rolled her eyes. “Just drink your coffee, Ron Swanson.”
___________________________________
Year Two 
Lilac glanced around with interest, pressing her clipboard tightly against her chest. Ethan almost snorted at her feigned attempt to seem invested. There was nothing particularly interesting about the supply closet they both occupied. 
“Interesting choice, Doctor,” she commented anyway, sounding thoroughly amused. 
“I didn't think you'd mind meeting here,” he returned, feeling emboldened enough to flirt with the pretty young resident before him. He had already pulled her into a supply closet with the enthusiasm of an intern. Ethan might as well enjoy the full thrill of breaking the rules. “If you have moral qualms, however, just say the word and we can both go back to work.”
Lilac proved she had no complaints by closing the already small space between them and kissing him fully. The clipboard clattered to the floor as her hands slid up his shoulders and clung around his neck. Ethan responded in kind, his hands settling on the dip of her waist, his lips eagerly moving against hers. 
She hissed a little as their kiss went from passionate to desperate, hands, lips, and teeth tugging at one another. These days, it only took a matter of seconds to reach that level, both growing needier by the day.
“I didn't take you for the type to make out in a supply closet,” she said breathlessly when they finally pulled apart. 
“Honestly? The idea seemed juvenile until I started making out with you.” He gave her a half smile that made her eyes linger on his lips. “I've been thinking of nothing else ever since we broke into Mass Kenmore.”
Ever since that event, he'd had several detailed fantasies that included Lilac in a supply closet with him, but he decided not to disclose them as the majority were irrefutably not safe for work. Then again, the way she pressed her body flush against his, her rosy lips trailing kisses along his jaw, was anything but appropriate for the workplace. 
“Whatever the birthday boy wants, the birthday boy gets.” 
Ethan involuntarily shuddered at the word birthday, which in turn made her pull away in laughter. 
“No one is going to hear us here. You picked the supply closet in a construction zone that no one is allowed to be in.”
She was taunting him but Ethan didn't mind. If anything, he concluded that two could play at the game. With a devilish, lopsided smile that caught her attention again he said in a dangerous, low whisper, “I just thought you'd want to scream my name without the whole hospital hearing you.”
The surprised look that turned lustful in seconds sent a thrill of satisfaction through Ethan. He claimed her lips again without restraint, successfully opening the buttons of her blouse before him. There was no time to admire the black lace that left little to the imagination, when his pager demanded his attention. 
He groaned but fixed his clothes and hair at once. When he was presentable once again, Ethan paused to give her one last, longing look. A familiar, mournful feeling settled in his stomach as another clandestine encounter came to an end. 
Her responding smile was understanding, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. At this point, he was certain that she did. 
“Happy birthday,” she murmured, lifting herself to press a sweet, tender kiss to his cheek. 
Not for the first time, he wished for nothing more than to be able to kiss her whenever, however he wanted, no matter who saw. 
___________________________________
Year Three
Ethan pressed her against the wall, escalating their usual goodbye kiss after a long day at the hospital. Though a little surprised at first, Lilac quickly recovered and kissed him back just as eagerly. When they broke the kiss for breath, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity. 
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”
Ethan shrugged, the pad of his thumb trailing the faint freckles on her cheeks. The truth was now that he could finally kiss her without needing a reason to and without caring who was around, he couldn't seem to stop. 
In this particular instance, it was Naveen who entered the office, clearing his throat meaningfully. They didn't spring apart from one another as they used to, pretending (rather poorly) that they were only colleagues. Instead, they remained in each other's arms as they looked at the Chief. The older man did not seem to mind one bit for he watched them with a warm, proud smile. 
“Ready for our meeting with the Board, Ethan?” 
“No.” 
Naveen chuckled good-naturedly. “It'll be a short one. I'll make sure of it lest Dr. Allende hates me for making her finance work late on his birthday.”
It did not go unnoticed by everyone that Ethan didn't exactly have a visceral reaction to the word, unlike the past years. Naveen shot him a fatherly smile and Lilac pressed a loving, chaste kiss on his cheek. 
“I'll wait for you at home.” She waited until the Chief was out of the room to whisper in Ethan's ear, “I have a surprise for you.”
The heady promise stole his attention for the rest of the evening, which was a good thing because the meeting was as useless as he had expected. An hour and a half later, he discovered he was right in rushing home to Lilac. 
She was waiting for him in the living, perched on the backrest of the love seat and clad in the shortest silk robe he had ever seen. Her shapely legs were exposed for his viewing pleasure, save for the sheer, black stockings ending with lace at her thighs. The echo of her previous promise adorned everything from her coy smile to the scandalous patch of lace peeking from the neckline of her robe. 
“Took you long enough,” she teased in a breathy sort of voice that had an instant effect on him. 
She hopped off the sofa, walking toward the dining room, hips swaying with each step. On any regular day, the sight would have been enough inspiration to tease her until she begged him to take her on any given surface of their apartment. In her current attire, he wished to pin her against the wall with primal urgency in ten seconds or less. 
“I ordered us food from—” 
 In one quick stride, he spun her around, his mouth devouring hers in a scorching kiss. Lilac matched his passion, her silk-clad body melting deliciously against his, her arms locking around his neck. 
“Happy birthday,” she moaned as he ran his tongue down her neck and into the exposed valley of her breasts. 
Ethan had never been happier. 
Not only because he was currently peeling the flimsy robe off with his teeth, revealing a lacy black number underneath, but also because of the three words that left her lips, as natural and wondrous as the beautiful sunset through the window.
“I love you.”
He could never tire of hearing them. 
___________________________________
Year Four
Ethan awoke to soft, lazy kisses and a curtain of dark hair enveloping them both. When she straightened with a tired smile, he missed the floral scent of her shampoo at once. He groaned in protest and pulled her body against his for another quick kiss, cutting the small shriek of surprise short. 
“Good morning,” he greeted between slow, delicious sips of her mouth. 
“Good morning indeed,” she sighed in return. At last, when they fully pulled apart, she picked up a tray from the nightstand and set it on his lap. “Happy birthday! I made you pancakes. ” 
He took in the pretty array before him, complete with coffee and a small vase of red carnations. Ethan flashed her a grateful grin, not missing the dark circles under her eyes or the exhausted sigh that escaped her as her head sank into the pillows. 
“Is that what was burning earlier?” 
Lilac laughed dryly, eyes shut. “Laugh all you want, Ramsey, but at least I can actually make them.” 
“Touché.”
He savored her offerings in silence, admiring how her cooking had improved dramatically in her years with him. Lilac continued to rest against the pillows, looking so blissful, he couldn't help but smile. Within minutes, her muscles relaxed and her breathing became more even as she drifted into sleep. 
The crackle of the speaker on their bedside startled her awake. If that hadn't done it, then the wailing that soon followed would have done it. “He's awake,” she mumbled, already moving to sit up. 
Ethan placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, easing her back into the pillows. “I'll go.”
His son's crying subsided as soon as Ethan scooped him up and swayed him gently. He grinned down at his three-month-old, unable to contain the warm pride expanding in his chest.
“Good morning. You're up early after keeping us up for most of the night,” he murmured, kissing his tiny forehead. Ethan would give up all his hours of sleep if it meant holding his perfect son in his arms. 
By the time they returned to the bedroom, Lilac was sound asleep, face buried unceremoniously  in the pillows. Ethan smiled fondly at his wife, making a mental note to lovingly tease her about the snoring later. Quietly, he settled in bed next to her, carefully setting Jonah facedown on his chest. 
Lilac mumbled something incomprehensible, sleepily burrowing into his arm. Jonah, meanwhile, drifted off into an easy sleep against his father's chest. Ethan smiled broadly, the gesture coming much more naturally than in past years, as he enjoyed a quiet morning with his perfect little family. 
___________________________________
Year Five
“Happy birthday!” his wife exclaimed. Ethan wasn't sure what his toddler son had shrieked out. All he knew was that he matched his mother's enthusiasm as they presented the small, thickly frosted cake on the counter. 
Ethan raised his brows at the creation before him. “You two made this just for me?”
Lilac beamed. “Yep, just Jonah and I.”
The slight pitch in her voice made Ethan chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. One of you barely has the fine motor skills needed to operate in a kitchen.”
“Cachen!” Jonah exclaimed, claiming his father's attention. Ethan bent down and kissed the top of his head. 
“And the other is a one year old toddler,” Ethan finished, earning him an adorable glare from his wife. 
“You think you're so funny, Ramsey.”
“I know I am, Allende.”
“That’s Allende-Ramsey to you.” Without warning, she scooped up a dollop of frosting and smeared it on Ethan's mouth. 
Unfazed, Ethan licked off the excess before pulling her into a kiss. Lilac laughed against his sugar coated lips while Jonah shrieked with happiness, forcing them to pull apart. 
“Either way, thank you for making this for me,” he said, gesturing toward the now marred cake. 
“Antsina!” 
Ethan glanced at his son curiously. “What is he saying?”
Lilac, meanwhile, shook her head comically at their son. 
“Ant sina!” the baby repeated, his short arms outstretched towards the cake. 
“Aunt Sienna?” Ethan guessed with a small laugh, looking at his wife. “Sienna helped you with this, didn’t she?” 
Lilac seemed abashed, looking as though she had half a mind to deny it. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, however, and with a small laugh she said, “I didn’t think my baby would give me away, but yes.” At her husband’s smug smile, she added, “But Jonah and I helped! Jonah tasted the frosting and I helped with the batter.”
Her smile turned sheepish as she thought of something and added, “Actually, your daughter may have helped with that too. This makes for the perfect bowl stand.” Her hands lovingly caressed her very pregnant belly. 
Ethan leaned in to kiss it and Jonah, always mimicking his father, leaned in to do the same. Both parents laughed, kissing their son in turn. 
“Make a wish,” Lilac instructed as she lit the candles. 
A knot formed in his throat as Ethan considered there was no need for that. In the past five years, he had been fortunate enough to find everything he could ever want.
___________________________________
Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! I love you all <3
Also, I have hit a major writer’s block when concerning Part 2 of the Miami chapter in the Picta series. Slowly but surely, I am getting there. Thank you for being so patient! 
Finally, if you asked me to add you to the tag list and I haven’t, please message me. I am so disorganized and forgetful. I’m so sorry!
___________________________________
tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo​ , @trappedinfanfiction​, @aestheticartsx​, @aworldoffandoms​, @paulfwesley​, @myusualnerdyself​,  @rookie-ramsey​, @ohchoices​, @colossalpainintheass​, @enmchoices​, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​, @choicesfanaf​, @openheartthot​, @octobereighth​, @nazarihoe​, @utterlyinevitable​, @kites-in-our-skies​, @maurine07​, @schnitzelbutterfingers​, @doilooklikeiknow​, @snesdudes​, @kingliam2019​, @perriewinklenerdie​, @cinnamonspongecake​, @choicesstan1​, @queencarb​, @ethxnrxmsey​, @missmiimiie​, @jens-diamondchoices​, @adamsdumortain​, @apphia12​, @kalogh​, @lucy-268​, @binny1985​, @queenbirbs​, @honeyandsunfl0wers​, @newcolonies​, @lilyvalentine​, @rigatonireid​, @interobanginyourmom​, @parkerattano​, @custaroonie​, @nikki-2406​, @lilypills​, @chasingrobbie​, @nooruleman​,  @lonely-mxxnlight​, @ruinedbypixels​, @shadynaturehilariouscookie​, @tsrookie​, @mvalentine​, @professorkingslay​, @drakewalkerfantasy​, @casey-v​, @helloblueeyedcat​, @mysticaurathings​, @blossomanarchy​, @thegreentwin​, @togetherwearerapture​, @rookieoh​, @ramseysno1rookie, @rookiemarsswiftie​, @natashajaniphil​, @mysticalgalaxysstuff​, @hatescapsicum​, @choices-lurker​, @kiara-36​, @junehiratas​, @danijimenezv​, @macy-ray85​, @adrex04​, @canigetanawwjunk​, @sanchita012​, @overwhelminglyaquarius​ , @scorpiochick8​, @skylarklyon​, @starrystarrytrouble​, @mercury84choices​, @drariellevalentine​, @ethanrcmsey​, @lion-ess24, @aarisa-frost​, @kaavyaethanramsey​ , @udishaman​, @a-crepusculo​, @quacksonlover​,
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rk1kheadcanons · 3 years
Note
Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is
You would never know Markus was drunk.
He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.
What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.
Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.
Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.
And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.
It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.
“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”
The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”
Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”
“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”
“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.
“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”
North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”
“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.
“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”
“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”
“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”
“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.
North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”
Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.
“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”
“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”
“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”
North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”
Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”
‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances
“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”
“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”
“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”
“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”
“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”
‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.
Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.
If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.
“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”
“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”
“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.
“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.
“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”
“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.
“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”
North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”
So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”
“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”
“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”
Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”
Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”
“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”
Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.
“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”
“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.
“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.
“It’s Sixty.”
Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”
“Why are you booing me I’m right!”
“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.
Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.
“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.
Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.
“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”
“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”
“He fits the criteria.”
“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”
“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”
As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.
And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.
‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’
Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”
Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.
Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.
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stressedoutcanary · 3 years
Text
Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 3]
What this includes: Violence, a combo of angst and fluff, and just to be on the safe side I’d say language.
Word count: 3.1k
A/N😋: I am so glad it’s finally finished, now it won’t be sitting in my drafts staring at me all day. Also forgive me for any mistakes, half of it is written at 3 AM
Part 1 , Part 2
•°•°•°•°
“This is it”, you breathed out, stopping your bike near a bush making sure that place was obscure enough. You placed the helmet on the handle and hopped off the bike. After taking a few steps forward and scouting the area, you clicked your comms back on.
“O care to give me the layout of what I am getting myself into, ‘cause we all know the last time didn’t go so well”
“Nightwing said you might call me for backup and now I owe him 20 uggh! Anyways onto the problem at hand, I’m picking up a few heat signatures from the basement area and the schematics of the building indicate a vent on the other side which might help you get in.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
There was no reply on the other end and you assumed she was looking into it. To your bad luck, it was far from it. You heard an all too familiar grunt and mentally cursed yourself for forgetting that it was an open line.
“(Y/N), I thought I made myself clear”, Bruce’s modulated voice came through which low-key made you want to strangle him with your bare hands.
“Oh come on B! Didn’t Alfred teach you that listening in on other people’s conversations is bad manners”
“We are 10 minutes out you will not be going in till we get there”
‘Like Hell I won’t’
“Hello? B? Your voice is breaking up. I can’t hear you! there is some interference in the signal. Batman?”
“Don’t- ” you clicked the comms off before he could finish his sentence and breathed a sigh of relief. ”Note to self after what you just did, avoid showing your face to anyone in the fam for at least a week.”
Snooping around, you came across the vent Babs told you about and you smirked to yourself, “Bless those idiots who decided to make an excess amount of vents throughout Gotham, plus no dumbass to shoot open the lock on any door, huh I’d say it’s going pretty good for me.”
After going through a very, very dusty vent, you silently dropped down to floor behind a goon and cleared your throat to draw his attention. As soon as he turned around, his jaw was met with your right hook, making him plummet to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar you inched closer to his face, which was yet again fully covered by a white mask.
“Alright no-face, tell me where Pyg is right now”, you made use of your deep modulated voice, making the man dart his eyes towards the far right corner of the room. You knew what that meant and without wasting any more time, you knocked him out and scurried over, finding a heavy door at the end. Somehow managing to push open the door, you were faced with a circular stairwell leading down.
“Well Oracle did say she got heat signatures down in the basement.”, you sighed and started taking calculated steps, making sure to check for any traps. ‘Why keep only one person to guard your supersecret creep-house? Either Lazlo is way too overconfident or way too crazy... Probably both.’, you thought, wheels turning in your head, hoping to make sense of the situation. As you went down, you could catch a faint sound of music. ‘Is that Opera?! Well at least it fits his M.O.’
The end of the stairwell opened into a large room. You hid behind one of wooden crates as your mind swiftly accessed the grim ambience; Pyg was sharpening his knife swaying along with opera music playing in the background but Jason was nowhere to be found. Your breath hitched and your blood ran cold, it felt as if the world around you was spinning.
‘What if... what if it’s too late’  Crouching down on the ground with your back to the crate your took in several deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t think like that, not when you’re so close. You wiped the stray tear which escaped the tightness of your cowl and had trailed down your cheek. You tried to focus instead of jumping to conclusions.
You frowned upon noticing something odd on the wall in front of you, placing your palms on it, you gave it a slight push. To your surprise it paved way for an attached corridor which clearly didn’t come up in the schematics Oracle told you about. You slipped into the corridor, making sure that nobody saw you. Your feet froze for a slight second on the sight you were met with; cages like prison cells lined up in a row with people inside of them.
“The people who went missing”, you whispered to yourself, still reeling in the shock of it all. Upon hearing a familiar groan you sprinted across the pathway to the source, eyes scanning every inch of the person you found, the person you were here to rescue. You fumbled with the lock for a while, muttering curses under your breath until it clicked open. You dashed to his side and took a batarang out to cut the binds he was in.
“Jay if you die on me again, I swear I will kill you.”
“Been there, done that princess and honestly not a fan of it”, Jason croaked out, his reply came out weaker and voice barely above a whisper. It made your heart clench in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. You lifted your head up, you gave him a soft smile, gently brushing off the matted hair on his forehead, 
“Jason I..”
‘Just tell him you love him you coward, It’s really not that hard’
“Jason I’m glad you’re okay”, you blurted out in way which was far from normal but he seemed way too tired to noticed. 
‘COWARD’
“How did you get free?”, he inquired, thankfully interrupting your internal yelling.
“I didn’t? I literally just walked in here to get you out.”
“But I thought-”, Jason looked utterly confused as he rubbed his wrists to ease the pain caused by the rope.
“Well long story short. You got captured. I was saved by Harley and Ivy, had a nice chat with them, and then I might have been responsible for Batman’s high blood pressure, and then I emotionally blackmailed Nightwing into giving me your location and then here I am”
“Wha...Yeah I will just pretend I totally understand whatever the hell you just said.”, Jason sighed, he tried to stand up but his feet wobbled and if it wasn’t for you catching him on time h would’ve staggered to the ground.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mmhmm”, he hummed lightly leaning his weight on you. “Just a little dizzy, probably from the dehydration, It could also be because of the blood loss from the stab wound I got”
“The WHAT?!”, you looked at him like he was crazy.  
“Oh yeah I think I kinda forgot to tell you that the creepy dude tried to cut me open but my armor got in the way so he stabbed me instead and went away saying he had to sharpen his knife or something like that”, he started to slur and you knew you had to get him back to the cave as quickly as possible. You helped him get up on his feet, slinging one of his arms over your shoulders and wrapping one of your arms around his waist.
“Oh my God! Jay, you don’t just bring this sort of thing up in casual conversation!”, you shook your head and started taking small steps with him towards the way you came from. Suddenly a loud crash was heard followed by a couple of screams making the both of you share a nervous glance.
“What was that?”
“Only one way to find out”, you said as you walked through the door back into the large room. 
It was pure chaos, more like a free-for-all. Nightwing jogged up to you. 
“We did say we were 10 minutes out didn’t we?”, he gave you a bright smile and swung Jason’s free arm over his shoulder to help you support him better.
“Good, now since you are here, hold him”, you shifted Jason’s weight towards Dick.
“Hey-”
“Don’t even”, he glared daggers at his elder brother, “What are you even doing? I feel like a baby being passed around”
You ignored Jason’s whining in the background and fixed your gaze on the one person in the room who would soon face your wrath. The rest had already cleared up the goons and Pyg was the only one left. You narrowed your eyes and cracked your knuckles, making your way over to him.
By the time you reached Pyg he was already backing away from Batman and one murderous looking Robin, turning around he tried to make a run for it but was ultimately met with your fist, a sickening crack was heard and no one was quite sure whether it was from his mask, his jaw or both. Pyg was out cold and you shrugged at the duo in front of you while Dick and Jason made their way over.
“Remind me never to get on her bad side ever again.”, Jason whispered as both the boys looked completely terrified of you. You walked over to Bruce and held out your hand. He didn’t seem to catch the drift, for being the world’s greatest detective, he was quite dumb sometimes.
“The keys to the batmobile, unless you want Mr. surprise-I-got-stabbed over here to bleed out.”
After placing Jason into the passenger seat you hopped into the driving one. 
“Also there are people in the back, you know, the missing ones, so good luck with the clean up I guess.”, you called out before before closing the hood of the batmobile. 
You were on the road heading straight for the cave when you realized Jason wasn’t answering your questions anymore.
“Jason?”, you stole a glance at him and he was as pale as a ghost, “Shit!”, you yelled as you jammed your foot on the accelerator. 
•°•°
Jason woke up to the dull beeping of multiple monitors and by the looks of the place, he concluded he was in fact in the batcave. As he regained some control over his senses, he saw you sitting on a chair beside his bed. You were sound asleep but he could see worry etched on your face even in your slumber. Looking at you, Jason wished he had the courage to say what his heart felt instead he just went ahead taking your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. You stirred awake at that.
“Hey! You’re up!”, you stood up abruptly and hugged him tightly. To him it felt as if you were actually afraid of what might happen if you let go of him.
“I told you I don’t do dying anymore. It sucks.”
You finally pulled away from him, a smile tugging at your lips. Jason glanced at your hand, taking it in his once again, he ran his thumb over your bruised knuckles.
“I knew you had a mean right hook, guess I just forgot how mean”, Jason said smirking at you. You didn’t pull away from him as he had expected in his head instead you just scoffed at the statement. 
“The next time you forget that, allow me to give you a reminder by demonstration Bird-Brain”, you called him by the name you often used back then. At first it was to annoy your very annoying best friend but then it stuck around but hadn’t used that nickname ever since he came back. You both realized that. A silence fell over the once playful conversation, his eyes found the celling and yours found your lap. After a while you cleared you throat to get his attention and he looked at you, his expressions were borderline unreadable.
“Jason I-I should go now, but don't worry I’ll get Alfred back here”, You got up and moved towards the door of the med-bay, scrunching your eyes shut you released a shaky breath.
‘It’s now or never (Y/N)’ 
“Jason when you get better, there is this place I have been meaning to take you to, with me of course.”
“Sure I’ll go”
“So tomorrow sounds good?”
“Tomorrow sounds good”, he repeated after you breaking into a grin. Your cheeks flushed and you had to take a sharp turn to hide the blush on your face. You mentally smacked yourself for behaving like a teen asking her crush out on a date for the first time. 
•°•°
The next night Jason met you on the roof of the Wayne tower.
“Please tell me this isn’t the place you wanted to see with me”, he chuckled behind you and you turned around to give him a quick hug.
“It’s not that bad of a place, plus I can throw you off here too if you get on my nerves”, you laughed at his faux scandalised face.
“You wound me”
“In case you forgot you are already wounded, drama queen, plus its your lucky day, this is not where we will be spending our evening. Just follow me and don’t get lost on the way”, you winked and jumped off the edge, him following the suit.
When you both reached the place you had in mind, the place Jason cherished when he was Robin, the expression on his face was priceless. It was like a mixture of awe and surprise with a hint of sadness.
“How did you find out about this?”, Jason inquired after a while of reminiscing. 
“Gee how indeed, ‘cause it cannot be the fact that I am detective who’s life is influenced by at least a dozen detectives and it’s most definitely not the fact that for me, you aren’t that difficult to figure out”
“Touché”
Jason chuckled at your usual playful sarcasm, his eyes were twinkling with something which felt more than just momental adoration and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile of your own. You made your way over to him, looking at the visible skyline for a brief moment, Jason watched as you sat down on the ledge with your legs dangling off, patting the space beside you gestured him to join you. 
“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a while, so might as well sit down and get comfortable”, you shrugged as he nodded and sat down beside you, placing his elbow on his bent knee. You both enjoyed the few minutes of comfortable silence, watching cars pass by below and the moon lit starry sky above.
“I am starting to see why you liked it here”
“Yeah...”
“Alfred told me”
“Huh?”, Jason looked at you dumbfounded, trying to process your words.
“After you...were gone, Alfred told me, he told me that this was your happy place, though I still can’t believe you had a favorite gargoyle”, stifling a laugh you somehow managed to continue, “Anyway so as I saying, ever since I found out about it, I used to come here every night when I got free from patrol, come to think of it I still do, sometimes”
You could feel his heavy gaze boring into you making you immediately regret bringing up this conversation. 
“Why?”, he finally inquired. You didn’t know whether to feel relived or be tense, but it was now or never, releasing a shallow breath you glanced at him, words flowing out on their own accord. 
“Even back then I knew everyone dies at some point and all we can do is try and find some meaning in it, in the memories they leave behind and I guess me wanting to be here, it was a part of me trying to do that and it made me feel somewhat connected to you so I kept doing it; Coming here, spending any time I could spare and leaving before the crack of dawn and before I knew it, it had become a habit.”
“So you did miss me”, he gave you a sad smile and wrapped his hand around your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze. 
“Of course I did you dumbass, I was best friend.”, you gave him a nudge and leaned your cheek on his chest, sighing deeply.
“The reason I avoided you after you came back was because I was scared”, you whispered, hoping it would sound less real that way. Jason pulled back a bit to take in your features and you could hear the strain in his voice, a hint of sadness in it.
“Scared of me?”
“Jason I wasn’t scared of you, I can never be, I was scared for you. I was afraid of losing you again. Every time you come back I lose you all over again and I am honestly tired of it and I thought that maybe if I kept my distance I--”
“Won’t get hurt again?”
“Yeah, something like that”
A moment passed where no one spoke anything, both of you running the scenarios of what might happen next in your brains. An idea clicked in your head and you abruptly got to your feet startling Jason in the process. Offering him your hand and a sheepish smile, you got him to his feet.
“I am tired of being scared Jason. I want this. I want us and for that I am willing to take a chance, are you?”, he stepped closer to you, his scent invading your senses.  
“For you (Y/N), anything. You should know that by now, plus I feel the same way, I have for a while now”, Jason breathed out as he pulled you in for a deep kiss leaving you dizzy for a while after you pulled away for air. Placing your foreheads together, you found yourselves grinning like idiots yet again in the two successive nights. Jason’s stomach growled, sending you into a fit of laughter.
“Hungry?”
“You really gotta ask?”, raising an eyebrow, he tried to look offended but ultimately melted against you as you pressed your lips on his for a brief moment.
“I know a place”, you murmured, lips brushing against his and before he could register what was happening you already had a grapnel gun in your hands, smirking as you jumped off the ledge.
“Last one there is a rotten egg hoodie!!”
“Hey! But I don’t even know where it is!”
“Not my fault Bird-Brain!”
Jason jumped on after you, smiling to himself. Both of you were thinking the same thing ‘maybe this was finally the start of a new chapter; something new, something scary and something beautiful altogether’
°•°•°•°•
Tags: @ladyperceval
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canyouhearthelight · 3 years
Text
The Miys, Ch. 133
Whew. I finally get a chance two queue chapters and add to my buffer! Yayyy me! Kind of long author’s note, feel free to skip to the readmore.
Seriously, though, I managed to only work 5ish hours of OT this week instead of the 25/wk I’ve been clocking the last several weeks. It’s been a ride, for sure. Thank you for bearing with me through this frankly-insane time.
@baelpenrose and I have had more chances to write together in real-time, which considering both our schedules and living 3 timezones apart has been a delightful miracle and I will never take it for granted ever again.
@anotherusrname and @the-raven-fae have been very encouraging of my efforts to work less, which - it turns out - has been a huge concern for oh, my entire family... Sorry I worried you all. :(  I’m trying to do better! Swear I have vacations coming up!
@charlylimph-blog has just been... such a support. She literally texts me every night at 10pm my time to tell me to take my most important medications. Sainted Eldritch Fae cannot be appreciated enough, and somehow I have two.
Final shout outs go to @snickerfritz, @just-a-pastel-bunny, and @eldritchmoths for love-bombing my inbox recently. Seeing anyone speed-run through this story lets me know that I’m not wasting my time.
Don’t forget to check out the podcast!!  AhhhhH! I want to scream in delight each time a new episode is released!
Focus, I told myself, breath coming in short pants. It was easier said than done, with sweat dripping into my eyes while I constantly tried to pay attention to where I was safe to move to without putting myself in the line of fire. Seeing the incoming hit, I ducked and pivoted to my left - 
“Oof,” I grunted as I took a blow to the ribs.  I managed not to be winded or fall, but I was pretty sure something just broke.
A voice taunted me. “You have got to get better at keeping your guard up.”
“I am,” I panted. “My ribs are a lot tougher than my face.” Refusing to be distracted, I jumped back from the next hit and started circling wide.
“And I hit harder than your sister.”
Yeah, well broken ribs are for bitches, I thought to myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a broken rib before. I was fine. Out of reflex more than forethought, I pivoted my leg and bent my knee to absorb the shock of the next hit - this one to the thigh. Grabbing the offending leg, I held tight around the calf with one arm before shoving upwards on the heel with the other, dropping him onto his back.
Unfortunately, the kick to the chin I got as a result also landed me on my back.
Like an exceedingly annoying ninja, Arthur sprang to his feet before holding out a hand to help me up off the floor. “You should have expected that.”
I scowled and rubbed my jaw. “Why am I sparring with you again?”
“Because Tyche’s busy and I’m the only other person willing to actually hit you hard enough to teach you anything.”
Rolling my neck, I tried to relieve some of the tension that was setting in. “It’s not like aliens are going to know Terran hand-to-hand combat,” I pointed out as I took my stance for the next round.  This time, his movement was a lot more fluid, which told me he was going for grappling instead of striking.
The kick I almost took to the face told me that his stance was also a lie.
There wasn’t any time for trash-talking, this time around. I could barely find time to breathe as he aggressively attacked, although I barely managed to avoid him actually touching me.  I wasn’t an idiot - if he got a hold of me, I would be waking up from a forced nap with a sore throat.  However, after what felt like an eternity and was probably only about five minutes, the odds of keeping it up were dwindling.  My heart was pounding in my ears, my lungs were searing with the effort of trying to keep up with it, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that I had enough stamina to outlast him.  The man ran a 5k a day as a warm up.  Even more humiliating, I had spent the entire time running and dodging without even a chance to mount a counter to any of it.
Finally, I was spent.  Every time I tried to raise my hands, they shook so badly that there was no chance of landing a hit, even if I had the opportunity.  My legs were trembling, my knees burned, and the broken rib felt like someone was twisting a hot blade into my side.  Feeling defeated, I dropped my hands and squared my feet up.  The blow to the solar plexus was unsurprising, as was the chokehold he put me in as soon as I doubled over.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time this had happened while sparring with him - or even with Tyche.
I was so frustrated. No matter how much I sparred with either of them, I felt like I hadn’t gained any ground.  The whole point to training so hard was to prove that I actually could defend myself. Councilor or not, the thought that I was going to be shoved in the back of the Archives in the event of an attack was insulting.  Not only that, it was even more insulting than the time I had round-the-clock guards. No one else had to put up with this, why did I?
“Tap out, Sophia,” he warned me.  He wasn’t squeezing yet, but he had his arm locked tightly enough that I couldn’t get my head out.  When I silently refused, he sighed and applied pressure, pissing me off even more.
I’m not helpless, I growled at myself. The anger at myself and the frustration with the situation flooded my mind, and I started pulling against the hold with my legs.
“You’re going to break your neck,” he grunted as he leaned the opposite direction.  I may not have had his stamina, but I could also leg-press nearly five-hundred pounds. He could let go, or lean back, no other options.
Spots were floating in front of my eyes when I felt his posture change, and as soon as I felt it, both my arms swung up.  Assuming I was going to hit his face, he leaned back even further…
Right into the path of my cupped hands, which hit his ears hard enough to bruise both my hands.
“Ow, FUCK!” he shouted, the pain of his ruptured ear drums distracting him just enough that I was able to pull my head free.
As soon as I stood, he reached up to one of his ears, only to pull his hand away and see blood. “Son of a - “ he stopped when he realized what happened. “Huh. That… that is a pretty neat trick.”
Oh, just you wait, I thought to myself.
Sure enough, as soon as he tried to shift his weight for another assault, he stumbled. Trying to compensate, he made it even worse and ended up falling flat on his back.  Dropping his head to the mat in defeat, he splayed his limbs out to try to gain some sense of equilibrium. “Oh that is cool,” he muttered, obviously for my benefit since he couldn’t exactly hear himself.
I managed to get him to his feet and drag him to the corridor as the medical transport arrived - there was no way I was going to try to walk him to a medbay.  Once his eardrums were restored - along with his internal balance - Arthur stood and stared me down. “That was a dirty trick, Sophia.”  Without warning, I was suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. “I am so proud of you.  Do that, a lot of it.”
“Can’t breathe,” I gasped.
He released me, stepping back. “Right. The rib.”
I tried to wave him off. “It’s just a broken rib. I’ll be fine.”
“Medbay.” He gestured around the room. “Stop being stubborn.”
“You’re overreacting - “
“If you trip and fall, which you will, you can puncture a lung.”
“Hasn’t happened yet.”
“It’s been broken all of ten minutes. Medbay. Now.”
I glared at him. “If you think this is the first broken rib I’ve had, you’re insane. It’s not even the fiftieth.”
“Stop reminding me that I can’t go back to Earth and kill someone who is hopefully dead anyway. You made me go to the medbay for some broken teeth after the fight with Jokul. Also, with your luck it’s a miracle you haven’t killed yourself by breathing, and I am not going to be the one who’s next up on Tyche’s shit list. Go. Medbay. Now.”
I opened my mouth to argue again, but was cut off by swearing and Arthur literally just picking me up and dropping me in the closest berth.  With exactly zero shame, he pinned me down by my shoulders and hips while one of Noah’s avatars held me down from the other side and scanned, then healed, my broken rib - both of them, it turns out. Finally, they both let go of me.  “Can I leave now?” I asked petulantly.
“Only if you tell me the eardrum trick so I can figure out how to use it on other species.”
Sliding off the berth and to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair. “Easy. You just cup your hands so there aren’t any cracks between your fingers, like this.” I demonstrated. “And then try to clap your hands through someone’s head, right over the ears. Force of the air ruptures the ear drums, and the trauma reaction kills their spatial sense and balance.” When he tilted his head at the simplicity of it, I shrugged. “Women’s self-defense classes.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Speaking of women and self-defense, we have got to get you more in the habit of striking and blocking with your legs.  Pretty sure you’d kick like a horse if you tried.”
“If I kick you, I’ll break something.”
“Your legs are a lot tougher than you think - “
“I meant something on you,” I clarified, staring at the ground.
I didn’t look up, but I could hear the savage grin in his voice at what he said next. “Oh, we have got to try this.” When my head snapped up, sure enough, he was smiling. “If you can land a kick on me, I won’t even be mad if you break something. But that’s not what I meant.”
“You want me to test it on someone else?” That wasn’t exactly a better option.
He rolled his eyes. “Maverick literally does calibrations for a living. Pretty sure he’s got something that measures impact force.  Then we do the math from there.”
“I feel like I’m on an episode of MythBusters,” I grumbled as we headed out of the Medbay and back towards my office.
“I know!” he agreed enthusiastically.
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pl-panda · 4 years
Text
The vines that bind us - Chapter 9
Chapter 1 || Previous || Next
------
She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.
Jason cursed under his breath. Any other day he would probably avoid the projectile, but it caught him completely by surprise. By all accounts, it was physically impossible to use a pencil with such precision and force to destroy military-grade night-vision binoculars. At least the memory card was safe so he could give it to replacement later on for analysis.
Still in bad mood after having his gear ruined, Jason zipped to Dupain-Cheng’s window and gave a light knock. No response. Another knock. Still no response. Finally, after the third knock, the blinders opened and the window itself followed, revealing a very angry girl. Jason finally had a chance to get a better look at her. She did, in fact, have blue hair and now that he’d seen it close, he would bet half his paycheque that it was somehow a natural color. The purple too. She must have had her hair dyed for the first day of work. Her eyes were another part that he memorized. They were blue and iridescent green at the same time, giving a slight unnatural aura. Or maybe it was just that she looked ready to murder him.
“Are you done staring?” She asked, clearly annoyed. “You are not my type and much too old. And the stalker routine is plain creepy. Get lost old guy.”
She was about to close the window when he started speaking.
“I actually came to apologize. I did not ‘stalk’ you, thank you very much. I was just checking on you, miss. You do realize that you single-handedly kicked Riddler’s ass and got quite a bit of publicity.”
“Suuure. You do that for every brave citizen?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a small grin. “You would be really short-staffed. I hope that overgrown furry does pay you for the overtime.” Any traces of amusement disappeared from her face. “Now get lost before I sic Chloe on you. She recently started dating Damian Wayne and the two seem to bond over ruining people. I’m sure you would make a decent target.” Without further ado, Mari closed the window and put the blinders back in place, completely cutting him off. 
Jason didn’t protest. He was too busy processing the fact that Demon Spawn apparently started dating someone. Oh, he would have so much fun teasing the little menace. 
----------------
When the motorbike entered the Batcave, Jason expected to meet perhaps the Replacement or Demon Spawn. He definitely did not expect to see the entire family sans B and Alfred. 
“Do you want to perhaps explain why dad received an angry call about ‘some idiot in red bucket’ stalking her through the window?” Barbara asked. frowning deeply. 
“Or at least why were you stalking her?” Dick added.
“Or where you hid my coffee?” Tim joined.
“Timothy!” Several of them shouted.
“What? It’s important!”
“Back to the matter at hand.” Dick turned back to Jason. “What exactly were you thinking?!” He screamed.
“Geez. You thought about joining some opera?”
“Tt. Answer the question.” Damian interrupted.
“That reminds me. Did you know Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend?” Jason asked, trying to deflect. He really did not like how they jumped at him.
“Not… important.” Cass stared daggers at him. “Talk.”
“Fine!” he threw hands in the air. “I followed a hunch. And I was right. She is a meta!” He procured his destroyed binoculars. “There is no human way to destroy military-grade equipment like that with just a pencil.”
Tim picked it up and quickly tossed it onto the table nearby. A blue light scanned the products and the bat-computer started to display the scan plus introductory analysis.
“Well, he is right. There is no way that a simple pencil could destroy it.” He pressed some buttons and recording from the last seconds of the item’s life played. They could clearly see her throw a pencil at it and then everything went black. “Or I was wrong.” Tim started to do a series of calculations. 
“Bucket-head might be onto something. With her muscle mass, it would be impossible to throw a pen with enough force. Actually, it’s almost impossible to make that throw. Not with human muscle density…”
Barbara rolled over to him and the two started to work side by side. “But that’s also not probable since the body is not…” 
“She would probably…” 
“Plant fibers have a similar structure, but she would…” 
“Maybe… Unless she is not strong and instead…”
“Um… earth to nerd corner. Can you explain?”
“Jason might have hit the bullseye.” Tim grinned and several groans could’ve been heard. “She is definitely a meta. It still doesn’t explain why you stalked her.”
“Is that not reason enough?” Red Hood asked. He immediately regretted it when Duke stared daggers at him. 
“You do realize, that metahumans are not as rare as it was believed at the beginning?” Tim asked.
“What?”
“Roughly ten percent of humans are born with dormant meta-gene and the number is increasing each year. And about one in twenty people have an active meta-gene. They just don’t go around wrecking everything or don a cape and run around beating people.” Tim spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. 
“What?”
“Yeah. Eidetic memory, or perfect recall for our uneducated bucket-head,” Tim snickered while Jason grumbled.
“I hate that name.”
“I think it will stay for a while.” Stephanie was smiling. “She does have a way with nicknames. First an overgrown furry, then red Buckethead…” She was on the verge of laughing. “I wonder what she does next?”
“As I was saying,” Tim regained the control of the conversation, “eidetic memory is actually one of the earliest forms of registered active meta-ability.”
“What?”
“The gene tends to activate under extreme duress, but, as we learned, the definition of extreme duress varies from person to person.”
“So what? A guy afraid of failing an exam might accidentally unlock super memory?” Jason dismissed it.
“More like if someone lived in years under pressure and is about to crack.” Dick pointed. “I mean there was even this large awareness campaign about four years ago led by Beast Boy. Where were you?”
“Dead.” Jason deadpanned. “I was dead.”
“Oh… I guess you didn’t see Garfield’s movies then?” Steph asked, being the first to break through the heavy atmosphere.
“She is still a meta.” Jason tried to fight, but his arguments were wavering. 
“Which changes nothing. You will go to her tomorrow and apologize.” Tim said categorically. 
“Ugh! Fine. But I got one more interesting fact: Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend.” He grinned and turned to Damian. Everyone followed his gaze.
“Tt. I have no idea what you are talking about Todd.” 
“That blonde! Charlie saw you two sitting and eating pastries together! She is the new intern!” Dick had a big fat smile on his face and his eyes were almost glittering. “Who is she? How did you two meet?”
“Blonde?” Tim suddenly paled considerably. “There is only one blonde intern. Please tell me you aren’t dating Chloe Bourgeoise of all people!” He squeaked.
Damian wanted to deny it further, but seeing the Replacement’s reaction he changed his mind. The grin that formed on his face was borderline malicious before turning back to the emotionless mask he wore every day. “Yes. She finally admitted that I was not at fault for the cake incident. She is actually tolerable now.” 
“What cake incident?” Steph asked, smelling some juicy story about her ex. That kind of story was the best.
“Tt. When we were at this gala in Paris two years ago, Replacement attacked me and we fell into the birthday cake.”
“It doesn’t sound…” Dick started, but Damian interrupted him.
“The cake had six levels and was about as tall as I am now. Mayor Bourgeoise was not happy that we ruined his precious princess’s birthday.”
“So that’s why we no longer go to Paris?”
“Tt. No. That’s because Jason almost trashed the Louvre.” 
“Right…” Tim mumbled while his eyes closed. In just a moment, he was snoring away on the chair.
“Damn. I thought it would work faster.” Barbara complained while peeling the near-invisible sticker away from his neck. 
-----
Thursday actually passed without any trouble for Marinette. The class finally got it through their collective single brain cell that she had the power to end their trip with two words. She was slowly getting the grip on the work and after some talk with Penny, where the woman practically forced Mari to listen to some additional advice. She was actually offended that the girl didn’t call her immediately. 
She did have to practically drag her barely conscious boss to a meeting in the afternoon, but he didn’t put up much of a fight after she gave him a Tikki Special Coffee. The small goddess giggled inside her pocket the entire time as the boy begged on his knees.
After work, she and Chloe went to the Gotham Zoological Garden. At first, she wanted to go to the Botanic Garden first, but their class was supposed to visit there after work, so the girls went to Zoo instead. Gotham had a much broader collection of birds than Paris did. And the less chance of running into their classmates, the better.
“...He did what?” Chloe asked louder than necessary, but nobody paid the two girls in smart outfits any attention.
“Yeah. But don’t worry. I gave him a piece of my mind.” Mari dismissed it.
“It’s still creepy.”
“I know. That’s why I sicced the police at him.”
“That’s my girl!” 
“Well, I threatened to send you and Damian after him, but I decided it would be too cruel.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve seen that Red Buckethead is trending already.” She pulled out her phone and showed a post there was a picture of Red Hood next to a reversed red bucket.
FashionMari @QueenGoldie Someone in a red bucket was stalking me. I was torn between calling the police and criticizing their fashion choice. In the end, I did both. 
“Only you Goldie. Only you…”
--------
Friday was press conference day. For once, Mari woke up earlier and got dressed in record time. Chloe watched from the side-lines as the girl moved around like a tornado, preparing everything and triple-checking all arrangements. She changed outfits four times before finally the blonde grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down. 
“Goldie! You know I love you and I would kill for you,” She started, “but if you don’t calm down I will tie you up and leave you here for the day.”
“But…!” Bluenette tried to protest, but Chloe cut her off.
“No buts. We are only sixteen. I for one came here to learn a bit and maybe meet someone. You are supposed to be learning. Nobody said anything about getting a full-time job.”
“The deal…”
“So what if they fire you?” Chloe raised her hands over her head. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! You have Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeoise fighting over who will get you while Jagged Stone is willing to fly over half the world just to give your references in person. You run a very successful flower shop and even more successful boutique.”
“But…” She tried to muster a weak protest, but Chloe’s angry gaze made her wither. 
“I will not let you run yourself dry!” The blonde stated firmly. “So either you take a step back and breathe or I will call your uncle.”
“Not uncle Jagged! he already banned me from drinking coffee!”
“So you will behave?” Chloe asked with a smirk. 
“Fiiiinneee!” Mari couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I needed this. I’m glad I have you as my friend. And sister.” 
“Well of course you needed me! Everyone needs me!” She huffed before her expression became more gentle and she pulled Mari into a hug. 
Downstairs the class was waiting for them. Probably they finally gathered the courage to confront her about Alya’s fate. The girl shouldn’t have lied while filing for promotion. Mari and Chloe stormed past them not even sparing them a glance. Outside, Adrien was already waiting inside the limousine with Gerard at the driver’s seat. 
“I’m glad your driver is finally here.”
“Me too!” The blond boy was practically beaming. “I’m free from Lila’s clutches.”
“Could you drop us at… No. 2 Twine Street?” Mari asked the gorilla, who only grunted in response.
“Um… We should be going to Wayne Tower.”
“Nope.” Mari popped the ‘p’. “You,” she pointed at Adrien, “are an intern in PR. I asked for you to be present at the press conference to help move stuff around and so on.” 
“And me?” Chloe asked. “If you expect me to…” 
“You’re there to support your boyfriend. He was the one that practically demanded that I get you there. He hates publicity.”
“Oh… Good then. Let’s go.”
“Boyfriend?” Adrien asked curiously. “You mean Wayne?”
“Yeah. Apparently Chloe found herself a partner in scheming.”
“I bet that their dates are filled with planning to take over the world.”
“We could’ve taken the world over by lunch if we wanted.” Chloe looked almost offended. “The question is what way would be the most suitable one.” 
All three of them broke into laughter as the car rode through the city of crime.
----
About fifteen minutes before the press conference was scheduled to start, Tim Drake was still not there. None of the Waynes were there in fact. She sent about fifteen angry messages to Mr. Drake and he was still not here, which only fueled her stress and anger. 
The press had no idea so far and they were eagerly awaiting whatever news the company wanted to present. She bit her lower lips. Chloe was on the phone, trying to reach her boyfriend.
“If that idiot doesn’t get here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to consider stabbing him.” 
“Damian?!” Chloe shouted into her phone. 
“Tt. What do you want?”
“First of all, that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend. Second of all, where in the world is your excuse of a brother?! Mari is an inch from going ballistic!”
“Tt. He’s asleep.” Damian answered in an impassionate tone.
Mari leaped over and wrestled the phone from Chloe. “You go to him right this moment or I swear to all that’s holy and…”
“I get it.” He interrupted her, showing signs of irritation. There were some static and the camera blurred for a moment from the fast motion. When it returned, she saw barely awake Tim Drake wearing blue onesies. 
“wah…”
“Get yourself cleaned up and into a suit in the next three minutes!” She shouted. God bless the soundproof backstage.
“Um… But I will never make…”
“I’m certain you have a great webcam somewhere in this big mansion of yours. Set it in the library and call me in the next few minutes. I so hope you were not supposed to be the model because gods help me…” She took a look at his terrified face. “Of course you were…” 
“In my defense…”
“Shut up. Get going!” She hanged up and turned to Adrien and Chloe, who were looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. “What are you waiting for?!” She tossed a package to the boy. “You get dressed in the new product.” She pushed him outside and into the janitor’s closet on the other side. “And you’re coming with me!” She dragged Chloe toward the main room. The blonde was sent to the technics room to get the feed started while Mari stepped on the scene. The chatter died quickly and all reporters turned to her.
“Hi. Please forgive us for the slight delay. We have minor technical difficulties that are being solved as we speak. In the meantime, you are free to take the seats. The conference is about to start.” 
Behind her, a screen slowly descended. She saw Adrien leaning from the doors leading backstage and smiling at her. 
“Without further ado, I present you Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”
The image of the teen with black hair appeared on the screen and he waved everyone. He was holding a red cup of coffee with black polka dots, the same Tikki summoned for him the first time. 
Satisfied with herself, Marinette allowed herself a moment of rest. The conference was going well and after a minute of silence for the dead in the recent attack, the presentation began. Adrien was a natural model so it all went great. Wayne Tech in co-operation with Gabriel brand was introducing a new line of ‘smart’ fabric that could withstand medium stress and was almost impossible to dirty or stain. She had to admit it was quite amazing. Apparently, it was partially how Mr. Agreste got her class internship. Granted, Adrien was not supposed to be the model but you don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. 
Everything was going great until the doors to the room were kicked open and several goons barged in, followed by none other than Two-face. Everyone immediately fell onto the floor. Mari couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly. Why did it have to go wrong at every turn?
Ignoring the terrified stares, she stormed toward the intruders. “Excuse me, sir?” She asked with an emotionless face.
“What?” The man looked clearly irritated.
“I don’t see your name on the guest list. Did you remember to call in advance?”
“Of course not! Do I look like…” The criminal was clearly angry. 
“Then I apologize, but I must ask you to leave now.” 
“Do you have any idea who I am?” Two-face pulled his gun.
“I’m sorry, sir, but if you are not on on the list, I can’t let you stay.” She said in an emotionless voice. Mari was honestly too tired to care at this point. Maybe at least the evening would be better.
“I’m not sure you get the situation, miss. I’m not here for the interviews. Everyone pull out your wallets and drop them in the sacks!” He shouted while his men started to walk around.
“Hm… That won’t do.” She said. After muttering something under her breath, Mari tossed her clipboard. The spinning board hit one of the mooks in the head, knocking him cold, before bouncing and hitting the next one. After that, it returned to her hand. 
That was enough for Two-Face. He aimed his gun at her, but she moved faster than he anticipated. Within seconds, she grabbed his wrist and pushed it up so he was aiming at the ceiling. She squeezed it hard enough to make him drop the gun right into her other waiting hand. The girl let go of his wrist and disassembled the gun into pieces in what could become record time. 
Now irritated, Mari grabbed Two-face by his tie and pulled him down until they were at the same eye-level. 
“I was trying to do it peacefully sir. I am now ordering you to leave. Otherwise, I will actually have to hurt you.” She leaned closer until she was able to whisper. “And don’t make mistakes, Dent. I can and will hurt you.” For a moment her eyes lost the blue coloring and became entirely iridescent green, glowing slightly. 
Harvey Dent rarely felt fear. His life was more often than not guided by the toss of a coin. Now though, he stared in the eyes of Poison Ivy, except ten times scarier. He was already afraid of that woman after she almost fed him to her ‘precious’.
“I… I am deeply sorry madame.” He spoke carefully. “Men! We are moving out. Leave the bags!” And with that, they were all gone. 
Most of the reporters gave Mari big applause. There was only one angry old man that stared daggers at the girl. 
“You let that scum go away!” He shouted. “He was a criminal.”
“Sir. You are free to go after him if that’s your wish. I’m at work and my job description never included chasing after criminals.”
“But… But…” 
“Anyway, we were in the middle of the press conference if I’m not mistaken.”
-------
NEXT
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stusbunker · 3 years
Text
BGDC: Stay Down
A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini-series
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Featuring: Female Hunter!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Chuck and Jack
Written for: @supernatural-jackles​​ Tell Me A Story Bingo
Summary: Everything comes to a head. Can she do better this time? Is there anything worth salvaging? Chuck has his own thoughts.
Square filled: In Vino Veritas
Word Count: 2615
Warnings: THIS HURTS, Flashbacks in italics, canon-ish, verbal arguments, that pesky motherfucker HOPE, Chuck is still a dick.
Series Masterlist
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Inherit the Earth con’t
    It had taken Sam two weeks to get out of Dean what happened, why she left. It was not his proudest moment, but the thought of her in their home made him sick. So, he had shown her the door. He thought he was her hero, he’d never imagined she’d treat him like a piece of meat.
    There were some lines that you shouldn’t cross and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to forgive her that.
The drive to Sam and Jack feels like an eternity, even ignoring all traffic laws. The day is bright, but the impala rumbles garishly, a black omen. The static hiss of unmanned radio stations gives her something to do. She diligently sorts the tapes, finds something to fill the void. 
Melody as white noise. A band aid on a bullet wound. Dean can’t fix what’s been broken. But she never even tried.
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Sam cries at the sight of her. She runs into his arms and he squeezes until he can’t any longer. An ounce of redemption in the ocean of guilt. Sam glances over her head to his brother, he feels the other shoe drop.
“Where’s Cas?” Jack’s obvious question echoes the shame in the new arrivals’ eyes. She holds her breath as Dean explains, like she’s waiting for his story before she can move on. Like he didn’t tell her either.
Sam aches with what he’s allowed to happen. The old internal rage gnashing at his gut as he screams in an abandoned restaurant. They’re what was left behind. All they have left to do is give Chuck what he wants.
His ending, at last.
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Dean didn’t tell her what he and Sam were doing. Didn’t need an outside opinion on this one. Instead he asked her to keep an eye on Jack, knowing she’d say yes. He guessed he wasn’t done asking for things. The sight of Chuck makes him see red. But this was it, he’d die with his brother beside him. For the world.
When Chuck blows off their offer, he can’t say that he’s surprised. Disgusted, angry, regretful maybe, but Dean’s not surprised. 
The house always wins.
They crash at a motel for the night, everyone gets their own rooms for a change. She knocks on his door just after midnight with a bottled peace offering and her ratty sleep clothes. Dean doesn’t need this right now, but he doesn’t have the energy to be cruel.
“Where’d you get this?” Dean holds the amber liquid up to the light to read the label.
“Liquor store down the street. Don’t even feel bad for taking the five finger discount anymore,” she sighs and drops on the spare bed. “You gonna tell me about your little side mission or do I just get to guess at the outcome?”
Dean cracks the bottle open and sighs. “Bupkis. So, nothing to tell, really.”
She’s watching him for signs of lies, at least she’s not overtly antagonistic with her appraisal.
He offers her the bottle and she shakes her head. ‘Maybe she learned her lesson,’ he thinks and then takes a long pull off the glass rim.
“So, the Empty, huh?” Dean grimaces as she closes her eyes, taken aback.
“What makes you think I want to talk about it?” Her faces pinches and he is just too fucking tired.
“Because you always want to talk about it. It was kind of a thing.” Dean shrugs.
“I came to check on you, dumbass,” she mutters. He sits on his bed, leaves the bottle between them on the nightstand.
He doesn’t stop the sour hum that claws up his throat. He was trying to play nice, but she just had to keep on being the tough guy. “Funny, didn’t think you cared much what happened to me anymore, or how I feel about things at least.”
She has the gall to look surprised, but underneath it he sees she’s almost as tired as he is. “I did not come here looking for a fight. If you’ve got something to say to me--- Maybe you should remember who called who. And who dropped everything to help.”
“And I don’t seem to remember you doing too much of that,” Dean snaps back, turning his head only.
She pauses and Dean feels a little smug that he’s getting to her. But not nearly as much as he should. He cocks his eyebrows, waiting for her obvious answer.
She shoves him back on his proverbial heels instead. “We both know you were just keeping tabs on me. There wasn’t anything for me to do. And then I became a fucking bargaining chip. So screw you, Dean. I’m not here for a performance review.”
“I think we already established, no one is screwing anyone here,” Dean mutters, letting his head fall back against the wall. 
“Is that what this is about?! You are honestly bringing that shit up now?!”
“So what if I am? Better than acting like it never happened. Playing the fucking martyr,” Dean bites back. “I, at least, own my shit. Maybe you should try it some time.”
“You kicked me out! What was I supposed to do, wait on a damn cross until you finished your case?!” She still doesn’t get it. Dean’s chest is writhing with all the things they never buried.
“It doesn’t matter. We were family. And you threw it all away,” Dean lays it out.
“ME?!”
“Yes, you!” Dean’s standing, hunching over her, unleashing. “You had to make it about your feelings and the crush you had on me when we were kids. Don’t you see? It was more than that. We WERE more than that. But you were lonely, or horny or needed to drown your feelings. And you cheapened everything. And now---- we can’t even have a real conversation.”
It’s like he’s looking at a completely different person. He doesn’t even know her anymore. 
“Dean, I---” He cuts her off, this was entirely pointless.
“Don’t, okay? Just--- leave it. I’m gonna get some air.” Dean starts towards the door and slumps, half turned he continues, “Look, I’m glad you didn’t get stuck in the Empty. But Cas did---- And to be clear, this wasn’t ever about rebuilding bridges, it was about stopping Chuck. And we couldn’t manage that.--- But we can’t just go back to the way things were just because we’re all that’s left. The sooner you understand that, the easier this will be--- for everybody.”
The heaviness of wasted effort sinks into his shoulders. Dean closes the door behind him with a gentle click. They both know she’ll be gone before he gets back.
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No one left in the entire world and one of my oldest friends still doesn’t want me around. This wasn’t humble pie, it was a goddamn humility infused vat of pie filling. Not a spoon in sight.
Fuck him. Fucking pie metaphors even. Fucking brain.
I leave the damn whiskey, but I really want to throw it against the wall. Dump it in his boots. Bath in it. But I don’t. I give him his twenty paces and I duck out, bypass my room, Jack’s, and head back towards the liquor store. There was a pick-up I might be able to hot wire, if I remember where I saw it.
I mash my lips together to stop their quake, but everything keeps clawing its way up, centering itself in my way. I did this. The one person I needed to believe in me and I fucking ruined it. It was never about Amara, or Cas or him being too good for me. I just wanted what wasn’t there. 
The dirtiness slides down and clings to me, like a wet coat. An unwashable stain, that’s all my presence is anymore. I don’t want to be where I am unwanted, unneeded, unuseful. Well, useless really. But, I can’t lose Sam too. Not again and definitely not now. I stop when I spot the truck. 
Running isn’t going to mend what running severed.
Know better, do better.
I creep back to the motel and pretend to sleep. There are salt lines dried across my skin when Jack knocks on my door.
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The sun still rises. Dean tosses his things in his bag, even the whiskey. Waste not want not. They’re heading home to regroup or to hide or just for something to do. He doesn’t care, but being out in the open feels like he’s leaving them open for an ambush, or Chuck’s prying eyes at the very least.
He knows they’re not safe from that anywhere. It just feels safer somehow.
Dean feels good in motion. Sam’s at his side, while she and Jack sit in their own quiet corners in the back. The looming reality of an empty planet unnoticeable on the backroads. Denial is a helluva drug.
So is hope. Good thing he kicked that one.
When they pull into the garage, he doesn’t even bother grabbing his duffel from the trunk. Dean bee lines for the hard stuff and no one even bats an eye.
Maybe he has always been that predictable. Maybe he no longer cares.
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I’m sitting on my bed, flipping through an old photo album when Sam finds me. It’s been three days and the bunker just keeps getting hollower the longer we stay inside. It’s like Chuck is slowly strangling the oxygen from the air.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be the first one to break.
Dean’s too far into a pity party at the bottom of a bottle to be pushed off any one edge and Sam’s too good at keeping on. Of course, Jack is getting by on sheer purity of spirit.
“How you holding up?” Sam’s voice is scratchy, but familiar, I don’t know the last time we actually spoke. I don’t really make eye contact, but shrug all the same.
“You?” I ask, unnecessarily.
He sits down beside me, looking over my shoulder. He huffs out a laugh at one of the pictures.
“I can’t believe you managed to keep all of these,” Sam says as he reaches over and slides his finger tips over the poorly taped Polaroids.
“They were at Bobby’s for a while, but I dug them out of a storage unit after--- well, after I fucked things up with your brother. Figured they were all I had left after that.”
Sam inhales at my bluntness, cocks his head because it hurts to hear, but also doesn’t sit right. What a doof.
“Spit it out, Legs, I know you wanna say something,” I goad.
“I guess I don’t really--- what happened?” Sam’s eternal need to know things going for my weak spot. “I mean, Dean said you tried to put the moves on him, but I guess, why was it so horrible?”
“Well, I actually have some new information on that front,” I offer, turning to face him and placing the memories on the far side of the bed. 
Sam’s brows pitch. 
“Apparently, I--- cheapened everything. Dean thought whatever our relationship was, was more important than hooking up. And I made it all about me.”
“He said that?” Sam asks in a hush.
“Yup,” I huff out. “And a very firm, ‘there is no rebuilding bridges’,” I say in my best/worst Dean voice.
“Wow.” Sam looks to the ceiling then scratches the back of his head. He doesn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, I mean, I did kiss him. I knew it was a bad idea, but I had psyched myself up that entire night, misread everything. I’ve never been the one guys willingly go home with. I shouldn’t have forced it.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve had---,” Sam breaks off when he thinks about my asshole ex.
“I’ve had a couple of real winners,” I finish for him. “But it’s okay. Because now we’re the last people on Earth. No one left to break my heart.”
I slap the edge of the mattress and lurch to my feet, ignoring the pain in Sam’s eyes. He just lost Eileen and here I am moping about something that happened over two years ago. Once a shitty friend, always a shitty friend.
“You can keep looking through that if you want. I’m gonna start dinner,” I add at the door.
Sam nods, but he doesn’t reach for the album. He just sits on my bed and chews the inside of his lips.
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Jack’s feeling things and Sam’s looking at Dean with insistence, but Dean’s hungover-leeched brain is not putting things together.
“What?!” 
Sam grimaces, heavy on the bitch factor. “I think you should be the one to tell her we’ve got a lead. Meanwhile, I’ll start packing the car.”
“Great. Sure.” Dean does little to hide his disdain. Sam doesn’t budge.
He grunts through an explanation as she cleans her gun. Luckily, she doesn’t ask too many questions because the vibrations of his own voice are adding to the throbbing at the base of his skull. 
She slips him a bottle of painkillers before ducking into the back seat next to Jack. He doesn’t say thank you, but he knows she knows he’s grateful. They used to be able to do that, not as easily as he and Sam, but silent communication was possible, once.
He gets them on the road before noon, the familiar feel of the wheel in his hands steadies Dean until the pain starts to subside. The soft, yet urgent Jack-P-S guiding their way.
They stop for an inevitable pitstop and Dean gets hit with a pure dose of that damning hope. A white, shaggy dog is laying outside the men’s room and his face breaks into a smile for the first time in weeks. It’s the proof he needed aside from Jack’s fuzzy radar.
Chuck didn’t get everything.
He scoops the dog up and shows him off to Sam, forgetting entirely about his need to pee. He sets the sudden miracle in the backseat, promises there’ll be enough room for him.
That’s when Dean spots Chuck in the field, menacing and knowing. Dean straightens on instinct, facing the threat. As Chuck raises his hand to snap, a gushing voice rushes to Dean’s side.
“Oh, who’s a good boy?!” She doesn’t see their destructive creator waiting in the wings and Dean moves to shield her from Chuck’s gaze. 
It’s too late.
Suddenly Chuck is standing beside the impala’s trunk.
“Now, how exactly did I miss you?” Chuck gapes, the disbelief and rage shifting across his once amiable face.
She chokes on her breath, freezes on the spot. Dean sees the power trip flash in Chuck’s piercing blue gaze. He likes when people are fearful, he likes to see them squirm.
“She wasn’t here when you iced everybody, Chuck. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s still just us,” Dean reasons, downplaying her worth.
“Nah, I don’t like it. It’s supposed to be you and Sam. Jack, fine. He’s just a pet anyway. But her? You guys get over your crap and suddenly there’s a whole new generation of thorns in my side. Sorry,” Chuck huffs and snaps his fingers. She disappears faster than Dean could take it in. “Not sorry.”
“What the hell?!” Dean barks. Panic, rage, and overwhelming sadness shoot through him as he dives towards Chuck. But he’s gone before Dean can get there. Falling to the gravel, gracelessly, Dean spins on his knees to see if Sam or Jack are still alive and accounted for. He spots their silhouettes through the convenience store windows. With that little platitude, Dean staggers over to soothe the dog’s sudden whimper. And then it vanishes too.
Maybe Dean never made it out of Hell after all.
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Tell me what you think?
Tagging: @peridottea91​​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​​ @cosicas-cuquis​​ @flamencodiva​​ @akshi8278​​​ @dontshootmespence​​​ @smi727​​​ @ericaprice2008​​​ @crashdevlin​​​ @dolphincliffs​​​ @spnfamily-j2​​  
Read On: Free Will
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lip synch your way into my heart pt. 3
Part One // Part Two
(listen, I’m not holding pt. 4 hostage or anything, but please leave me some comments or fun tags on this one? that’d be really cool of you)
---
Jaskier wraps his hands tightly around the warm paper cup he’s clutching between them and feels his face go hot yet again. Geralt thinks the younger man’s blush the cutest thing he’s ever fucking seen, so he’s continued to shower Jaskier in compliments to turn him pink over and over. At last Jaskier works up the courage to ask: “So how’d you manage to get so popular, anyway? What’s the secret to becoming an influencer?” 
“Looks, probably,” Geralt shrugs. He takes a sip of his cappuccino and makes steady, gentle eye contact with Jaskier. “I started making Tik Oks with my friend Yennefer as a kind of goofy joke but then I just sort of...gained a following? She always tells me it’s because of my cool hair and, uh, rockin’ bod.” 
“Ah, you’re accidentally famous,” Jaskier smiles against the rim of his cider. It’s early fall and Jaskier lives for warm cider; he drinks it at every available opportunity. Warm and sweet? Those are two of the best adjectives in the world! And, he’s learning, they also apply to Mr. White Hair himself. 
“What’re you studying?” Geralt asks. Jaskier hears the honest curiosity behind the words and marvels again that this Adonis of a man has deigned to give him the time of day, much less take him to a bougie coffee shop and pay for both of their drinks and croissants.
“I’m nearly finished with a degree in Music Theory right now, with a minor in applied psychology.”
“Can you even get a minor in applied psych?” Geralt laughs. “It took me forever to get a minor in monstrosity-based biomed added to the college roster. Although technically I have a bachelor’s in applied veterinary studies, I really wanted to go into monster research and work with the big boys in the field. Like kikimoras and maybe even some griffins. An archgriffin if I’m lucky enough to get accepted to the breeding and rehabilitation program at the University of Aedirn.”
Jaskier’s expression is screaming shock and awe and it fills Geralt with pride. Or it does, until Jaskier asks: “You have a degree?”
Geralt purses his lips and takes another slow sip of coffee. “Should I...not?”
“No, it’s just that I-” Jaskier cuts himself off by biting his lip. Geralt’s amber eyes lock onto the spot where Jaskier’s teeth have the gentle pink skin held captive and he swallows audibly. Jaskier, still worried that he’s somehow offended the influencer, is blissfully unaware of what he’s doing to Geralt. “You’ve got to be making some kind of money off this whole thing, so I didn’t think you’d need a degree. It was silly of me to assume you didn’t and I’m sorry for putting my whole foot directly in my mouth so early on in our date.”
“It’s fine, Jask. It’s not like you already know my personal history or anything; actually I was almost finished with school when the likes and follows really started pouring in.”
“That’s...cool?”
“Yeah, it’s been interesting,” Geralt chuckles. “I’ve been chased down for selfies a handful of times now and it’s really uncomfortable. How am I supposed to just live my day to day life when every other intern at my research facility wants a selfie for their Tumblr or whatever?”
“Wow. I’m glad I’m not internet famous.”
“Not yet.”
“Huh?” Jaskier asks, glancing up from his drink again. 
“Oh I just…” Geralt trails off into thoughtful silence, a habit that Jaskier has very quickly picked up on, and taps his fingers against the table for a moment. “I wondered if you’d want to go on another date?”
“I’d love to!” Jaskier answers a little too quickly. Then his eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What does our second date have to do with not being famous yet, Geralt?” 
“If we end up getting more serious,” the influencer mutters, barely audible, “I thought it might be cool to make some videos together. Or something. You totally don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, though.”
Jaskier’s pretty blue eyes go wide and shocked and terrified. Geralt’s heart drops into his shoes before he hears the whispered, “But why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean...why me? There are prettier, smarter, more creative boys out there. And girls, I guess. They could get you way more likes and views than I ever could.”
Geralt's hand darts out before he can stop it, grasping onto Jaskier’s wrist gently but firmly. The younger boy could break his hold easily with one slight movement to the side, but he doesn’t. Not yet. He wants to hear what Geralt has to say. “You’re not a prop, Jaskier. I didn’t ask you out in the dumbest, most elaborate way I could think of just because I wanted more views. I didn’t spend two hours browsing through every one of your comments until I found ‘this one is my favorite’, so I could re-create it just for you. I did those things because I just...like you?”
Jaskier goes totally red this time and Geralt is elated. Then the younger man giggles nervously and makes eye contact again, “I have the right kind of vibe?”
“Yeah,” Geralt smiles. The tension that had gathered in the air between t hem dissipates, “You have exactly the kind of vibes I’ve been looking for. We’re vibemates.”
“Oh my god they were vibemates,” Jaskier jokes and they both laugh. 
“So, what’s your favorite color?” Geralt asks, and the conversation really takes off from there.
---
Geralt drives Jaskier home a little after midnight and walks him to the front door of his apartment. “I don’t think I’m ready for a goodnight kiss yet,” the brunette admits. Geralt takes one of his hands instead, brushing his lips against the back of Jaskier’s knuckles with a quiet sort of reverence. Jaskier’s eyes stay locked with the influencer’s until his hand is gently returned to his side and the older man winks. 
“See you soon?”
“Yeah. Text me whenever.”
“Cool. Goodnight, Jaskier.”
“Goodnight, Geralt. Please drive safe, and let me know when you get home?”
Geralt’s heart launches into his throat and his chest floods with happy warmth. Jaskier cares. “I will.”
---
On the relatively short drive home, Geralt thanks every deity imaginable for closing the more convenient Party City near his house for good; otherwise he’d have never met the man he hopes to make his boyfriend.
He thinks about his next Tik Tok; it’s got to be perfect. It has to be a public declaration of his feelings; Jaskier had expounded upon the romance of PDA for several long minutes during their date and Geralt wasn’t afraid of showing his cute new love interest off.
“What kind of song should I use, though?” he asks the empty air. No one replies, of course, and Geralt drives the rest of the way home in silence. 
He remembers to text Jaskier goodnight and receives a heart emoji in reply.
Oh yeah, the influencer thinks to himself, I’m well and truly fucked.
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