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#glad to be arm in arm with all you smart & like-minded individuals!
idk-bruh-20 · 9 months
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so glad I found another person that's just. Refusing to acknowledge endgame. Lovely music, the scenes were cool. the ending? don't remember. there was a rush to the hospital I think? Everyone lived, if i'm remembering correctly? I'm delulu and i'm free (I will never forgive marvel) take care of yourself !! <3
Yayayay yes exactly!!! There is no endgame in ba sing se y'all!!!
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babyjakes · 10 months
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sweet surprise. [blurb.]
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | august '23 general requests blurb night
summary | ransom has a surprise encounter with your little niece.
pairing | soft!ransom drysdale x auntie!reader (+ reader's baby!niece)
warnings | SOFT RANSOM IS BACK. just soooo fluffy, like unbearable amounts of fluff hehe. written from reader's pov, but most of it is just ran & da baby <3
word count | 689
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requested by @brandycranby | hiiiiii eun ✨💕 for blurb night, maybe we could see a fluff or hurt/comfort + unexpectedly soft!ransom + baby? like a teeny tiny chubby wubby baby 🥺
an | aaaahhhhh i'm so glad you sent in this request brandy bby, i've been DYING to write soft!ran lately and this is just the sweetest idea ever ever, hope you enjoy sweet friend and thank you for the amazing idea!!
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You don't hear Ransom as he returns home from work, tossing his bag beside the door with a quiet grumble. As always, he's not in the best mood after spending nearly six hours at his grandfather's, helping the old writer with the logistics of his business. He can't wait to spend time with you, the sunshine that always brightens his day and erases any worries that might be floating around in his mind. He doesn't see you as he looks around the living room, but what he does see catches him off guard. On the floor, across the room, sits a strange-looking contraption— some sort of swing. He lets out a gasp as he sees what's sitting inside: a tiny baby whose big, bright eyes are looking over at him with a darling sense of curiosity.
"Oh my," Ransom hums to himself. He stands frozen for a few moments, looking around the room again. You're nowhere to be found. "Now what are you doing here all alone?" he hums softly, finally building up the courage to start making his way over to the swing.
He stops several feet away, just observing the tiny being. Judging by the sweet pink lettering on her jumper that spells out Mama's Girl, he's able to easily guess the infant's gender. "My goodness," the large man whispers, his face softening as the sweet little girl smiles at the sound of his voice, "you're so tiny. What're you doing here, hmm? Was y/n looking after you this afternoon?"
He sits down cross-legged on the floor, scooting himself up a bit more as the baby sways gently in the swing, clapping her tiny hands together clumsily to show the stranger that she's happy to see him. Ransom bites back a smile, reaching out a hand to brush back the little one's thin tufts of hair. "Hi there, pretty girl," he murmurs, "Are you clappin' for me? That's so nice of you, sweetheart. What a smart girl you are."
The infant claps a few more times, giggling softly as a defeated smile finally crosses the brown-haired man's face. "You're too sweet," he admits, stroking the baby's chubby little cheek. "I wonder where y/n is, hmm? Have you seen her?" he asks comically, his grin widening as the baby just continues to wiggle and smile in the swing. "You wanna come out, sweetheart? C'mere, let me hold you."
His hands are steady and careful as he gently unbuckles her from the swing, being sure to support her neck and head as he lifts her up and brings her to his chest. "Oh my," his voice flutters as she tucks her tiny head against his shoulder, snuggling right up to him. "There you go, angel. I got you," he whispers, stroking her hair as he bounces her gently in his arms.
"Welcome home," you giggle as you enter the doorway to the kitchen, your heart swelling at the sight of the giant man holding the tiny baby so carefully, as if she's the most precious thing in the world.
"Look, there's y/n!" Ransom coos excitedly to the little one, causing her to look over at you and offer you a huge, toothless smile. "I bet she missed you!"
"Looks like you're Uncle Ran, huh?" you joke as you join the two on the floor, rubbing the tiny girl's back as Ransom sways and cradles her. "Never knew you liked babies."
"Me neither," the man chuckles, looking down at your niece with the gentlest smile. "But I think this little one might've changed my mind. Look at how tiny she is. So tiny and precious, aren't you?" he fusses her again, earning a chorus of giggles from the baby as he messes her hair carefully. "How long is she staying?" Ransom asks, looking back up at you. "Can we see her again soon? I'll take off work, Harlen won't mind— we should bring her over to see him! He loves kids."
"Hey, hey, slow down," you laugh, leaning over to kiss the sweet man's forehead as you remind him, "I haven't even told you her name yet."
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totaleclipse573 · 10 months
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What are some Eclipse headcanons you have?
I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED THIS MAKES ME VERY HAPPY HEHEHEEHHEH
Here's all the ones I have so far :
Like I've mentioned once before, after the hivemind was destroyed, all the noise in Eclipse's mind that he had gotten used to just suddenly disappeared. It felt unnatural and strange to him, and made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't like it at all. Talking out loud became a sort of coping mechanism, so now he just doesn't shut up. It annoys Shadow a bunch, but he lets Eclipse keep talking most of the time and just listens, since he knows it helps him.
The Dark Arms are like his "therapy animals," in a way. It's one of the reasons he loves them so much, they just make him feel really happy and safe.
Eclipse uses humor as a coping mechanism as well
Because of the imaginary redemption arc he got in my head, Eclipse's best friend is Sonic. Sonic helped him out a lot with all that. Plus, I just love the concept of them being smart individuals on their own, but when they're together, they actually share half a braincell. (All of Mobius FEARS THESE TWO ON APRIL FOOLS.)
When Eclipse was just created, he was a VERY curious kid. Like, he would just never stop asking questions, ever. He would also always try and find ways to get a lot of attention, specifically from Black Death. Also, I’m sure he’s tried to speak to the other Black Arms verbally and getting somewhat frustrated that they won’t answer, before realizing they can’t talk, and that he needs to use the hive mind. I’m sure of it.
Eclipse is very sensitive to the cold. If it gets too cold he’ll go into a kind of hibernation mode where he just falls asleep and doesn’t wake up until his body temperature is warm again (He has been shoved into the oven at least once during the winter.) He absolutely CANNOT go out into the snow without more than one snow jacket. And lastly, when Shadow knows he’s going to lose and argument to Eclipse, he gradually keeps turning down the AC at random points in the argument until Eclipse takes his little cold nap. Rouge has to put parental controls on the dang AC unit now. 
In present, I usually take Eclipse to be a little shorter than Shadow in height. But since Eclipse has more Black Arms DNA, he’ll eventually have a slight growth spurt that makes him a few inches taller than Shadow. Shadow will never hear the end of it after that. 
A lot of Eclipse's emotions can be best expressed through his tail movements. If he's happy or excited, it'll wag like a dog's. If he's afraid, it'll curl up and go between his legs. When shocked or spooked, it'll go completely straight (like those cartoon cats lol.) He can also use it to hang from stuff like trees like an opossum, which he does sometimes to scare the heck out of Shadow and get a good laugh out of it.
And...that's all the one's I can think of for now! I'm definitely open to hearing any other headcanons though!
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longhands-the-second · 11 months
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Trimax volume 2:
Here’s some thought soup.
Turns out I was actually able to wait to read until this week lol. I’m glad I did. I have a feeling this is only going to get more depressing from here on and I’m gonna need the pacing for my mental health.
So just… everything about Wolfwood here. He’s already better realized than pretty much the entirety of 98, I think (<- biased). I said “what the Fuck” out loud several times during this volume which is always fun. I’m going to do a second read before posting this so I can keep my thoughts in better order.
1- It’s at this point I think that maybe I should check the tws for this manga lol. Did this bother me? Not really. Am I scared of the potential now? Yes. Yes I Am. (I see that damn hand gore warning for a late volume and I am Dreading that shit)
Vash just looks so… soft here? I want to squish his cheeks so bad. It’s the power of Loose Button Down at work. A good weapon to have in your arsenal.
I hate it when you can just. Tell he’s making a promise that the narrative won’t let him keep.
On a reread the end of this volume makes more sense. Are they all…? I hope the fuck not.
2- Legato is really just getting more animalistic. There’s something off about him/his survival instincts but it’s kind of impossible to tell Exactly what it is without reading that far ahead. (Speaking of how uh. Explicit is his backstory? Do I need to make myself a nice cup of tea for after I finish reading that volume???)
I really, really appreciate that the gung-ho guns aren’t as one note as I expected. I have to wonder what got them all here, individually?
I wonder what specifically Vash thinks about Wolfwood here, what he knows and what he doesn’t. Is he like, aware that he saw what happened with the moon? Vash isn’t stupid, so I’m sure the thought crossed his mind that Wolfwood could’ve been working with Knives, but he’s also dead fucking set on seeing the best in people. Stay tuned, I guess.
Calling Vash selfish… there’s something there. He does have a tendency to ignore what people want when it comes to this kind of thing- which, yeah, that’s fair when it comes to killing people, but it’s also kind of not his place. Thinking very hard about the other post i saw this week about the end of the last volume.
Another thought that comes to mind is the way Vash thinks he’d just be letting things happen (therefore had some responsibility) in a lot of situations despite it being entirely on someone else. He refuses to just let it be. It makes sense given what happened to Rem, but I still have. Thoughts. He makes me so fucking sad.
The way Vash just fucking shuts down when they threaten Lina. None of them deserve any of this it makes me feel gross and bad.
3- How did he forget about the arm gun. That shit is the most important thing to remember smh
Where’s that one post that’s like “world where guns exist and swords are useless except in the hands of this one guy”
Literally impossible to follow the action but the punchline lands ig lmao
4- god this hurts. He just wants people to live. He just wants to live.
I think a lot of what this is about is sunk-cost, like somebody else mentioned. Digging your heels in further even if you know you’re wrong. I see in the gung-ho guns, Knives especially, but also definitely Vash. I haven’t fully former my thoughts on Vash yet though, i have to see where he goes from here to really make any judgements
God fucking damn it wolfwood. I know it made sense but MAN.
I love how angry Vash is allowed to get in the manga. He can really be scary sometimes.
People can’t change their minds if they’re dead. I think that’s the easiest way to summarize it.
I love how fucked up they are <3
Vash isn’t naive. He’s smart and he’s got years of experience to back him up. I know this. This is proof of it. But damn sometimes he really is incomprehensible in a way that makes me need the reminder.
GORLS
Hitchhiking on nomansland stresses me out as a concept.
5- wolfwood is really gonna rip my heart out isn’t he
“Vash can’t drive” saga (you’d think he’d be good at it given his other skills. Exposure maybe? I doubt he has frequent access to that kind of thing.)
They’re both fucking exhausted and YET-
I need to start a counter of times when i stop to go “oh vash is so pretty in this panel” but it’d be well over half of these posts
THAT IS NOT ONE OF THOSE PANELS
God he’s just zombie-ing his way through this isn’t he
The fucking limp wristed gun is everything to me
The missile is eepy and neebies to sleeby
6- obsessed with this version of home aesthetically.
Vash really just wants to be left alone. Grumpy old man.
Seriously though im in love with this whole setup. It’s beautiful.
It feels kind of illegal to be here though. Like we’re revisiting something that should be long gone. How much is this like the ship he grew up on?
He goes from the breaking point to being so excited to see everybody he’s crying. This physically fucking hurts to read
7- FUCKIN LEAVE HIM ALONE. GIVE HIM A GOD DAMN BREAK.
Literally this chapter makes me sick to my stomach i hate it i hate it
(Side Note, I have some colorings in the works, but it’s gonna be a WHILE until I get them finished. Very excited to share when I do though, I’ve been absolutely losing my shit about the love the others I’ve done have been getting from y’all. I see ur tags and they make my goddamn day. Thank you.)
((Additional Side Note, I am SO fucking excited to get my hands on the wwvd bracelets I ordered lol. I won’t be able to actually wear them for a few weeks though. I had to send it to my parents address. smh my head, man.))
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pinkpastels113 · 2 years
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from the chloe’s help
just another one of those “chloe beale would totally...” drabble moments, nothing to see here, move along…
(no but seriously this took forever to write and i kinda liked it, plus it was a distraction piece for me to get back into the roll for my fandom drive assignment so please let me know what you think? sjhgdjks)
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Nobody has ever said that Beca would be an exception to the pressures of everyday life, but still, she believed. Nobody has ever said that Beca would be the spared tree in a land picked for deforestation, but still, she believed.
Beca believed so hard in fact that sometimes she would be surprised when she would break down a week after a stressful event. It would be a perfectly normal afternoon, she would be making (a late) breakfast, and she would break down. Out of nothing; thin air, because the pressure had been the week before. 
Beca puts the knife down, leaving the avocado open on the cutting board. She sniffles, surprised at the wetness suddenly coating her eyes, and goes over to sit numbly on the living room couch.
She isn’t good enough, she will never be good enough.
Beca buries her head in her hands. Her mind spirals itself into tight circles, curling and uncurling from the ring that was conveniently formed. The voices start to pick at her sides, crawling into the dark insecurity, and Beca thinks she might just implode.
She isn’t strong enough, she will never be strong enough.
Beca blinks, her vision starting to blur vapidly into a smudged window. Her fingers are like blinds, she is peeking unseeingly through them, and it is like she is both the rain and the person looking through the rain as her tears blot her comprehension of the outside world. 
Whoever said she was ever important?
Someone sits down next to her. Beca can feel the cushion shift, but still she doesn’t move. She tells herself that she doesn’t care, not one bit, not one person not one thing not one career at all even as her heart aches for the claim otherwise.
“Beca.”
Beca feels her breath stutter. Someone envelops her up into their arms, disrupting her balance, and she crumples fast into their warmth. Her hands go from her eyes to wrapping around that person’s waist, and she sniffles instead into their shoulder. 
Chloe’s shampoo fills Beca’s airflow, suffocating her with the affection and love and kindness that only she seems to give. It is only then that Beca breathes what feels like the most unadulterated breath for weeks, maybe even months.
“Do you still feel I’m good enough?”
Chloe’s attention goes to Beca’s hair, caressing it, kissing it. She strokes each individual curl like it’s a delicate petal and Beca feels like she really can just drift away. 
She repeats what she always says when this happens, when Beca is so unsure of herself that she physically needs someone there to substantially lift her up.
“You is kind, you is smart, you is important. You are beautiful, Bec, and I will always be here to make sure that you know you are good enough.”
Beca hiccups, wiping her nose on the fold of Chloe’s collar. Her arms tighten around her anchor in the event that it might disappear. 
“Really?” Beca lifts her head to stare blurrily into Chloe’s eyes. She absolutely needs to know. The true, complete, honest, answer. “Do you really believe that?”
Chloe kisses the top of Beca’s forehead. Then her nose. Then her mouth. Beca couldn’t contain the smile that spreads across her face when she presses her lips there. 
“Yeah, I do.”
Chloe carefully pushes them forward, so that Beca can lean on her back against the soft couch cushions. The afternoon light filters in through the window that Beca is glad they didn’t get the curtains for to play with the fire that is Chloe’s hair. Chloe brushes away the remainder of Beca’s breakdown with the pad of her thumb. The actually tangible ring on her left hand tingles the skin of Beca’s cheek with its temperature but it only creates the opposite effect, seeing as Beca can already feel herself heating up.
“Chloe-” She swallows, waits. Beca knows that Chloe knows what she wants Chloe to say, and she wants her to say it.
She needs it, like her heart needs blood and air for it to survive.
“Yes, Beca, I think you are worthy of the love that you give and that I have to give for you. I would never lie to you. Well-” Chloe’s freckles scrunch adorably at the thoughtful amendment she is about to make, “Maybe over what time it is so that you would get out of bed, but only for about ten minutes or so.” She laughs heartily at Beca’s scandalized gasp, sobering up eventually by a nuzzle into Beca’s neck. 
The finishing touches are a whisper into Beca’s collarbone, but the seriousness of it and the implications of its promises are what provides her with the life jacket for Beca to go on,
“But no, I would never lie to you about anything like that.”
-----
fin.
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saiqherrr · 3 years
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.stay mine (c.)
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.content warning jealousy fuck, smut, nsfw, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, edging, use of the word slut, possessiveness
.pairing choso x fem!reader
.synopsis you're a shaman that works alongside geto, mahito and choso, doing a lot of dirty work for them. you get a little handsy on the job and choso has to punish you for it.
.a/n this is for a friend LOL. late birthday gift for her. this plot was so fun to work with. LMAO THIS IS SO LATE LIKE-  IT REALLY SHOULDN’T HAVE TAKEN ME THIS LONG. i also did not proof read so any errors will be fixed later on ok bye lollolololo
.WC 4.1K
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“C’MON, Y/N, LET’S PLAY FOR A LITTLE BIT LONGER.”
you rolled your finger around inside your itchy ear with blase eyes, annoyed with mahito’s childish pleading. fighting with him was fun and all, but he never knew when to take a break. “i already said no, mahito. i’ve been gone too long. my mission was simple and didn’t take long. they’re expecting me to be back.”
getou plunked down in an arm chair, a presumptuous grin on his face. no matter what was going on, he seemed to be entertained by the shenanigans around him. he was almost always relaxed, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him irate or upset that often. however, he carried a bothersome, condescending attitude. he didn’t bother you much, but when he spoke you wanted to deck him in the back of the neck sometimes.
“get back to work.”
you snapped your head at the recognizable, profound voice that came from the entryway of the hideout. you smirk once you saw choso’s face. “someone’s eager for me to leave.” thinking that you had let your guard down, mahito was preparing to land a kick to your head, yet your reflexes and fringe vision permit you to snatch him by the lower leg and pummel his body into the ground. “i said enough mahito.”
he madly giggles with a crazed look in his eyes. you shake your head and bring your attention away from him. choso approached you, his steps echoed throughout the big space.
“not eager, but you’re gonna screw shit up if you don’t get back there soon,” he warns you. he was right and you sighed while smiling, caressing his face and rubbing a finger under his drained eyes. he pushed your hands away gently. he didn’t favor being handsy like this in front of the others. “go.” with a huff, you fix your uniform a bit, flattening down your skirt, before walking out the entryway and making your way to jujutsu tech.
carrying on with this twofold life could get somewhat confounding at times. you were unable to translate who you truly were, however it didn't make any difference to you much. you simply needed to be any place choso was, or doing something for him. in the wake of saving your life in an oddity mishap involving your power and showing you the true worth of your cursed energy, he took you under his wing. he acquainted you to his little “group” that consisted of three other people; mahito, jogo, getou and hanami. you didn’t favor anyone besides choso, involuntarily attached to him and how he treated you. sentiments were reciprocated, being that he had met you subsequent to losing his brothers and you were the lone individual with a human heart that minded or could even feel genuine compassion by any means. everyone in this circle had goals, but you just wanted to be around choso.
sharing a bond together eventually lead to other relations. sexual relations. kissing him was like a drug. touching him was that of a blessing. being touched by him was a gift from god himself. growing up an orphan in and out of shelters your entire life, you had never felt true love, true affection, but you were sure this is what it was like with choso. as close as the two of you were, he kept his distance sometimes. conceivably in light of the fact that he didn’t want to lose you and find himself hurt again. he didn’t claim you as his or exclusively claimed you as his partner. he simply acknowledged you as “the thing he gets to fuck now and then.” you didn’t know if those words were supposed to hurt or not.
arriving back at jujutsu tech, you noticed it was fairly empty. the students must’ve been sent back to their dorms already. was there really a point in coming back here? you gave your report to masamichi and he thanked you graciously for handling the job. you were given the go to leave, but you were stopped in the hallway by a familiar face - one of your mentors. gojo satoru. he was the man you had to watch out for if you ever had to fight him at some point. he was the strongest shaman in the world and he could end your life in two seconds if he wanted to.
he was nine years older than you, looking good for his age of 28. he had a priggish smile on his face and he leaned against a wall, looking at you, even though his eyes were covered by a black blindfold. “hi, gojo,” you hesitantly greeted him.
“y/n,” he sung your name out as he sat up from the wall, inching closer to you with each steady step he took. “glad you came back safe from your mission.” he got uncomfortably close to you and you took two, small steps back.
“yeah...” you say softly. “did you need me for something?”
gojo chuckled before he took his blindfold off, revealing his magnificent, blue irises. you broke eye contact, suddenly feeling shy. “i do need something from you, but...you’re young. i don’t know if you’d shy away from the idea or not.” his voice was nearing a whisper, his tone was teasing.
you were frozen in place, not sure how to respond to his lewd words. could this get you any more information than you already had? no, this could possibly form a bond between the two of you. a faux trust. he’d never suspect you if you got close enough to him.
you’re entire demeanor changed, feigning a seductive smile while bringing your hand to his cheek. “i’m young, but i’m legal, gojo,” you say as your eyes land on his lips that were coated with lip balm, making them appear glossy. “and experienced,” you add.
you don’t know what you were expecting but you felt your heart dive to the lower part of your stomach when gojo had set his cherry-flavored lips on yours. you didn’t kiss back, eyes wide open, too in shock to give him a proper reaction. the only one who ever kissed you was choso. choso. but you couldn’t fully see the harm in it...
you couldn’t see any harm in getting into gojo’s car, stepping into his home, stripping naked in front of him, having him impale your hole with his long cock, having him kiss your lips with hunger, having him leave hickeys along your neck, collarbone and breasts... he even promised to keep you around. you didn’t see the harm in it at all. he must’ve had his eye on you for some time - he fucked you like a feral animal, but he whimpered like a bitch like he had been dying to plunge his dick inside of your wet cunt for months.
after a short cat-nap, you woke up besides gojo. he snored lightly, no blankets over his half- bare body and he had his back to you. you decided it was a good time to leave, getting off the king-sized bed and picking up your garments that were sprawled on the floor. you freshened up in his bathroom, got dressed and left his house without waking him.
you took a taxi to get to the area in which the hideout was in, careful not to let anyone get to close. you walked along the trail until you approached the broken door of the soiled house, wondering when they’ll be switching locations. it was late, but getou, mahito and choso were up playing a board game in the assumed living room.
getou’s slanted eyes rolled up to look at you. “you’re back later than usual.”
“yeah...” choso mumbles. his back was turned to you as he was analyzing the game they were playing, ensuring that his next move was a smart one.
mahito chuckles when he sees you. “surprised you were gone for so long, y/n. you hate being departed from your choso-kun,” he teases. you feigned exacerbation and chuckled. “where were you?”
“with gojo,” you answered him nonchalantly.
“oh?” getou’s head rose to fully look at you. 
choso’s neck turned to take a gander at you. his stresses over the game had immediately disseminated and he was more worried with regards to why you looked so unkempt and had hickeys scattered around your neck. “did you fuck him?”
“yeah.” you dropped your belongings on a chipped, wooden table. you yawned while taking off the tight, uniform jacket, pulling it off of your arms with your as clothes. “thought it’d be good to keep him wrapped around my finger so that he trusts me mor-”
those strong, pragmatic reflexes from earlier today had bombed you just now, for you were cut off by your own gasp when choso had pulled you by the collar of your white dress shirt. his knuckles became white and his dark strands of hair that curtained his face scarcely concealed the compromising glare that his cold  eyes were giving you.
betrayal, all choso could feel was betrayal. sure, you weren’t his partner and he couldn’t bring himself to claim you as his, but he didn’t expect you to go out and fuck someone other than him. it was a selfish assumption, but choso was too caught up in the moment to give a damn about being fair right now.
“so you gave your body away to some fucking stranger?!” choso fervently reprimanded you, fixing the grasp on your shirt. mahito watched with a goofy smile on his face while getou put a hand to his temple, cocking his head to the side as if he was trying to predict what would happen next.
“i-i-i...ch-choso...he’s n-not a stranger... i thought-” you stammered on your words, frightened by the way he manhandled you. choso never wanted to hurt you before. he brought his free hand, raising it up in the air before the back of his lanky hand hit against your cheek, causing you to yelp as your eyes began to burn with fresh tears.
he scoffs when he notices you’re on the verge of crying. he lets go of your shirt and grabs a handful of your hair before yanking your head as he walked out of the living room, going up the squeaky, unstable steps of the house.  it felt like a thousand needles had hit your scalp as he dragged you by your hair up into the empty bedroom. the room, for the most part, was empty excluding a decent mattress that you had been sleeping on for the past few nights. he threw you onto the mattress after slamming the door shut.
“since when did you become a slut?” he snaps at you. you swallowed at his words as you sat up on the mattress. after locking the door he comes to the bed to lean over you, push you down, and snatch your wrists. one was pinned above your head while the other was pinned beside it. he had your body caged and all you could do was ball your hands up into fists and look away to avoid his menacing gaze. “answer me.”
“choso, did i hurt you?” you gave answered his question with a question. he narrowed his eyes as he studied your appearance. your face was covered in desperation, obviously flushed from getting pinned down this way. although you looked away, your guilt-ridden eyes came back to him, holding innocence. your nipples were showing through your dress shirt and and the hickeys on your skin just made you look ten times more obscene than you already did.
“you disgust me...” he sneered, nostrils flaring with anger. both of you were terrible at answering questions. he gripped your wrists tighter, he might as well have ripped your skin. “your body is diseased. are you fucking proud of yourself?”
your breath hitched, the insults hurt more than the slap he gave you moments ago. you felt extremely humiliated by the fact that this slander was slipping out from his lips with no problem. “i didn’t feel like i belonged to you...” your voice was laced with shame and inferiority.
“but you do.” his words had your mind spinning a mile a minute, confused because his actions didn’t align with this statement. they also had you spinning for another reason: you were suddenly in heat, legs squirming once you felt yourself drooling with juices. everything about this was embarrassing, you couldn’t help the fact that being degraded like this was so fucking hot. you even frowned when one of his hands let go of one of your wrists. he looks down to see your legs moving and lifts up your skirt to find you dampening your cotton panties. “you’re getting off to this, aren’t you?” you didn’t answer him, closing your eyes shut as you tried to hump yourself instead. he shifted his knee in between your legs and it just barely brushed against your warmth.
“choso, please...i want you. i want to show you i’m sorry,” you whined, still squirming in his grasp. you grinded yourself against his knee, panting heavily with desperation. “i’m so sorry...”
choso was tired of your bitching, growing more irritated by the second, yet yearning for you all at the same time. he wanted to teach you a lesson. he needed to. how dare you assume you could fuck anyone else besides him just because he didn’t claim you? he hoped that you’d know just by a mutual feeling, but maybe he expected too much from you. you were still dense, young and highly immature. he found you to be somewhat of an airhead sometimes. for fuck’s sake, you couldn’t even process that what choso was feeling was simply envy and betrayal right now.
he pulled down his pants, full taking them off before rubbing himself through his boxers, groaning at how it stood against his thigh, pulsating for her. he hated that he was aroused by her in this state. he truly wanted to just hate you, he really did. but he couldn’t. he needed you just as much as you needed him.
your hand reached out to touch his face but he slapped it away harshly. “choso, say something, please,” you whined once more, fully ticking him off at this point. he took off his underwear swiftly before grabbing you by your hair again. 
he stood on his knees, guiding your head to face his stiff, cock. he didn’t want to hear you right now. the only thing he wanted to hear was you slobbering his dick with your wet mouth. he wanted to hear you gagging and choking on his throbbing dick. he poked your lips with his flushed tip that was considerably a dark hue than the remainder of his length. you parted your lips to give him access into your mouth. your cheeks went hollow as you began to suck him off, fisting whatever you couldn't reach with your small hands. you didn’t expect much from this until his tip kissed the back of your throat, daring to go any farther.
for the first time, he pushed your head down, forcing you to take every inch of his cock inside your wet, warm mouth. he murmured with fulfillment as he watched your throat swell, mouth completely loaded down with his veiny cock. nothing else could be heard in the room other than the vulgar regurgitating and gargling that came from your mouth. his balls slapped against your chin rhythmically as he began to slowly buck his hips. spit trickled down to your chin, tears littered in the corner of your eyes - he was ruthless with the way he face fucked you, not seeing you as the person he cared so deeply for. you were simply just a cocksleeve to him right now. your jaw ignited with torment as it began to ache, your throat inflamed, air consistently being dissuaded. meanwhile, choso shamelessly grunted and groaned, feeling anything but discomfort. your mouth took his cock so well each time it slid down. he put a hand on your neck just to feel himself encroach the walls of your throat with each thrust.
a violent and desperate scratch on his thigh was all it took for him to stop. he pulled away from your mouth and you gasped as you fell back onto the mattress, trying to receive as much air as you possibly could. you went into a hacking fit, holding your sore throat with half-lidded eyes.
he watched you recover, rolling his eyes at how pathetic you look. “i bet if gojo asked you to take i down like that you would, right?” his words sounded like white noise, your brain excessively fluffed out to fathom anything he said to you.
“keep talking to me like that...” you responded to him in a raspy voice, standing up on your knees, supporting the scruff of his neck as you inclined in to suck on spots you knew by heart.
he looked down at you like you had lost your fucking mind. he might’ve completely broke you - or maybe you had enjoyed this all along and didn’t know until now. “bet you hiked up your skirt in front of the bastard on purpose, yeah? desperate for some fucking attention, selling yourself out like the slut you are, hm?”
he pulled your skirt off of your legs while your lips were still latched onto his pale flesh, giving it splotches of color with every love mark you left on him. your thigh highs that concealed your legs remained on for choso’s own pleasure. you took one hand and unfastened your dress shirt, uncovering your exposed bosoms under it and choso helped to pull it off of your arms. his hand then reached to the space between your thighs, pinching your skin in numerous places before rubbing two fingers against wet core. your cunt was so swollen that he could see the outline of your lips pressing against the cotton of your underwear. 
he grabbed the back of your neck and gently pressed the sides of it with his fingers, pulling you off of his skin. his lustful eyes gazed into yours. “you’re mine and you’re gonna stay mine. you belong to me...say it with me.” his two fingers have now pushed aside your panties, slowly rubbing your puffy clit.
“you belong to me.”
“i belong to you.”
and he was going to make sure you didn’t forget it.
he dipped his fingers right into your core at the sound of your voice, causing you to go weak in the knees, holding onto his chest for momentum. you fell like a feather when he pushed you down onto the mattress, head rolling as you felt his fingers massaging your walls. you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth and your top lip, just barely biting the flesh, closing your eyes. choso’s fingers were coated in your juices as they plunged into your hole repeatedly. he moved them in a scissoring motion, procuring a few whimpers from you. you squirmed as his fingers stretched your opening and he held you down by pushing down on your thigh. his fingers pecked your g-spot before he was deliberately ramming into it, bringing you closer to your release.
“i’m gonna’...i’m gonna cum!” you cried, setting yourself up for overpowering delight you were going to feel, just to be left on the edge of your climax when choso pulled out your fingers. you mindlessly reached for his wrist, trying to pull him back to your cunt but he pulled away aggressively with a smirk on his face. your cunt clenched around nothing, desperately yearning for a release.
his fingers hastily flicked your clit, sending waves of euphoria throughout your body, your orgasm just two or three flicks away and once he sees your straining face, he stops again.
“fuck choso! fucking quit it!” you were more frustrated than aroused, on the verge of losing your fucking mind.
“sluts don’t get to-”
he couldn’t finish his sentence because you had suddenly straddled him, your legs on either side of one of his legs as you gripped onto his shoulders. a chill ran down his spine once he felt your bloated, drooling cunt on his bare skin. you frantically humped his thigh, not giving a shit about how pathetic you looked.
choso watched you throw your head back as you drove yourself to your climax. you needed it so bad. you’d probably kill for this fucking orgasm. choso felt your thighs vibrating viciously against his leg as you drew nearer to your delivery, the speed of your hips wavering without wanting to. he chose to be permissive and snatched your hips, grating your hot cunt against his skin. 
“if you’re gonna cum, then cum already...” he aggressively encouraged her through a hushed voice, panting as her body brushed against his aching cock.
“i’m cumming, i’m-” you screwed your eyes shut once you felt every cell of your body completely evaporate for one quick second before coming back all at once. your toes curled, your grip on his shoulders got tighter and your stomach convulsed uncontrollably. you felt embarrassed by the fact that he could make you so desperate, so needy, yearning for pleasure.
“greedy fucking bitch...” he growled. the whines that whimsically got away from your lips had moved toward a boisterous, broken moan that you both were certain mahito and getou heard from ground floor. choso’s leg was now a sticky mess, your fluids smeared all over his leg as you continued to ride out your orgasm. “...cumming before i could even fuck you.”
he let you relax for a bit, your head laying on his shoulder as you panted heavily, pussy still clenching around a cock that wasn’t there, still being greedy as ever. he lifted your hips, situating his cock below your entrance before slowly sliding you down his length. your breath hitched, voice abruptly non-existent as you attempted to groan, however nothing came out.
his hips moved upwards with very little strength, for he depended on you to ride him. his hot breath fanned over your sweaty skin as he breathed heavily. he exploited the couple of inches you had over him and gotten one of your firm areolas in the middle of his teeth, nibbling on it. he hungrily began to suck on your breasts, switching between the two when he got tired of one. your body shuddered every time his warm mouth would switch to the other breasts, leaving the other cold. his lips latched onto the skin around your nipple and began to suck harshly, leaving purple-ish red marks on your derma. he made sure to leave his mark on you, ensuring that the next time gojo stripped you of your clothes, he’ll see reminders of who you really belong to.
you rolled your hips to his liking, his cock feverishly invading your insides, feeling him in your lower stomach. you hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm, yet you somehow found some the strength to began bouncing yourself on his dick. each time you came down on his cock, it pushed a ribald moan from your throat.
choso didn’t rely on you anymore and he began to buck his hips upwards with a quick pace, almost animalistically. “i’m gonna cum in this pussy...” he whispered while your waist was seized by his calloused hands. “you wanna feel all my fucking cum, right?”
you attempted to give him response, but your voice, again, failed you and all you could do was moan and nod your head. choso wasn’t accepting that.
“use your words.”
“i’m...i...i want you, i wanna feel a-all your fucking cum,” you blabbered before the rest of your words came out incoherent.
you both were coated with sweat, bodies glistening under the very little moonlight that had poured through the dirty windows of the room. you felt another layer rise on your skin as choso continued to impale your pussy with his cock.
“gonna keep all of it in, yeah?”
you nodded quickly, tangling your fingers in his raven locks of hair as you were reaching another orgasm. “’m gonna cum...” you whimpered, eyes closed, head thrown back.
“cum with me,” he whispered before he delivered his last few thrusts to you, bringing the both of you to a simultaneous release. strings of his cum spurted inside of your cunt, filling you up to the brim. he lays your limp body down and thrusts himself inside of you a few more times to ensure that every last drop stayed in. you muscles clenched, desperately trying to take it all, but some inevitably slid down your sore hole.
choso had come to the realization that it was impossible to be mad at you for long, after all, you were artless. none of that mattered anymore, you were under his control now and there wasn’t anyone who could change that, not even gojo. the cum that clogged your cunt was a reminder that you were his and now you had no reason to believe different.
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keiyoomi · 3 years
Note
Hello
How are you doing ??
If its possible can you make the 13 + william james moriarty? Ty
“What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!”
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“What do you mean you’re sick?! You’re my partner in crime!”
Maybe you were expecting him to always be in a perfect condition. But in reality, despite his intelligent mind that seems to see what the future holds, he’s still human who could be vulnerable to any diseases.
“What happened to the immortal William James Moriarty?” you asked while moving in an exagerrated way.
Louis, Moran, and even Fred ignored your actions. Actually, Fred walked away when you began reciting some ridiculous lines in front of William’s door. Bond, well. he* was touched by how you care for William, until she remembered some of those lines you’ve recited.
“Y/N, you can just enter his room,” Old Man Jack, William’s teacher and as well as yours, said while smiling at you. “I’m glad to see you in person instead of just reading your name on the newspaper.”
You grinned. “Teacher, do you want me to pester you again like I used to do?”
“You rascal,” he said with affection. He ruffled your hair and smiled gently at you. “Go on now. Take this to that stubborn child.”
“I will, teacher.” You took the tray from his hand before knocking on the door. Ah, no. Barging inside Little Wil’s dark and gloomy room. “Oh, Willy!”
Much to your dismay, he was already sitting on his bed with a frown on his face. His scarley eyes were displeased and if it wasn’t for his throbbing head, he would’ve probably attacked you with his sharp dagger by the time you open the door.
“Oh come on.” You made your way towards him and settled the tray on his lap. “I thought you’d welcome me with your lanky arms wide open.”
“Yes, I will definitely do that. Before wringing your neck after not showing yourself for years.”
You cluck your tongue upon hearing him whine. “I apologize for making a name for myself.”
“And you’ve successfully done that. But you’ve also gained enemies that is beyond your capabilities!” Then, he cough. You rubbed his back to calm him down, but it seemed to fan his rage. “What would you do if they hire someone to catch and torture you? Or worse, kill you?”
You looked down on your lap as guilt seeped through your being. To be honest, you didn’t pay much attention to the consequences of your actions. Robbing those wealthy, yet heartless nobles helped thousands of people all over the country. There were orphanages, public hospitals, and even smart individuals that you’ve managed to support for years. In a way, you’ve managed to save their lives. In your own twisted, yet good way.
But as you glanced at your childhood friend’s direction, you suddenly feel guilty for your selfless actions.
“I haven’t...” You rubbed the back of your neck. “...thought of that. Not yet, at least.”
“See?!” He grabbed your hand, as tight as he could. “Stay here until I’m feeling better.”
“That’s what I’m planning to do.”
“And stay here until I tell you to leave.”
“Huh?” You looked at him with disbelief. “What are you talking about? No.”
He rubbed his forehead, as if to relieve his headache. “Let’s further discuss this issue once I’m better.”
“This Phantom’s doctor’s fee would cost you your fortune!”
“Will you take this more seriously or would you prefer if Phantom disappears permanently?”
You kept your mouth shut.
Will glanced at you as you frown. For the first time, in a long while, he finally won against your stubborness. And this wouldn’t be the last time.
He’ll win this war of stubborness against you.
Whether by hook or by crook!
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saphirered · 3 years
Note
Heyo! Saw you wanted some individual character requests! I'm a sucker for Grog, and there isn't enough out there for him, so I was wondering if you could do a Grog x Sorceress!reader where the reader doesn't think grog would have a reason to like her since she isn't a melee fighter. Thank you so much!
P.s. Your writing is amazing, and I always love reading your works! ❤️
Thank you for the request! I'm glad you like my writing and hope you enjoy this one! Turned out a bit longer than I intended but that means more content. Anyway, Enjoy! 😘
Seated on the stone balustrade feet dangling over the edge looking over the city in front of you you twiddle your thumbs. You needed a moment away from everyone to sort your mind on your own. There’s a solitude in the dark clouds looming above and the first drops of rain signalling an oncoming storm and it’s never failed you before. Even while there’s no one around, you can confide in such storms knowing your words will be heard but carried away upon the wind and drowned out by the rain and thunder. A good storm won’t judge or hold a grudge. It will simply accept and listen. So here you’ll stay speaking your worries into the abyss and hope for some clarity or ease of mind and heart.
Back inside Grog sits on one side of the table, Scanlan at the other. They hold their respective tankards at the ready as the gnome counts down. By the end of the countdown they swing back their drinks finishing them as fast as they can being cheered on by the rest of Vox Machina and other witnesses to this drinking game. Grog’s determined to win this. While he’s pretty sure his tankard is actually a bucket with a handle, it’s more to scale compared to the gnome’s. Ale spills over the sides of Scanlan’s drink but Grog keeps it neat. No wasting ale after all.
With one last big chug Grog finishes the drink, slams it down on the table roaring in victory as the table shakes beneath his hit. Scanlan puts the remainder of his drink down on the table wiping his face disappointed. Grog looks around the crowd. Some are happy celebrating with him, others pass over money to the happy people for paying up on whatever amount they lost in their bets. How could they even consider Scanlan would win. He’s the best of the best after all and no one can out drink the all mighty Grog. He doesn’t spot you among the crowd and the victory doesn’t feel as sweet anymore. He really hoped you could have seen this one. Where had you gone?
Before Grog can get up and go find you he’s given a refill and the next challenger approaches. New bets are placed, Vex massages his shoulders giving him a pep talk and noting how he’s been making her a lot of money so better keep it up. He doesn’t want to disappoint his friends. One more game. Then he’ll go find you wherever you went.
The next game comes along, and another, and another but he’s done. No more games. When another challenger approaches and the game starts he doesn’t pick up the tankard and pushes away from the table. People ask him what the hell he’s doing but he ignores them. They’ve kept him long enough so he just up and walks before they can stop him. Grog leaves the room but Pike follows behind him worried for her buddy. He never refuses a good ale or a challenge, let alone the two combined.
“Grog? Grog, wait up!” Pike rushes after him leaving the banquet hall behind. Determined Grog still keeps walking but slows down his pace enough to let Pike catch up with him.
“Where are you going? There’s still plenty of ale to be drunk!” Pike reaches for the goliath’s hand to pull him to a stop. He does and turns to face Pike.
“I think I’ve had enough.” Grog says and Pike gasps. Never, never does Grog think he’s had enough to drink. Something must be wrong with him. Is he ill? Does he have a fever? Did someone poison her buddy’s drink? She might go on a war path if someone did and ruined his fun! But Grog seems okay. Physically that is. He’s fine.
“Do you know where she went?” Grog asks, maybe Pike can help him find you and maybe she can talk to you why you left. He doesn’t think you’d want to talk to him about that kind of stuff and while he’d consider himself a good listener, if something’s really up Pike always knows what to do. She can help.
“Who?”
“The pretty sorceress.” Grog states as a matter of fact and it is. Anyone who dares say otherwise clearly need some of those glass thingies Percy keeps on his nose and make him look smart.
“Oh, I don’t know Grog. She left to go get some fresh air.” Pike searches her mind to see where you might have gone. There’s a few places that come to mind but it’s all narrowed down to just the one when thunder rumbles through the sky. She knows exactly where you went and by the looks of it so does Grog.
Grog knows there’s only one place you really love to watch a storm unfold. You’ve told him before and you’ve even watched some storms together there. He shares a look with Pike and picks up his step going where he knows you’ll be, still dragging pike behind. When she doesn’t move fast enough he swings her up on his shoulders, running up the steps as far as they’ll take him, dodging a torch and pushing aside a guard here and there.
Then around the corner he sees you. Feet dangling over the edge, a single push away from what could possibly be a death drop, hand outstretched catching the rain with a sad smile on your face. You’re absolutely gorgeous. More alluring than anyone ever could. If he could paint, Grog would make sure this moment would be captured for eternity just so he would never forget. Maybe he can get some money from Vex to hire a painter? If Scanlan did it, why shouldn’t he?
You’re seated alone at the top of the tower. Lightning flashes through the clouds, sometimes branching down to strike the ground be it mountain or forest, you’re in a valley of safety surrounded by the storm. The drops of rain hit your outstretched arm extended beyond the cover of the overhanging. Cold as they are to the touch you watch them glide around your arm with movement until they too, continue their descend.
“…Sometimes I wish I would just have the courage but I don’t.” You speak into the skies. A burst of lightning strikes in the mountains, the sound echoing and even this high up you can feel the slight tremor of the ground. You know a storm is no sentient being but you read it like a reply no less and continue.
“I’m not a fighter. I don’t know how to wield a sword or an axe. I can barely lift one. We have such vastly different lives. Grog’s got no reason to like me in any way.” Thunder strikes again you smile briefly. You’ve come to terms you’ll always like Grog and your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. The only reason you’re even spending time together in the first place is because you’re both involved with Vox Machina in one way or another. You’ve got hardly anything in common so if you hadn’t met through them Grog probably wouldn’t even have thought about you twice.
That may sound sad and you’re thankful for getting to know him but Grog has his own life and interests so why should he bother indulging you in yours. He’s already not a big fan of magic and you won’t bother attempting to teach him. It’s not like it’s any interesting stuff and he’d probably be bored out of his mind the entire time. Then again, the theoretics of magic might just not be your strong suit either. It’s more of a natural born gift.
Grog gets this weird feeling in his chest as if he’s been hit by something and it’s being twisted. Kind of like when he got shot by an arrow and Pike had to remove it. It’s not a good feeling. Checking for injury just to make sure he’s fine. It’s clear to him he feels this on the inside; his heart bleeds a little for you. You shouldn’t think that way. He likes you. He likes you a lot actually so you couldn’t be more wrong. Pike nudges him to set her down. He does as they remain around the corner, leaving you unaware of their presence.
“Go talk to her.” Pike whispers and Grog panics for a brief second. How is he even supposed to do this? What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t know how this psychology stuff works. That’s what Pike’s for. If people feel sad they often come to her, talk about their worries and problems and then they feel better. How’s he supposed to do that? He’s not Pike.
“She needs you, Grog. I know you like her and she needs you. Go talk to her.” Pike nudges him on into your direction. The goliath isn’t physically moved by her effort but he does move. If Pike says you need him, if you really need him then he’ll be there. Looking over his shoulder one last time to ask Pike for some advise she’s already half way down the stairs leaving you with him. Grog thinks hard for a moment but thinking isn’t his strong suit either so he’ll do what he always does; face the problem head on.
A throat clears behind you and you almost slip from the fright it gave you. A heavy step rushes forward and an arm wraps around your waist pulling you back before you can fall. You’d have spells to save you in case you did fall but you’d rather not and are grateful for your valiant saviour. The bare arm wrapped around your waist is covered in tattoos, markings and scars and engulfs the majority of your middle. It doesn’t take a fool to know this arm belongs to Grog Strongjaw himself.
Flustered you allow the goliath to pull you back onto solid ground and off the balustrade entirely before he lets go of you, making sure you’re right on your feet. How much of your conversation with the skies did he hear? Did he hear anything at all? Grog steps back and stares at his boots. He doesn’t only appear to be more embarrassed than you feel but also apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please don’t fall again and please don’t be angry at me.” Grog closes his eyes tightly afraid you might be mad at him as he was the cause of you almost experiencing a death drop. You’re basically gods but if we’ve learned anything from Keyleth; that doesn’t save you from a splat.
You step forward grab one of his hands in yours drawing his attention. With your index finger you tilt his chin up just enough so he’s looking at you and not over you. These gestures are enough for Grog to open his eyes. When there’s no look of anger on your face the tension in his body falls away just slightly. There’s still some rigidness from nerves but he’s closer to usual Grog.
“Chin up, big guy. You saved me too. I’m not mad.” You smile and the smile is returned. The air is still somewhat awkward so you decided you best get this over with and clear it up.
“How much did you hear?” You ask. The blush rushing to Grog’s cheeks and frantic glancing around to make sure no one else is here to witness it tells you he heard enough.
With a deep sigh you step back to the balustrade sitting down upon it once more but now to face Grog instead of the sky, your hair blowing lightly in the breeze, the rain and occasional illuminated sky behind you leave him staring yet again forgetting your question. He’s just captivated but you calling his name snaps him out of it. Saved it. Still got it. As long as he doesn’t turn to ‘drunk Keyleth’ levels he’ll consider it a win.
“I-uhhhh…. Why don’t you think I like you?” Grog twiddles his thumbs rocking back and forth from his tiptoes to his heels in anticipation of your answer. He knows he heard you tell the sky but he wants to be sure because if he gave you any reason to believe he didn’t like you, he did do something wrong. He’ll pick you over any of those other fools down stairs. He might just even pick you over the best ale. He’d already picked you over the ale he’d been offered. If that isn’t testament to his fondness of you, then what is?
“Ah, so you did hear that. I just- I think-. Ugh, why is this so hard?” You try to express your reasons but words are difficult and feelings even more so to describe yet still you try. Grog waits patiently either way.
“Do you think we would have been friends were it not for our lives being tied together as they are now?” You ask the dreaded question. You don’t even know if you really want the answer afraid that it may break any semblance of hope you had somewhere in your mind. Grog’s brow furrows, deep in thought but mostly confusion.
“Of course we would be. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter. I stay back with my spells and incantations while you run in axe swinging taking down anyone in your path. I read while you train. I sit around in my tower watching the skies while you go out and drink the town dry looking for a fight to enjoy. I could never do what you do and I do not dare to assume you’d have any interest in doing what I do.” The thoughts and feelings find words. A tension lifts from your chest like a breath you didn’t know you were holding just by speaking your mind to the goliath in question.
Grog knows damn well you’re not a fighter in the traditional sense. No steel or arrows for you but that does not mean you’re not a fighter in your own right. If he’s learned anything a fighter comes in many shapes and forms and you fit the description perfectly. You’ve shown determination and strength, courage against all odds and immense skill. You are a fighter.
“When I run into danger kicking ass who’s had my back every time?” Grog asks. There’s a harshness and authority in his voice indicating he’s leading somewhere and you better answer.
“We all have-“ Grog cuts you off.
“No. You have had my back every time.” He corrects. “Who comes watch me train, throwing spells to keep me on my toes? Who does it while reading her books completing not one but two tasks at the same time?”
“I do.” You admit.
“And who helps me kick ass in bar fights? Who cheers me on or joins me in any gamble or drinking game? Who is the best drinking buddy? You are. Now, who spends time with you watching storms whenever they occur up here in the tower or anywhere else?”
“You… do…” Grog’s right.
“I like to spend time with you because I like you. I don’t care you don’t swing an axe. That firestorm you do works just the same and looks way more badass. I’m not the smartest but I know two of the same are not always useful and can be too much. What are you going to do with two when you only need one. You need difference so they compitry- complitarity- colmpli-“ Grog struggles with that word. He’s heard Percy use it in a similar context but why is it such a difficult word to recall. He still tries and just hopes you’ll get what he’s trying to say.
“Complimentary?” You ask. You fear Grog might get himself a migraine if he tries any harder. You still don’t think that’s the correct use of the word but you get it. He’s trying to lift your spirits and it’s working.
“That one. Yes. Complimentary. I don’t just like you, I love you for who you are. You’re special and being different makes you special.” Grog admits he tries to fight the heat rising to his cheeks from admitting what he did but when he sees your smile grow, that’s enough to push his pride aside and let it be. Maybe he can do this thing Pike usually does after all? Maybe not unless it’s you. When he tells you he loves you he means it. When he has to say it to the likes of Vax he’d rather eat his own boots for lunch.
You gesture with your hand and beckon the goliath over to come closer. You rise to stand on the edge of the balustrade and wrap your arms around Grog’s neck holding him close. You feel his arms wrap around you in turn and pull you closer to where your feet barely touch the stone.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” You pull back to look Grog in the eyes as he still holds onto you and take his cheeks between your hands giving him a quick kiss. Grog’s eyes light up and lifts you up higher offering you a kiss of his own. Sweet and short and filled with glee. He sets you back down on your feet but doesn’t let go of you yet.
“Do you want to go back downstairs? Last I checked there was a drinking game going on? Should we show them what we’re made off?” You grin and the proud look on Grog’s face tells you enough to know exactly what you’re talking about.
“Let me tell you the tale of my grand victories-“ Grog starts as he begins leading you back down the stairs, arm wrapped around your shoulders pulling you into his side as you walk.
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Text
Killer instinct
A/n: Slight themes of s/a, Mori just being a creep to the reader, so if that is triggering for you, please be mindful.
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There was a sense of reverence that fell over the members of the port mafia as you entered, Chuuya at your side and the black lizard closely behind you. There was a full hush that blanketed the room, broken only by the sure sound of your boots on the marble floors. Each and every person you could see was a trained killer, deadly sharp tactician, scanning you as if analyzing just how much of a threat you'd pose to them if you decided to turn on them then and there. Not that you could blame them, after all, you were doing the same thing. The words of your long dead mother echoed in your head, a reminder as well as a warning:
Never enter unfamiliar territory without first finding a way out.
It would be hard to hide if you needed to in a place like this. You stuck out like a sore thumb among the polished and put together people around you, your clothes dirty and torn in some places, eyes sunken in from lack of sleep, faint scars criss - crossing the skin of your shoulders and arms, growing scarcer until they gradually dissipated around your wrists. Chuuya hadn't noticed them before, but it was clear that those were no ordinary scars. No. Those were the markings that came with mastering an ability, of fighting to survive the way every person in that room had done. They revered you because you had not only survived, you had made a name for yourself among the most powerful, most dangerous individuals in the city. As far as criminal activity goes, you'd made it. And now, each and every member could rest a little easier knowing that you'd agreed to joining them.
Y/n L/n, queen of the underground, and now, fledgling member of the Port Mafia. You were feared just as much as you were respected, and your immaculate reputation would prove...useful.
At least, that was Mori's thought process as you stepped into his office, seated with his back to you as you entered. Rising from his chair, he strode smoothly over to you, pulling your hand from your side and holding it between his own. You stiffened noticeably, your body reacting to the sudden and unfamiliar touch. His hands were colder than death itself, his unsettling smile stretching as he noticed your visible discomfort.
"Welcome, my dear, to the Port Mafia. I do believe you'll find your place here rather quickly, smart girl that you are. It is so refreshing to see people make the smart decisions for once in their pitiful lives, realizing there really is no way out once we have our sights set on you."
If you weren't scared before, you definitely were now. So they'd been watching you. That in and of itself didn't shock you, you had accepted assignments from Mafia members before. But something about the way he said it set off alarms in your head, body tight and ready to run. Instead, you ripped your hand away and did your best to conceal the fear that was rippling through you. The fear Mori had already seen.
"In the future," you answered coldly, "you'll do well to remember not to touch me unless you'd like to loose that limb. And like I told your little henchman here," you said, nodding to Chuuya, "I'm not here for any of you. I'm here for my own personal benefit, and once I've bled you dry for everything you can give me, we'll go back to me being just as much a thorn in your side as anyone else."
Your gaze was hard and firm as you stared down the leader of the port mafia, his eyes cold as he stared back. Like dogs, the two of you stood across from each other, teeth bared in a warning to the other. In another moment, Mori nodded to Chuuya, signaling to him that he could go. Chuuya, glad to be leaving the prickly atmosphere of Mori's office, readily took the opportunity, but he couldn't deny the fear that he felt for you as he took one last glance at your precarious position. No one, in all his years with the port mafia, had ever spoken to Mori that way.
As soon as he was gone, Mori's hand was once again on your skin, this time encircling your wrist in a vice like grip. You tried not to wince as he pulled you into him sharply, winding his other arm around your waist so tightly that you couldn't move no matter how hard you tried. For a moment, he simply stared at you, eyes roaming over your face, gaze creeping over your collarbone, tracing the lines of your body so intensely that you felt your could feel his hand over your body even though he hadn't moved an inch.
"Do I frighten you, then? You seem so apprehensive to be near me...truly, I hope to change that. But for now, my precious y/n, I'll be content with assigning you your first job." Finally, he relased his hold on you allowing you to step away from him as he spoke. "We have a contact from outside the country who is handing off some very essential documents to us this evening. You'll accompany Chuuya to the meeting point, and get the package safely back here. Simple enough, but I'd like to make sure I can trust you."
Nodding, you turned to go, legs taking long steps over the cold floor. Unlike in the lobby, where the silence was a mark of your power and reputation, with Mori, you both new who was in charge. He made you feel small, like you were a cowering little girl again, and you hated it.
"Oh, and y/n," he called, teasing smirk on his face so different than the charming, playful one Chuya often donned.
"Don't disappoint me."
/
Getting to the drop point was the easy part. Down at the harbor, you and Chuuya set your sights on a shifty looking man pacing about with a worn briefcase in hand. Approaching him, you watched Chuuya slip the money into his hands, and make a move to leave.
Unfortunately for the both of you, that's where your luck ran out.
With a sharp whistle from the man behind you, five huge men emerged from your surroundings, the area secluded and dark enough that no one could see any of you. That was both the advantage and disadvantage of working under the cover of darkness: On the one hand, no one could see what you did to your enemies. On the other, no one could see what they did to you.
As the first spray of bullets errupted, you felt Chuuya shove you to the side, rolling instinctively to the side and under a bush where you could regroup for a slip second. Looking around, you noticed the man you'd dealt with had vanished. The son of a bitch had been planning on killing the both of you the entire time, and like idiots, you'd walked naively into his trap. Cocking your gun, you lifted the cold metal and fired, sending one of your attackers into the water screaming. He didn't surface again. Somewhere in the darkness, you'd see a flash of red every few seconds as Chuuya fought, but it was too risky to try to fire. The last thing you needed was to be fighting for your life as well as his own.
What you didn't know was that you already where. At some point, one of the brutish men had swiped a knife blade over Chuuya's face, carving a thin line from his pale skin. In another stroke of terrible luck, that thin line was all that was needed: the blade was coated in an incredibly potent bio engineered toxin, that, now that it had entered his bloodstream, had paralyzed him completely. As another raised his gun to fire, Chuuya simply closed his eyes. He would've liked to believe he'd die fighting, noble and strong, not on the cold ground about to be shot by some nobody. But if this was how he was going out, he'd hold onto whatever dignity he had left. He waited, each second marked with another heartbeat, his thoughts racing as he wondered if the next breath would be his last.
But the shot never came.
Instead, with the cry of a battle hardened warrior, you sprang from the shadows, except the shadows seemed to be coming from you. Bringing your hand down sharply, you pulled four knives from thin air and sent them racing to their targets with a snap of your fingers. Your movements were fluid and polished, almost too dignified fr the dirty work you were doing. Like a huntress stalking prey you felled your enemies, anticipating every dodge and matching it with a strike of your own. The air around you hummed with violet energy, the darkness responding to you as instantly as one's shadow would. Only your eyes betrayed your fear. And when you knelt beside him, Chuuya realized that you were afraid for him. Your fingers softly probed the area of a bleeding wound at his side, the product of his guard slipping for a single moment.
He was surprised when you wrapped your arms around him, and almost tried to reciprocate the gesture, but you shrugged him off with a laugh.
"Calm down, Nakahara, I'm just trying to get us home. They'll be plenty of time to hug me and thank me for saving you later. Now hold on."
Doing as you said, he tentatively twined his arms around you, and he felt you shiver slightly as the touch. This was different than the way Mori had touched you. That had felt possessive and demeaning, where this was sweet and soft even though the man himself was just as much a hardened criminal as you. You tried not to think about it to much, ignoring the soft quiver that moved through you as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck. Focusing on the image of the Port Mafia headquarters in your mind, you let the shadows envelop you, tightening around your bodies until you felt you could hardly breathe and then...it stopped. You opened your eyes to find yourself in the lobby once again, the now bloodstained briefcase sitting heavy in your hand.
You were safe again, or as safe as you could be among the literal mafia. But in any case, you couldn't ignore the flicker on worry that filled you as Chuuya was led away by a pretty nurse to the medical wing, limping slightly as blood dried on his clothes.
You better not die here, Nakahara. If you leave me alone with that creepy bastard, I sweat to god I'll kill you myself.
///
Finally!!! Part two is done! I truly do hope you enjoyed this, and I had so much fun writing it for you. I'm sorry this took so long, but my schedule is really hectic so I'm trying my best. Thanks to everyone who supports my work, it means so much to me. Part three should be on the way soon, so look out for that if you're interested. <3
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jenstar1992-2 · 3 years
Text
Here with You
Pairing: Echo x reader/ Hunter x reader
Warnings: Mentions of nightmares/ trauma, reliving a traumatic experience, Order 66 (because it’s a warning in itself)
Word count: 7,103
A/N: Well, I knew it, it hasn’t been a whole day since I saw the Bad Batch premiere, and I’ve already gotten my first writing idea (yes, this took me like two days to write because I kept getting interrupted). I just couldn’t get the image of my poor baby Echo in that med bay and seeing the trauma those damned Separatists caused him out of my head. All I want to do is hold him and never let go, he deserves the world. This was originally just going to be an Echo x reader, but it turned into a Hunter x reader as well, because I just couldn’t help myself, I love them both, and wanted both of them to get some lovins. Also, I get the sense that Omega is a smart kid, and that she’s pretty well spoken, so I tried to write her as such, while still keeping that childlike innocence, so hopefully it comes across that way.
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So much had transpired within the last few days and you were still trying to wrap your head around all of it. The jedi had been almost entirely wiped out in a single day, and while you were certain their had to be other survivors besides yourself, you were unclear as to what that number was. Luckily for you, you had been amongst friends when Order 66 was given, and your men turned on you. If it weren’t for the Bad Batch, you were certain you wouldn’t be alive right now.
As you sat in the cockpit of the Marauder, the memories began to flood your brain, which caused involuntary tears to fill your eyes.
You and your men had been sent to Kaller to aid Master Billaba and her troops. However, upon your arrival, you were greeted with a pleasant surprise. It turned out, Clone Force 99 had been on planet already and had taken out a large amount of the droids before you even landed.
You had worked with this group before and had even enjoyed the experience. While your men thought their tactics and unprofessional antics were unnecessary and even a bit annoying, you found the group to be, for lack of a better term, fun. You had been around stuffy, uptight individuals for so long, it was nice to have a change of pace, and while your men were great, they tended to be sticklers for the rules and rarely wanted to take risks.
You also got along with this team rather well, enough to consider them good friends, but you were especially close with their newest recruit. You and Echo had known each other well before he joined the Bad Batch, even before his accident at the citadel, and had been friends for just as long, although as time went by and you found yourself encountering him more and more in your life, you slowly realized you might feel more for the trooper than you should, more than you’d ever admit aloud. So, when you’d heard of his survival and rescue, you had been elated, and that happiness resurfaced at the thought of seeing him again.
You exited the gunship and saw the rag-tag group of clones speaking with Master Billaba on the now quiet battlefield. They turned as you and your men made your approach. As you got closer to the group, you scanned the faces of its members before you found him, smiling brightly as your eyes connected, he did the same.
You came to stand before their leader, raising your gaze to meet the man’s unwavering stare.
“Sergeant”, you greeted him, extending a hand formally, which he took without hesitation, shaking it firmly.
“General, good to see you again”, he said with a smile.
“You too”, you responded.
You’d always liked Hunter, from the beginning he’d always struck you as a respectable man, and you admired the fact that he could allow his men to be their reckless selves while also keeping them in line, but only when necessary, it seemed. There was something else too, something you hadn’t noticed right away, but after a few more encounters with the man, you put it together, coming to an all to familiar realization, one that brought butterflies to your stomach, while also bringing about a slight anxiety. How could you let this happen, it was bad enough falling for one man you couldn’t have, but two, you were sure the universe was out to hurt you.
“General (L/N), I’m glad to see your trip was a safe one, and better late than never I suppose”, Depa said, drawing you from Hunter’s gaze to hers.
“Sorry Master Billaba, we were assisting Masters Luminara and Yoda on Kashyyyk when we got word of your need for reinforcements, we got here as soon as we could”, you said, then looking around at the desolated droids scattered across the landscape. “Although, from what I can tell, you seem to now have a handle on things.”
“Yeah, thanks to these guys”, Caleb, Depa’s padawan, exclaimed, gesturing to the group of men before you. “You should’ve seen it, they took all those droids out in a matter of minutes, it was incredible.”
You chuckled. “Yes, I’m well aware of the marvel that is Clone Force 99, and they do put on quite the show”, you said, shooting a quick glance Echo’s way. “Incredible indeed.”
Your words caused the trooper to smile shyly at you.
“Yes, well, we’re still glad you’re here, we just launched a counterattack, and the more assistance, the better”, Depa said.
You nodded. “You need us, we’ll stay”, you said before turning to your troops. “Men, a counterattack has been launched, I want you to rendezvous with Master Billaba’s troops and aid in the attack, Commander Roran, you’re with me. Let’s move!”
With that your troops dispersed, leaving you and your commander where you stood. You turned back to face everyone.
“So, how can we help”, you asked.
“Actually, I don’t think we’ll be needing your assistance after all, in fact, this war might soon be over”, Tech spoke up, causing you to give him a confused look.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, according to the encrypted comm chatter, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau”, he responded.
“If he captures, or kills Grievous, the separatist command structure will collapse”, Echo chimed in.
“And most likely the droid armies along with them”, Tech finished.
“It can’t be that easy, can it”, you asked, looking to the jedi master.
“While it is an interesting theory, I would not bet our hopes on it, we should focus on the task at hand”, she replied.
“I agree, we should focus our energy on this attack, strike while we have the advantage”, you said.
Hunter nodded. “Any orders, or shall we do what we do”, he asked, directing his words at Depa.
“What do you think General, should we let them ‘do what they do’”, she asked you.
You chuckled and folded your arms over your chest. “Probably our best bet, what do you think Caleb”, you asked the padawan.
“I say we let them, but only if I can go with them”, he responded.
You looked to his master, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Very well”, she said, giving the boy permission.
“Ronan and I will tag along too”, you stated, then looking to Hunter. “Just in case you guys need a hand.”
“Hope that wasn’t a jab at me”, Echo said, coming to stand beside you while simultaneously lifting his cybernetic arm.
You immediately regretted your choice in words and stammered your defense.
“N- no, I didn’t mean, I would never.”
He let out an amused laugh. “I’m just messing with you General, sorry”, he said.
You then scowled at him before poking a finger at his chest plate.
“Not funny”, you said, but couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face.
“I said I was sorry”, you heard him say as you began walking in the direction your troops had gone. He soon caught up and walked alongside you.
You chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“Nah, but I did lose a couple other things”, he said, face turning slightly serious.
You stopped walking and just stood for a moment, a sad expression now adorning your features. Noticing your actions, Echo ceased his movements as well and looked back to you.
“What is it”, he asked.
You went to stand in front of him before you spoke your next words. “Echo, I am sorry for your loss, truly I am, but honestly, I’d rather you be here and missing a few limbs, then for you to not be here at all. I’m just glad your alive, and that I get to see you again.”
He stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before smiling and nodding.
“I guess you’re right, and I’m glad our paths crossed again, I…”, he began, clearly wanting to say more, but stopping himself. You caught on though and decided to voice it for him.
“I missed you too”, you said, giving him a warm smile, prompting one of his own.
You both began walking once more to catch up with your comrades.
“You know, I was actually surprised you recognized me, what with the countless differences and all” he said with a chuckle.
You shook your head. “You can change all you want, I’ll still know it’s you”, you said.
“Yeah?”
“Yep, you might’ve changed a lot on the outside, but inside, you’re still the same Echo I’ve always known and loved”, you said, saying the words before they fully registered with your brain, but once they did you nearly froze in your stacks, your face instantly reddening with embarrassment. You quickly tried to back track before he could respond. “I mean, uh, well, y- you know what I mean.” Smooth.
He chuckled, amused at your obvious embarrassment of your less-than-ideal choice of words yet again.
“It’s okay, I know what you mean”, he said, giving you a reassuring smile before seemingly letting the subject drop, much to your relief.
You nodded as you carried on toward the others.
Suddenly, a wave of emotions flooded your mind, and it was as if hundreds of voices were crying out within the confines of your skull. You stopped, placing a hand to the side of your head in an attempt to stop the dizziness that accompanied the voices.
Echo noticed and came to your side, placing a steadying hand to your back.
“Are you okay”, he asked, clearly concerned.
“S- somethings wrong, I feel… death, so much death, I don’t know…”, you began through heavy breathes, but you were soon cut off by the sound of blaster fire.
You both looked to see Master Billaba’s men attempting to gun her down as she deflected their blasts with her lightsaber. Before you could fully process the sight in front of you, you heard Caleb yell for his master, seeing him rush past you, saber ignited and ready to jump to her aid.
“Caleb, no…”, you shouted, but before you could run after him a burning pain in your left arm stopped you.
You grabbed your now wounded arm and turned to see Roran facing you, blaster raised and aimed directly at you.
“Commander”, you said in confusion, but before you could get another word out, he was firing again. You were able to deflect the blasts with your saber, yelling at him as you did so. “Roran, why are you doing this?”
Suddenly, the blasts stopped as Echo came to your aid, wrestling the blaster out of the commander’s hands before knocking him out cold. He then rushed to your side once more, seeing you kneeling and clutching your head.
“General, (Y/N), (Y/N), can you hear me? Say something”, he urged, but try as you might, you couldn’t form the words to respond.
Your head was swimming in a sea of pain, death, and betrayal, most of which you were certain weren’t coming from you, more like from the force itself. You’d felt disturbances in the force before, but none like this, it was all encompassing and soon you found yourself slipping from consciousness from the intensity of it all.
***
When you finally came to, you found yourself laying in a bunk aboard the Havoc Marauder. When you tried to sit up a hand caught your shoulder and gently coaxed you back down.
“Easy (Y/N), you don’t want to push yourself, you sustained a pretty bad injury, you should rest”, a familiar voice said softly.
“Echo, what, what happened… they turned on us, why would they do that”, you asked, looking at him with confusion and sadness mixing in your expression.
“I don’t know, we’re still trying to figure that out ourselves, but you’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you again, you have my word. Now rest”, he said, trying to comfort you, but knowing it wouldn’t help much given what you’d just been through.
“No”, you heard someone say, the volume of it startling you slightly, and you looked to see that it was Hunter, who had just entered.
“What do you mean ‘no’”, Echo asked him, confused.
“I mean, she can’t stay here, it’s not safe”, he explained, and when you both gave him a befuddled look, he continued, “It’s Crosshair, there’s… something wrong with him. I think whatever happened to those soldiers is happening to him too, but I can’t be sure.”
“What makes you think that”, you questioned, finally sitting up and turning to place your feet on the floor.
He looked behind him, making sure you three were the only ones in ear shot before bending down to your level.
“He tried to kill that padawan”, he said, so low it was almost a whisper.
“Caleb, is he alright”, you asked, fear and concern thick in your voice.
“He’s alive, but other than that, I’m not sure. He ran off after…”, he began, but the words died on his lips.
You nodded in understanding. “So, what should I do, where should I go?”
“Stay here, on Kaller, find somewhere to hide. We’ll go back to Kamino and sort this out, once it’s safe, we’ll come back for you”, he said.
You nodded, agreeing to do as he said, knowing you really had no other option at this point.
Shortly after this conversation you readied yourself to leave, Tech giving you some medical supplies in case you would need to re-bandage your arm before they returned.
Echo ended up accompanying you in your search for shelter, telling the others he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew you’d found somewhere safe to stay. You had resisted the gesture, wanting him to get as far away from danger as possible, but he insisted.
You found a cave a few miles from the ship’s current location and decided it was as good a place as any to crash for, what you were hoping would only be, a few days.
“You sure you’re going to be okay here”, Echo asked, looking into the cold, dark cave.
“I’ll be fine, I’ve stayed in worse places. Besides, it’s the safest place we’ll find in the wilderness, and it’s dark, perfect for hiding”, you said in a poor attempt to lighten the mood, you didn’t know why, force of habit you guessed. Although, all this earned you was a sad smile from the trooper.
“We’ll be back soon, just stay out of sight until then, okay?”
You gave a small smile, bringing your hand up to your forehead for a two fingered salute. “Yes sir”, you said. This actually earned you a small laugh, which at this moment was music to your ears. You lowered your hand and looked into his eyes, taking on a more serious expression. “Just… be safe.”
“I should be telling you that”, he said.
“Yeah, well, I beat you to it”, you said, half grinning.
“I will if you will.”
You nodded. “Then I will.”
Suddenly your body was moving without you telling it to, and you found yourself wrapping him in a tight hug, closing your eyes to keep from crying, and soon the gesture was returned, leaving the both of you in a long embrace.
“Don’t forget me, okay”, you said, the threat of tears evident in your voice.
He squeezed you a little tighter. “Never.”
***
Turns out, you didn’t have to hide out in that cave long at all, as they had returned to retrieve you within two days’ time, with a new crew member, but without Crosshair. You two hadn’t been the best of friends by any means, and the man’s standoffishness really irked you sometimes, but you’d always known that deep down, he wasn’t such a bad guy. So, when the boys had told you what had happened between their return to Kamino and their escape from the planet, it put a surprising strain on your heart. You wanted to be angry with Crosshair for his actions, for attempting to kill Caleb and other innocents, but you just couldn’t, especially after you were informed of the inhibitor chips planted within every clone trooper. You couldn’t be mad at him, you couldn’t hate him, because it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t any of their faults, they were being used just like the jedi had been, if not more so, and this knowledge extinguished any hatred that had grown in you since the day that order was given.
Thinking back on all of this had you shedding silent tears as you watched the streaks of light pass before your eyes, attempting to let yourself to be swept away in the beauty that was hyperspace. This always seemed to calm your mind, but it didn’t seem to be working this time, so you simply stared and let the tears run down your cheeks.
“Hey, you okay”, Hunter asked from the seat beside you, having temporarily taken over piloting the ship in order to allow the others to rest.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by his words and quickly wiped the tears from your face before answering.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, still just trying to figure all of this out”, you replied somberly.
He nodded. “I understand, we still don’t have it all figured out either and with every answer comes new questions”, he said.
You hummed in agreement. “I guess my biggest question is, why now, why did Palpatine wait so long to put this grand plan in action? I mean, he could’ve done it years ago, but no, he waited… waited for us to get close to those who would eventually become our executioners, and worse, he took away their free will to do it. Those troopers, they weren’t the men they used to be, it’s like they were brainwashed.”
“Tech said they were programmed and when the chips were activated, it basically took over their minds, so I guess, in a way, they are brainwashed”, Hunter said, looking back out at the blue glow of hyperspace.
“Those poor men”, you said after a moment of silence.
Hunter turned his head to look at you, an astonished expression over his features, he then let out an amused huff.
“You are truly a wonder, you know that?”
“What”, you asked him, confused by the comment.
“Even after everything you’ve been through, and after what they did to you and your kin, you still feel pity for them”, he explained. “You’ve always been able to see people for who they really are, and forgive them for their faults, it’s commendable, and it’s something I’ve always admired about you.”
“You admire me”, you asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning in amusement.
He gave you a single nod. “Always have”, he said, giving you a soft smile.
The way he was looking at you made your cheeks begin to heat as a light blush covered them, and you turned away in an attempt to hide it, but he noticed, and his smile widened a bit as he looked back out the view port.
“I think you’re right by the way, about Palpatine waiting so long to execute his plan. I think he wanted you all to build those relationships, that trust, with your men, so that, when the time came, he could not only take you all out, but destroy your conviction as well”, he said, his voice lower than before.
“That’s a bit ominous, given our current situation”, you said, only half joking.
He turned to you suddenly, eyebrows raised in mild shock.
“(Y/N), you don’t think we’d… we’d never hurt you, I’d never hurt you, we’re on your side, I promise”, he said, hurt in his eyes. Did you really not trust him?
Seeing his reaction made your heart squeeze, you hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just confused and scared. You felt as if your whole world had come crumbling down around you, and you were still trying to resurface from the rubble. But you knew you were wrong for thinking, even for a second, that you couldn’t trust Hunter and his men.
“I know, I’m sorry. I do trust you, all of you”, you said, trying to sound reassuring, but it only came out as sadness.
It looked as if the sergeant was contemplating something, his hands reflexively grabbing at nothing as they opened and closed on his lap. You knew he wanted to do something, wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to invade your space, worried that would be crossing a line. So, you took the initiative.
You reached over and took one of his hands from his lap, holding it softly before giving it a reassuring squeeze and sending a smile his way. This prompted him to smile back, and you both just sat like that for a minute.
Suddenly, you heard a commotion from the bunks, and your name being called out by a desperate voice.
Recognizing the voice, you jumped up from your seat. “Echo”, you said, concern in your tone, before looking back to Hunter.
He simply nodded. “Go”, he said softly.
You gave a confirming nod and let go of the hand you’d still been holding, before quickly making your way to the bunks.
When you entered the room, it took you a second to assess the situation before you. Echo was laying in his bunk, breathing heavy, head shaking from side to side, and body trembling, as if he were in a state of terror. All this while Omega stood by the bunk, watching with concern. She looked back to you when you entered, then ran to you.
“I tried to wake him, but it’s not working, he keeps calling for you, you’ve got to do something”, she said in a rush, voice and eyes full or worry for her new friend.
You bent down to her level and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I know what to do, you go wait with Hunter, okay? Everything will be fine”, you told her, attempting to quell her worry.
You then stood and made your way to Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk and looking over him with your own worried expression. You really didn’t know what to do, you’d never been faced with something like this before. He was clearly having a terrible nightmare, and you wanted to help, so you just acted on instinct.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook lightly, softly calling his name, trying to wake him as gradually as you could, as you figured startling him awake would be counterproductive. However, this didn’t seem to work, and hearing your voice only caused him to say your name more. Seeing him like this broke your heart, and for a moment you felt totally helpless, but then you had an idea. You moved your hand from his shoulder, bringing it to cup the side of his face, your thumb instinctually beginning to rub soothing circles on his cheek, and you bent down to speak quietly in his ear.
“Echo, it’s (Y/N). You don’t have to be scared, I’m here, I won’t let them hurt you anymore”, you said, gently grabbing his flesh hand with your free one and holding it to your chest. “I’m here for you, I’ll always be right here with you, it’s okay. Wake up Love. Come back to me.”
As you spoke you could see him slowly calm, and with your final request, his eyes fluttered open, finding yours instantly.
“There you are”, you said softly, a smile spreading over your face. You were just relieved that the nightmare was over, and he seemed to be calming more with each passing second.
As he took in your presence before him, he let out a relieved sigh, but then looked to you with a strained expression.
“(Y/N), I… I was back, back with them, back to that day, I… I didn’t know how or why, and I just…”, he said in a desperate rush.
You shushed him, and let your hand continue to stay where it was in an attempt to sooth the frightened man lying next to you.
“I know, it’s okay, you’re okay now, you’re here with me, you’re safe, I promise”, you reassured him.
This seemed to work, and he let out another sigh as he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing once again, coming back to a steady pattern in no time. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the position you both were in; you were sitting very close beside him, one hand resting on his cheek, while the other held his hand close to your heart, with his clutching yours in return, like you were his lifeline, which he had to admit, wasn’t far from the truth. You were the one he could trust without question, the one he could confide in, always had been.
You noticed this too and immediately went to pull away, slowly dropping his hand as you did, cheeks now burning. You didn’t get very far though, before he grabbed your wrist with his newly freed hand. “No”, he said, and pulled the hand back towards his head, coaxing you to return it to its previous spot. “Don’t stop… please.”
You stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, before finally giving him a tentative nod and continuing your earlier action of rubbing your thumb in circles on his cheek. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, relaxing easily under your touch, this causing you to smile, glad you could be of comfort to him. You stayed like this for a while before your curiosity got the best of you and you voiced the question that had been on your mind since you first heard him call your name.
“Echo”, you said in a questioning tone. He hummed in response, not opening his eyes. “Why, why me?”
He looked at you then, confused. “What do you mean?”
“When you were having your nightmare, you, you called out for me, I was just wondering, why me”, you explained.
“I did”, he asked.
“Yeah, quite a few times actually. Was I in your dream or something?”
He looked away, a bit embarrassed.
“Not exactly”, he said.
You used the hand that was still on him to lightly pull his head to face you, speaking once his eyes were fixed on yours once again.
“Echo, you know you can tell me anything. What is it”, you asked.
“You weren’t in the dream, technically, and it wasn’t really a dream, more like I was reliving a memory, the memory of the citadel, and…”, he explained, his words dying off as he found it hard to voice them.
You placed a reassuring hand on his chest and gave him a nod in understanding.
“So, you were reliving that day, I’m sorry, I know that can’t be easy. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me, I wasn’t there, if I had been, I would’ve taken that blow for you”, you said, suddenly feeling tears behind your eyes, but you fought them back internally.
His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed your hand from its spot on his chest, squeezing it firmly.
“No, don’t say that”, he said urgently, suddenly sitting up, causing your hand to slip from his face, instead falling to rest at the intersection of his shoulder and neck.
“But…”, you tried to say, but he cut you off.
“No (Y/N), I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, least of all on you”, he said, staring directly into your eyes. You could only nod sadly as you tried to keep your emotions in check, which was getting harder as this interaction continued. He then softened his gaze and let out a long breath. “You were there, in a way.”
You gave him a confused look, about to ask what he meant, until he continued.
“After the explosion, I just laid there for a long time, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time, I was basically just waiting to die”, he told you. Your heart squeezed at his words, as the tears threatened to rise. “But then, I heard someone’s voice calling out to me, your voice. You were telling me not to give up, not to leave you, to keep fighting, and so I did. I bared the pain and rejected the urge to just slip away, even after they took me, I fought through all of it, because I knew that if I survived, then there was a chance I’d make it back to you, and… I really wanted that.”
That’s all it took, his words hit you straight in the chest and flowed through you, causing the flood gates to release and the tears to fall. Echo looked worried then and released your hand, bringing his to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”, he said, internally wishing he hadn’t said anything.
You shook your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’m not sad that you told me, I’m glad you did”, you said, wiping the tears from the other side of your face. “Honestly, I’m just happy your alive, and that you did find your way back to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. When I heard what happened on Lola Sayu I couldn’t believe it at first, it didn’t feel real, but once I accepted it was… I had never felt true grief until that moment, and the sense of longing was almost unbearable. All I kept thinking was how I was angry with myself for wasting the time I had with you, lying. Lying to you, and to myself.”
“What are you talking about, lying about what”, he asked, sliding his hand down to hook a finger around your chin and turn your face back to face him after you’d turned it away during your confession.
You took a deep breath before speaking next. “I lied to you before, when I acted like that slip up was just a poor choice of words, I meant exactly what I said. See, the truth is, I was upset with myself because I never told you…”, you paused, finding this confession to be much harder than you had thought it would be to get out, “never told you that I…”
After another long pause, Echo decided to take the initiative, seeing as he knew exactly what you wanted to say, as it was the same thing he’d wanted to say to you all that time ago, still did. He used the hand that had a hold of your chin to pull you to him as he caught your lips in a kiss, one that while soft, was full of so much emotion it was almost palpable. You were surprised at first, but soon melted into the kiss, feeling completely content with staying there as long as possible.
Much too soon for your liking, Echo pulled away, but only to place his forehead against yours and let the long overdue words slip from his lips. “I love you too.”
Your smile reached your ears as his words filled you with untainted happiness, which prompted him to smile widely himself. Why had you both waited so long to do this, you didn’t know, but you were glad it was finally happening.
“Why did we spend all that time hiding, when we could’ve just done this”, you asked.
He chuckled. “Because we were both cowardly idiots”, he said.
You hummed in agreement. “I still can’t believe you did all that for me”, you said in a more serious tone.
He pulled back to look into your eyes. “Of course I did… I’d do anything for you (Y/N)”, he told you.
“Anything?”
He nodded in response and you smiled again.
“Kiss me again”, you said, it was more of a request than a demand.
He smiled and pulled you close so your face was mere inches from his.
“Yes Ma’am.”
***
It had been a good fifteen minutes since the cries had stopped and no noise could be heard from Echo’s bunk. Omega was no longer worried, knowing you had it handled, but her curiosity was starting to get the best of her.
“What do you think their talking about in there, it’s so quiet, maybe I should…”, she said as she got up from the co-pilot seat, moving in the direction of the bunks, but she was stopped by a hand grabbing her forearm, causing her to turn and stare at Hunter questioningly.
“Don’t, they’re fine, and it’s none of our business what their talking about, so just let them be, alright”, he said, giving her a warning look, one that wasn’t all that intimidating to the young girl, but she listened nonetheless and returned to her seat.
After a moment she spoke again, not being able to take the silence any longer.
“So, what’s the deal with those two, are they together, or is it some secret that everyone knows about except them”, she asked the sergeant.
Hunter laughed, this kid really was perceptive, not that anyone with eyes couldn’t see the attraction between you and Echo, it had always seemed so obvious to him, which is why he never spoke on his own feelings for you.
“Yeah, there seem to be… unspoken feelings between the two of them, but I’m sure they’ll get their acts together soon enough, especially now that they’ll be around each other more often”, he told her.
She thought on this for a moment before responding.
“I think so too… and what about you”, Omega asked him.
“What about me?”
“Are you going to get your act together as well”, she asked, raising her eyebrow and grinning at him.
“What are you talkin’ about kid”, Hunter asked, wondering if she’d somehow figured it out.
“Seriously, I’ve only just got here and I can see it”, she said.
“See what?”
“That Echo isn’t the only one who has feelings for the general.”
Hunter turned to the young clone, a look of surprise on his face. Very perceptive indeed.
“Why don’t you just tell her, at least one of you should pluck up the courage to do it”, she said.
He exhaled heavily as his features returned to a more neutral expression.
“It’s not that simple kid, there are just some things you’re not old enough to understand. Besides, it’s not reciprocated so there’s really no point, she’s made her choice, and I have to respect that”, he explained, hoping that would be that. However, he wasn’t going to be that lucky.
“Your wrong”, Omega said simply.
“What?”
“Your wrong, those feelings, they are reciprocated, yeah she likes Echo, but she likes you too.” She said it with such confidence that it made him wonder if the statement was true.
“Really, and how do you know that”, he asked, an almost sarcastic tone in his voice.
She shrugged. “Female intuition.”
He raised a suspicious brow at her but decided not to think too much on it.
“Hm, well, even if you are right, she’s still made her choice, and I won’t get in the way.”
“Won’t get in the way of what?”
Your voice made both of them jump a little. You had just made your way back to the cockpit and had clearly overheard the last bit of their conversation.
“Nothing”, Hunter said, watching you come to stand beside Omega, perching your arm on the headrest of the co-pilot chair and leaning on it.
“Really? Didn’t sound like nothing”, you said, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.
Omega suddenly perked up and turned in her chair to look up at you.
“Hey (Y/N), do you think it’s possibly for someone to love more than one person at a time”, she asked.
You were a bit taken aback by the question, but figured you’d answer, seeing as how you were being very honest today.
“Yes, I do, it actually happens a lot more often than you think”, you responded, purposefully avoiding Hunter’s gaze as you looked at the child.
“And what does that person do, you know, when they realize they have feelings for more than one person”, she then asked.
“Well, usually that person then has a decision to make, and they just hope they don’t break any hearts in the process. You see, love can be a tricky endeavor. However, I think if someone does fall for two individuals at once, then there are other options”, you said, rather matter-of-factly, given the topic at hand.
“Like what?”
“Those involved could always enter into a relationship all together, I suppose”, you said, wondering just how far she was going to take this conversation.
“And that would work”, she asked, seeming almost hopeful.
“It’s possible, yes, but only if all members involved are okay with it. They all need to know that’s what’s going on, and there can’t be any secrets”, you explained.
“Huh, I guess that makes sense”, Omega said, seeming content with your explanation. Then another thought seemed to hit her. “Hey (Y/N)?”
You hummed in response.
“Have you ever been in love”, she asked curiously.
“Omega”, Hunter said firmly, giving her another look of warning.
“No, no, it’s fine”, you informed him, not wanting him to reprimand the girl for just being curious. “To answer your question Omega, yes, yes I have.”
“With more than one person”, she continued.
You raised an eyebrow at her and crossed your arms over your chest.
“What’s with the twenty questions, am I being interrogated or something”, you asked, only half joking.
She shook her head. “No, just curious is all.”
“Uh huh, well why don’t you stow that curiosity away for later and go get some rest, it’s quiet now”, you told her.
“What did you do, I mean, how did you get him to stop”, she asked as she stood from her seat.
“I just let him know that he was safe, and that there was nothing to be afraid of”, you said, which wasn’t a complete lie.
“That’s it”, she asked.
You nodded. “That’s it.”
She gave you a look of suspicion but didn’t act on it.
“Okay”, she said, drawing out the word, and made her way to exit the cockpit.
“Sleep tight”, you called after her as she disappeared down the small corridor. You then turned back to the view port and took a seat in the now empty chair, sighing heavily before finally looking to Hunter. “Well, that was interesting, care to tell me what that was all about?”
“Not really”, he said, turning back to face forward.
You raised a brow. “Seriously?”
He shrugged and kept his gaze where it was.
You sighed again and leaned back in your chair. “Alright then, but I think it’s worth mentioning that the kid knows what she’s talking about, you might want to listen to her every now and then, she’s quite intuitive.”
He looked to you then, confusion on his brow.
“What do you mean”, he asked.
You laughed. “I mean, what she said about me is true”, you said.
His eyes widened a bit. “You, you heard that”, he asked, and you nodded in response. “How much of it?”
“Enough”, you said simply.
He looked away again as he spoke. “Then you know it doesn’t matter how I feel, you’ve made your choice, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have to be”, he said, trying to keep up this act of indifference.
You turned in your seat to face him. “You keep saying that, but, what if I don’t want to choose, because how you feel does matter, Hunter. At least, to me it does.”
He turned his head to meet your gaze. “What exactly are you proposing”, he asked.
“Nothing yet, just letting you know that, I know, and that the feelings are mutual.”
He smiled at this and nodded his understanding.
“What about Echo, have you told him yet”, he asked.
“We talked, and confessions were made… finally”, you said with a smile.
You both laughed then, happy to finally air things out a bit, all the pent-up emotions were wearing on all of you it seemed, and it felt nice to not have to hide it anymore.
“How do you think he’ll feel about your non-proposed proposal”, he asked with a grin.
“I don’t know, but we’re all adults, we can sit down and have a civilized conversation about this, and… we’ll figure this all out”, you told him.
He gave an amused huff. “You make it sound so formal.”
You nodded and gave a light chuckle. “At first, yeah, but I get the feeling that once this proposal is made, all persons involved will be… willing to give it a try”, you said, taking his hand and holding it in both of yours. “Then things will get more… informal.”
He smiled. “Yeah, how can you be so sure”, he asked, leaning toward you.
You smiled back and leaned in as well, your faces now only inches apart.
“Female intuition”, you whispered, your smile turning a bit smug.
He chuckled in amusement. “You’re ridiculous”, he said, before closing the gap between you.
The kiss was sweet and felt just as right as the ones you’d had with Echo, and just like those ones, this kiss ended all to quickly, but you were content to sit back and bask in the afterglow, you didn’t want to rush things after all.
You both sat there a moment, leaning back in your seats, staring out the view port, arms stretched as your hands sat, intertwined, between you. Maybe this really could work, only time would tell.
After what felt like hours, but in reality, had only been minutes, Hunter looked to you with a soft smile.
“I’m glad you’re here with us”, he said.
You smiled back and gave his hand a light squeeze.
“Me too”, you said, and you both stayed like that for a long while, enjoying a view you each thought was much better than the one outside the view port.
Little did you know, behind you Omega stood at the entrance of the cockpit, looking on silently and grinning from ear to ear, feeling quite pleased with herself.
175 notes · View notes
volleychumps · 4 years
Note
hii! can I request headcanons/scenario (up to you) to kuroo's first year sister becoming nekoma's manager (also kuroo is a little overprotective) and the team going to a training camp with the others for the fist time? thank you in advance!
 Awh yes of course this prompt made my heart go !!! This is a tad crack-filled but it has its’ sappy moments, I hope you enjoy!!
The Younger Kuroo
----------------------
“And what do we say when a boy asks for your number?” 
“Oh please, jump into my bed. I’ve been waiting.” 
You dodge the thump to the forehead from Kuroo’s thumb as you hide behind a cackling Yaku, who wiped a tear from his eyes at the promise of death in your older brother’s eyes. 
“No. Try again.” 
“I’m not five~” you whine, stretching your legs out from the slightly cramped bus ride. You loved Lev like a brother, but his legs hardly gave you any room to sit comfortably. Said boy hadn’t even realized until towards the end of the ride, panicking and taking your bags up for you as an apology with a sheepish grin on his cat-like features. 
Kai thumps your head for Kuroo, causing you to protest. “Kai! I’m supposed to be your favorite!” 
“Keep making jokes about bringing boys into your bed and you won’t be.” 
“Um sir, I’m actually going to be sleeping on a futon-” 
You dodge the next flick to your head, grumbling about how your brother’s team abuses their own manager as you run ahead to catch up with Kenma, ignoring the agitated calls for your ass to get back there from your brother. 
Kuroo rolls his eyes at the actions of his younger sister, watching Kenma show you what he was playing as Yaku brings a hand up to his neck, the three third-years watching with slightly worried expressions as their little sister figure hops onto Inuoka’s back. 
“Will she really be okay?” 
“She’s smart. She can take care of herself.” 
“MORI, INUOKA ATE MY COOKIES!” 
“I BOUGHT THEM FOR YOU-”
“Inuoka don’t steal her snacks! She’s still growing!” 
Kuroo sighs, the captain raising a hand to his eyes as Kai grins lopsidedly next to him, looking a little apologetic. 
“Nevermind. She’s a dumbass.” 
“So...we should worry about her?” 
This would be a long training camp. 
--------------------------------------
“Yamamoto, bend your knees a little more.” You instruct, resting a hand on the boy’s back as Yamamoto nervously looks to the side in case Kuroo was looking. You roll your eyes, applying more pressure. Your brother’s overprotective nature was funny at times, but not when it got into your duties as team manager. 
“Are you really her?!” 
“Bokuto, I said no!” 
You blink, hiding behind Yamamoto on instinct as a boy with burly arms and silver hair came running towards you, excitement brimmed in his gold irises as Kuroo holds his collar with an irk mark. A second guy with slightly disheveled hair came walking in tow, hands stuffed in his pockets as if this were an every day occurence. You focus in on their shirts. Fukurodani Academy. 
“Huh? Wait...” The Fukurodani member looks deep in thought. “She’s like, totally cute. What happened to you?” 
“Akaashi, please claim your pet.” Kuroo snips, but before the second boy can step forward, you’re laughing and stepping out from your hiding place and extending a hand to the silver haired boy, who grips it excitedly as he ignores Kuroo’s protests. 
“I’m Kuroo Y/N! The totally cuter sibling.” 
“Bokuto Kotaro! You can call me Bokuto onee-chan!” 
“No you cannot.” 
“...Bo onee-chan?” you offer a bit timidly, ignoring the glower from your older brother as you hide your smirk. 
Bokuto swooned, causing the second boy to nudge him, an amused look tickling his features as he bows respectfully. 
“Akaashi Keiji.” 
“Keiji-Kun?” You grin, and the blue-eyed boy takes on a look of surprise and seems to ponder it for a moment, nodding his head before bowing again. 
“We’ll be taking our leave, Kuroo-san.” 
“Call me Y/N!” You call, the setter turning slightly in their depart to nod to you as Bokuto fist pumps the air, claiming you were totally his type before you zone in on your unamused older brother, whose arms were crossed as you grin a little sheepishly. 
“You’re telling me you know those two hotties and you’ve never bothered to set me up?” 
“Y/N-” 
“Joking! It was a joke!” You say a little too quickly, jogging off to encourage Kenma to get his ass off the bench as Kuroo groans, tugging Kai and Yaku off to the sidelines. 
“...yeah. we might need to worry.” 
“What are you talking about?” Mori laughs. “She’s not a kid, Kuroo. We don’t need to look after her as much as we did before.”
---------------------------------------
“Literally fuck what I said before.” 
“Just how the hell did she manage to befriend the whole Karasuno team?” Kuroo grits out, Bokuto chuckling to his side as Akaashi reminds Kuroo not to snap his chopsticks in half. 
“Even Tsukki isn’t telling her to leave his sight. Is she magic or what?” 
The event where you were sitting between the vice-captain and wing spiker of the Karasuno team during that evening meal had begun when the captain had accidentally sent a receive towards your head, the goregous team manager managing to protect you in time with a swift wave of her hand. The vice-captain had rushed up to you in a hurry, apologizing profusely before the hyper libero invited you to come eat dinner with them, claiming he would buy you anything you wanted from the snack vendors afterwards. 
“Daichi, if you don’t stop apologizing, I will press charges.” You warn, placing more rice in your mouth as Yachi giggles from across you, eyes curious. 
“It’s hard to believe you’re Kuroo-san’s little sister, Y/N.” 
“You’re not scary...at all. Are you sure you two are related?” Hinata blanches, pretending he can’t see the glower from the captain across the cafeteria. You shrug, shooing the offered fried katsu from Sugawara’s chopsticks away. 
“Eat, Suga. I’m not dead.” You huff, turning to reply to your new friend. “And Hinata, don’t talk with your mouth full. Sadly, we came from the same womb and he was my first bully.”
The fact that you were both first years made you get along easily with the freckled boy, Yachi, Hinata, and even the genius blue-eyed setter and the tall middle blocker managed to engage in conversation with you one or two times. You noticed that the boy who claimed a little too boisterously to call him “Tanaka-Senpai” and the libero “Nishinoya-senpai” were looking at you with stars in your eyes before cutting you off mid-conversation. 
“Was being saved by Kiyoko a mesmerizing experience?” 
“Daichi, why don’t you throw a volleyball at their head so they can see?” 
“Suga, I said I was sorry, I feel bad enough!”
“You hurt a kouhai!” Suga over dramticizes, playfully creating a human shield between you and the captain. “You don’t even deserve to look at her!” 
You laugh, the laugh dwindling slightly when you meet Kuroo’s eyes from across the room. The team all look down at once, Lev pouting and Yaku seeming to be a little more quiet as Yamamoto and Fukunaga pretend to carry on a conversation. 
The captain looks away quickly, and you frown, focusing on your meal. It looks like you were going to have an unexpected team meeting tonight. 
----------------------------
“All right. Why is everyone on edge?” You throw the door open, not even flinching when some of your boys were in the middle of putting their shirts on. Lev and Inuoka both squeal overdramatically, covering their bodies. 
“Y/N you perv!” 
“Oh shut up, you always walk around shirtless and I say nothing!” You protest, plopping down in your brother’s futon. “Where is Kuroo anyway?” 
“Out. You know you can’t be in the boys’ dorms this late, Y/N. Do you want me to walk you?” Yaku crosses his arms strictly, and you sidle up to Kenma before resting your head on his shoulder tiredly, the boy you grew up with not even reacting as he continues to tap away on his console. 
“Nope.” You pop the p. “I just feel like I should say something. So gather around, chums.” 
“What, are you british now?” 
“Lev I seem to remember asking you to gather around, not hit me with an attitude.” You reply sassily, clapping your hands together. “Group circle. Now.” 
“She does have that captain vibe.” Yamamoto mumbles to Fukunaga as he simply nods in response. As your boys gather, you wait for them to settle before starting. 
“Okay, so welcome to alcoholic’s anonymous-” 
“Never mind. She doesn’t have a captain vibe, I must’ve been crazy.”
“Hi I’m Inuoka, and-
“Get to the point Y/N.” Kai says seriously as he yawns. You cross your legs, pressing the off button on Kenma’s console before looking at each of them individually, a seriousness in your eyes that was rarely there. 
“You do know I love you guys, right? Just because we’re at a training camp doesn’t mean I like the other teams more than I like you...so I wanted to say I’m sorry if it seemed like I was being a little neglectful...” You trail off, fiddling with your fingers. “I know some of you see me as your younger sister, and I really really don’t want you guys to feel like you guys are replaceable, because you aren’t.” 
You look up to see a mixture of surprise as some near tears (Lev and Inuoka) before you hastily add,  “And thus that ends my cheesy speech. Anyway, I struggle with high-amounts of alcohol consumption-” 
You’re cut off when the first years tackle you into a hug, crying they’re really glad you’re their manager as you struggle to breathe. You look up after you manage to shove them off, Yaku ruffling your hair as Kai crosses his arms with a satisfied grin on his face. Even Kenma had a little smile on his face before turning his console back on. 
“Sis.” 
You freeze up. It was time to face the final boss. Your head turns to sheepishly smile at Kuroo before he rolls his eyes, jutting his head to the side slightly. 
“I’ll walk you out.” 
“Goodnight Y/N!” 
“We love you!” 
“Speak for yourself-” 
“Shut up Kenma, we know you do.” 
-------------------------
“So you heard?” You walk next to your older brother, arms swinging loosely as Kuroo hums in response, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. 
“It was nice for you to clarify.” Kuroo speaks after a few brief moments of comfortable silence. “For awhile, we were the only team that didn’t have a manager to deal with us, so I’m not surprised they got a little worried seeing you cozy up to other teams. One might say even a little possessive.” 
Kuroo stops, and you turn curiously to face your brother. 
“It honestly makes me really scared to think one of these bastards might steal my little sister away. None of them are deserving of you, and I’ll be damned if I let you think that they are.”
You blink. Kuroo saying nice things seemed to only happen once in a blue moon. 
“Tetsurou-nii.” You say softly, tugging on Kuroo’s sleeve. “I’m not a kid anymore, you know? I’m not that middle schooler that always followed you and your friends around, having an unexplainable crush on Kenma-” 
“Get to the point.” 
“I’m happy you care.” You hug him, feeling Kuroo relax into your embrace. “But you gotta let me grow up some day, you know? And that thing about none of the team being replaceable?” 
Your grip tightens just a little more. “You’re the one it applies to the most. You’re my one and only older brother who pisses me off at times, but...I...ugh god....why is this so hard? I uh... l-love you, big bro.” 
You feel a hand rest on the top of your head as Kuroo sighs. “I love you too, little sis, so stop saying gross stuff.” 
“Then don’t pout at me from across the cafeteria!” 
“Who the hell was pouting? Me? You must be losing your sight, crazy woman.” 
“At least my hair doesn’t look like a duck’s ass.” 
“At least I’m tall.” 
“Don’t be bitter because you weren’t apart of our alcoholic’s anonymous meeting-” 
and so, both Kuroo’s walked and laughed all the way to the girls’ housing, the atmosphere significantly lighter than it had once been. 
---------------------------
“What business do you have with our manager, oi?” 
“Yamamoto, let Tanaka and Noya say bye.” You scold, highfiving them with both hands before Daichi approaches, Sugawara by his side as the captain of Karasuno hands you a steaming bag of Taiyaki.
“Share with your friends. This is my official apology. We’ll see you soon, Y/N.” The captain smiles warmly before turning to Suga. “Happy now?” 
“No, you abuser. Goodbye little kouhai!!” 
You wave to Hinata, Yachi, and Yamaguchi from a distance, Tsukishima and Kageyama both simply nodding to you as you shake your phone a little, signalling each of them to text you with the number you gave them with a bright smile. 
“Y/N don’t leave without saying bye to your nii-chan!” 
“Never, Bo-onii!” You cry overdramatically as Bokuto spins you around, Akaashi setting one hand on your head with a slight nod and a smile tickling his lips. It was honestly crazy how close you got with these people in three days, but who was complaining? 
“On the bus. Now.” Kuroo picks you up mid-spin from Bokuto’s grasp as you stick your tongue out, offering your final waves to everyone before Kai simply picks you up by the collar and quite literally drags you onto the bus. 
“Oh, did I miss my abusive boys.” You roll your eyes as you’re seated promptly next to Lev, who kindly kept his legs in check to give you enough room on the bus. “Who wants Taiyaki? Daichi-senpai treated us!” 
“Is Daichi the one? I called dibs, already!” Lev whines as the pastries are passed around, the bus settling into motion before Kuroo delivers a chop to the first-year’s head, who quickly claims it was a joke before a laugh bubbles up in your throat. 
Yeah. Your boys were a bit of a handful. 
“Yaku, you can’t have two!” 
“It just means Y/N loves me more.” 
“I’m her brother, you can’t compete.” 
“Shut up, she hates you half the time.” 
“No one asked you, Kenma!” 
But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
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That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1
So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.
Summary:
"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.
“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”
AO3 Link
~
Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.
What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.
The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.
When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.
Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.
Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.
The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.
Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.
While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.
After that it was a matter of waiting.
Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.
How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.
Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.
“Timothy.” the man drawled.
“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.
He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.
Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”
The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?
“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.
He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."
At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”
He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.
“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”
Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”
Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”
“Dad.” Tim interjected.
The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”
“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”
Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.
He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.
Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.
He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.
This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).
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Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.
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He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.
When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.
Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.
They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.
“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.
“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”
He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”
Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”
She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”
“I hope so.” Tim said.
The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.
“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”
Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.
“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”
“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.
Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.
Until, of course, it wasn’t.
It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.
He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.
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At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.
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They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.
He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.
“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”
Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”
Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.
The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.
“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”
Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.
“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”
Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.
“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”
Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.
“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”
Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”
Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”
“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.
He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”
“It’s only one trial--”
“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.
“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.
Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.
“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.
Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”
He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.
“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”
Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.
He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.
The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.
And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.
He gingerly pulled one out to examine.
“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.
Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.
“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”
“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”
Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”
The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”
Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?
No.
No.
No. Freaking. Way.
“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.
Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”
“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”
Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”
“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”
“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”
The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”
“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”
He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.
Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.
The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”
Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”
Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”
“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.
Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.
But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.
“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”
Then he spun on his heel and walked away.
Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”
“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.
“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”
The man��s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”
Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.
As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.
Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.
Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.
“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.
“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.
Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”
“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.
The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”
Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?
“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”
“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”
Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.
“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”
The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”
Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?
Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.
One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).
Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.
It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.
Tim: Want to cause some chaos?
Immediately he received a response:
Steph: Always
Cass: Who are we going after?
Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:
Tim: Ra’s.
Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?
Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene
Tim: There’s more.
Cass: Tell.
The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.
Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.
The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.
“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”
Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.
“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”
“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”
Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”
Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”
“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”
Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.
Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”
“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”
He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”
“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.
Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.
“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”
The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.
Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.
“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.
“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”
Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”
Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”
“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.
“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.
“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”
They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.
It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.
A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.
Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.
At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”
The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”
Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.
Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.
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agoldengalaxy · 3 years
Text
deny, deny, deny
read on Ao3
5 times someone told Sam and Bucky they cared about each other, and the 1 time they showed it.
--
1.
“You two bicker a lot,” Dr. Raynor says, eyeing the two men who sit, fuming, on the other side of her desk. “If you won’t speak to each other, then tell me this, instead. James, why would you ignore Sam’s texts?”
Bucky grumbles something under his breath. Sam seems genuinely curious to hear the answer. Raynor glares until Bucky sighs and repeats himself, staring at the floor. “Didn’t wanna bother ‘im.”
“What? I was the one texting you, Bucky! Why would I -”
“Just drop it, Sam.”
“…Fine.”
Folding her hands on her desk, Raynor sighs. She can’t be certain, but Bucky has been her client for a few months now, and she knows it takes a long time for him to tell the truth. In this case, however, she thinks the truth is there, as a small part of it. The way that the tips of his ears redden tell her that there must be more to it.
She isn’t blind. She has a feeling she might know that answer. So she leans forward a little. “Good. Thank you for that answer, James.” Her gaze slides to Sam, whose arms are crossed over his chest as he looks toward the wall. “How does that make you feel, Sam?”
He scoffs. “After everything I’ve done for him, he still -”
“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Gentlemen, please,” Raynor interrupts, feeling a headache coming on. She blows out a breath. “You’re both big boys now. You can handle this -“ she gestures vaguely, because she knows that they don’t quite understand yet, “- if you just talk to each other. Emotions are powerful things, you can’t ignore them forever.”
Bucky groans. Sam huffs.
They don’t get it. She’s not sure she wants to see them flounder, but she should put it out there, anyway. She leans forward. “Emotions including love, that you may have buried deep below.”
For a split second, she is met with stunned silence, before they both erupt, loudly. Denying, denying, denying, pushing the feelings down even deeper than they had been before despite the way that they fluster.
It’s okay, she tells herself. Deep breath in and out. They’ll accept it soon, someday.
Still, she shakes her head, effectively cutting them off. “No matter what kind of love it is, you care about each other. And that’s the bottom line. Once you cross it, things’ll be a whole lot easier.”
Sam looks at his lap, blinking. Bucky’s cheeks flush pink.
Raynor needs a drink.
2.
“This is really easy for you, isn’t it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins.” John hates the man standing in front of him. Maybe, in another life, they could have been friends. But the stubbornness just pisses him off, so he goes for Bucky’s weakness. He knows Bucky can take being insulted, but there is one thing he won’t accept. “Barnes, your partner needs backup in there.”
He watches Bucky’s cold stare waver, if only for a moment. John takes that opportunity to stand his ground, glancing behind Bucky, to that open door he wants to go through so desperately. Karli is right there, and the only thing standing in his way now is Barnes, and his stupid loyalty to Sam.
Bucky thinks so highly of Sam, he doesn’t have any other choice but to use that one weakness.
So they lock eyes again. “I know you care about him. Do you really want his blood on your hands?”
Beside him, Lemar shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Bucky looks down for a split second. John knows what it’s like. He’d never leave Lemar behind, though he knows with Sam and Bucky, things are a little different. He can feel Zemo’s eyes boring into them now, clearly amused. They wait.
Bucky’s jaw is clenched, every inch of him now rigid. John knows the feeling, and knows perhaps it might have been unfair to put him in that position; he knows he would stop at nothing if it were his wife in that room. That’s almost the equivalent of what Bucky must have been thinking.
But the ends justify the means.
Drawing in a sharp breath, Bucky turns around, his shoulders still tight, and John exchanges a look with Lemar as he speaks. “You’re right. We should help him.”
John’s grip on the shield tightens. Lemar grins. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel,” he suggests as they start up the stairs.
Bucky ignores them both, readying for the fight.
3.
“Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”
“Isn’t that how gods talk?” Sam asks, cool and collected as ever. “And if that’s how you feel, then what about Bucky?”
Zemo carefully removes the ice pack from his forehead, weighing it in his hand as he sits up. He doesn’t know how to feel about Bucky just yet. For now, that question doesn’t have an answer. For now, Steve Rogers is the only exception, and he can’t imagine that changing anytime soon.
Still, he has to have some kind of fun, right?
So he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, tilting his head to get a better look at the man sitting at the table, and shrugs. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Sam blinks, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“Come now, Sam, I always thought you were an intelligent individual,” he replies, only slightly teasing. He does like Sam. He’s righteous, level-headed, and doesn’t make any stupid decisions. Except, perhaps, the person he might have chosen to love. “What do you think of James?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Nodding, the other smiles and looks down, gathering his thoughts. “I think he’s annoyin’ as hell,” he answers slowly. “But...he’s passionate, smart, a big softie deep down...and he always does the right thing even though he’s hurting, too.” He pauses, then adds, “I still can’t tell if breakin’ you out of jail counts as the right thing, though.”
Zemo smirks, leaning back a little, tossing the ice pack from one hand to the other. “You know, when I first met my wife, she hated my guts.”
“Can’t say I blame her, Zemo.”
He chuckles, somewhat sadly, then continues. “These fights that you and James have, over the small things, they are nothing more than just couple’s quarrels.”
Sam’s eyes widen and he turns to look at him fully, as if he’s lost his mind. “What the hell are you talkin’ about? Bucky and I are just -”
“Just what, Sam?” Zemo tilts his head, as if challenging him. This is exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. It isn’t often the calm and collected Sam Wilson loses his cool, and Zemo likes to know he’s one of the ones who can get a rise out of him. “Friends, partners, all these terms you both throw around…” He thinks back to that look on Bucky’s face when John had challenged him, and his smile returns. “Perhaps you ought to think about what you truly want.”
And okay, maybe it isn’t just wanting to get a reaction from Sam. Maybe Zemo has seen the good in both of them, and thinks, perhaps, they ought to be happy, for once. His own partner is long gone, but it isn’t too late for Sam and Bucky.
Sam opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off by the heavy sound of the door opening, and he immediately falls silent as Bucky walks in, with news that the Dora Milaje are after Zemo. Although Sam recovers quickly, staring at his laptop, Zemo side-eyes him, wondering if he might be blushing.
So Zemo stands up, shaking his head. How juvenile.
4.
Sarah leans against the truck, wiping sweat from her forehead. It’s been hours, and she still can’t believe Sam has managed to pull off receiving this much help. She knows their parents did a lot of favors, but she never could have imagined it would pay off this much one day.
She’s already made up her mind. She can’t sell this boat. It means so much to her, and to Sam.
Her gaze drifts toward the dock, where Bucky is helping Sam carry some things to Carlos. She’s almost certain they’re bickering again, but as they walk, their shoulders almost touch. Sam smiles. It’s something she hadn’t realized she had missed so much.
Seeing her brother smile, and seeing the reason for that smile, is all the evidence she needs to agree to let Bucky crash on her couch. The sun is already dipping closer and closer to the horizon, and she knows people will begin returning home soon. Personally, she has to get the boys to bed. But she lets herself enjoy this moment as long as she can.
When Sam and Bucky place down their loads, Sarah whistles, getting their attention to wave Sam over. Bucky seems to think about following, but is soon distracted by AJ and Cass, excited to meet their uncle’s ‘cool friend.’ Sam chuckles as he tells them to behave, then makes his way over to his sister, a huge grin on his face.
“What’d I tell you? I knew we could make it work,” he says, spreading his hands. Just as confident as ever, she supposes. She rolls her eyes, but for some reason, she can’t stop smiling, and his grin fades a little. “What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?”
Sarah shakes her head. “Nothing. I just missed seeing you so happy,” she admits, because although they tease each other, although they bicker, she loves him. She has no trouble admitting she cares. Seeing the confusion on his face, she hops up to sit on the back of the truck, folding her hands in her lap. “You were gone. For a really long time. And that’s okay, I know what you had to do.” A pause. “When you came back all sad-puppy-dog in the rain that first night, my heart broke. I guess I’m just trying to say I’m glad my brother’s back.”
There’s another pause until Sam comes to sit beside her, so that their shoulders touch. He nods. “It’s been a rough couple years,” he murmurs, and she nods. It has been for both of them.
They gaze at the boys, who are excitedly coaxing Bucky to flex his metal arm, who has a confused look on his face as per usual. Sarah rests her head on Sam’s shoulder, just grateful to know she’s no longer so alone. And then she sits up, turning to face him.
“But enough of that sappy stuff,” she says. “Tell me about Bucky.”
He groans. “Don’t tell me his awful attempt at flirting was actually successful.”
“What?” Pulling a face, she shakes her head. “No, not that. Tell me about him. A guy that makes you smile that much is probably one worth keepin’ around.” She nudges his shoulder and he chuckles a little, his gaze returning to the man in question.
“You’re the second person who’s asked me about him recently.” He seems to collect his thoughts for a moment. “...He reminds me a lot of Riley, sometimes.”
Sarah nods, having expected something like that. “Is it the same?” Sam and Riley had always been close, but she had never seen them get physically close the way that Sam and Bucky did. Sam shakes his head.
“Some things are better. Some things are...more annoying.”
“It’s okay,” she assures, patting his shoulder as she slides off the truck to stand up. “In case you were wonderin’, I still know everything, and I also happen to know he feels exactly the same about you. He cares about you, and I know you care, too, so it’s up to you to do somethin’ with it.” She grins as a stunned look appears on his face, walking away before he can even think of something to reply with.
She hopes they can get their heads out of their asses and realize it. After all, having Bucky around could be pretty helpful.
5.
“I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” A lie. “But for what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.”
Things had gotten dangerously close for Sharon. Too close. Luckily, though, Sam and Bucky haven’t found out the truth. If they had...well, she doesn’t want to think about what she would have to do if that were the case.
But here he is, their new Captain America, standing there in front of her with a soft chuckle and a slight nod. “Thanks.”
“All right, look, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky interjects, sounding...somewhat annoyed, for some reason. Her abdomen hurts terribly, but it’s not like she can’t handle a single gunshot wound. Still, standing around probably isn’t going to do her any good, so she nods and lets Bucky guide her.
They walk in silence for a little while until she looks at him. His gaze is fixed ahead, maybe lost in thought about something. Her eyes narrow a little. “What was that all about?”
“What was what all about?”
“I mean, you basically cut Sam off. Why’d you wanna leave so bad?” Her interest is peaked when she notices that, despite the fact that his expression barely changes, his ears redden.
Bucky clears his throat. “In case you forgot, you’re kind of bleeding out here, Sharon.”
She huffs. “I told you, I’m fine.” Watching him for a moment, she attempts to piece the puzzle together. His eyes hadn’t left Sam since he returned with Karli’s body. Back at her apartment, he’d seemed almost angry when she had complimented Sam without his shirt on. It dawns on her and she smirks. “Oh, don’t tell me you have a crush.”
His ears redden further. She guessed right.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I like you?” Deflecting the accusation and dissing her all in one go. She’s almost impressed.
“We both know I’m not talking about myself.” She grabs his arm, and they both stop walking. He won’t look her in the eye. “Hey, it’s okay, all right? Your secret’s safe with me.” Of course, unless he gets in her way. That’s a bridge she’ll cross if it comes to it. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a great candidate for you.”
Bucky frowns, shaking his head a little. “...I don’t wanna talk about this.”
Sighing, she nods. “Of course you don’t. Look, you should just go for it. What do you have to lose?”
A flicker of pain flashes across his face. “Everything,” he mumbles, almost inaudibly.
“Sam wouldn’t leave you if he didn’t feel the same. You shouldn’t hide from him.” She winces, then, not quite sure why she’s giving him advice. If he knew the truth, he’d have left her to die. But she doesn’t dwell on that, feeling his hand on her arm to ground her, and they begin walking again.
Bucky doesn’t say anything else, and neither does Sharon. She might have gone down a different path a long time ago, but she still thinks they both deserve to be happy.
Unless, of course, they get in her way.
+1
It’s late when Bucky comes to Sam’s door, knocking quietly before opening it to stand in the doorway, offering a beer out to him. “Fresh air?”
Sam accepts, and they walk outside together, footsteps sounding in tandem on the empty dock. A fresh sea breeze whips past, but not enough for either of them to get cold, the smell of salt filling their noses and the last couple cries of the seagulls before they settle in for the night.
They stop in front of the boat, admiring the work they had done on it together. Sam breaks the silence first. “Thanks for helpin’ out. With everything.”
Bucky looks at him and nods. “You’re welcome.” A pause. “It’s nice here, you know. Quiet. Nothing like New York.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah, I think it is.”
They gaze at each other for a moment before turning to their bottles. Silence is filled by the quiet crashing of waves in the distance. There’s a tension there that hadn’t been there before; an unspoken understanding of the situation.
Sam looks at Bucky, noticing the way the shadows under his eyes look a little lighter than they had been before. Bucky’s jaw is clenched, showcasing the stubble he’s been letting grow out, and Sam can’t help but think he looks princely.
And Bucky looks at Sam, at the way the moonlight so perfectly etches his features, his eyes bright as they stare back at him. He remembers the way Sam’s eyes crinkle when he smiles, how he reminds him of a sunshine that had pulled him from the deep, dark abyss he had been stuck in after Steve left.
They aren’t sure how long they’ve been standing there, quietly. Two words tear from Bucky’s throat, like he has no choice in the matter. “Sam, I…-”
Instead of answering, Sam steps closer, cupping one of Bucky’s cheeks, smashing their lips together. It’s rough but sweet.  Sam tastes like vanilla. Bucky tastes like beer. And nothing has ever felt so right before.
Sam pulls away and chuckles. “I hope that was what you were gonna say.”
Bucky smiles, though his face is bright red, placing a hand on Sam’s hip to pull him closer. “Somethin’ like that. Want to say it again?”
“I like that idea.”
They suppose they can put the promise of ‘going their separate ways’ on hold for a little while.
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Illustrated Man l Spencer Reid Fic
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Pairing: Reader x Spencer Reid 
Category: Fluff
Summary: Spencer comes home from a particularly difficult case, and begins to doubt himself. Reader helps him unwind and helps paint a picture of all the great things about him.
A/N: Helloooooooo friends! Yet again, I thought of a single line of dialogue I really wanted to make work so I spit a thousand words around it to bring it to life lol. Anyways! This fic is free of reader pronouns and gender identifiers, so anyone can read this and make the “I”‘a their own ☺️
P.S. I’ll see what I can do about not disappearing again for weeks on end, but I make no promises
Content warning: None! Except Spencer has his shirt off? But that’s it!
WC: 2.4k
The sound of the door clicking shut and Spencer vacating his lungs of all air drew my head up from my book.
“You’re home!” I cheered, closing my book and getting up to greet him.
He lifted his satchel over his head and gave me a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes. I nodded, mostly to myself, knowing that this meant the case was harder than most. On nights like this, Spencer was hard to reach. I padded my way across the living room and wrapped my arms around him like he might slip away if I didn’t hold him tight enough.
I pulled his head down to rest on my shoulder as his arms snaked around me, wrapping himself in me, too. We stayed like that a while until he stood up and cupped my cheeks in his hands, bringing my face up for a kiss.
‘Hi,” he said softly.
I smiled into his palms. “Hi.”
I took his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles, then led him to our bedroom to get him out of his work clothes. I helped him out of his cardigan and dress shirt, then left him to do the rest while I got him some water. When I returned, he was laying face down across the bed in a pair of sweatpants. His head rested on his crossed arms, and turned to face me when I laid next to him on the bed. I propped my head up one arm and gave him a half smile.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
He thought for a moment before giving me a recap of the case, leaving out the gruesome details. I listened and ran my fingers across his back, alternating scratches with swirling patterns on the soft skin. Sometimes my hand would find itself at the nape of his neck and work through the hair there.
As he spoke, his voice became more resolved and tired. He worked so hard, but the things he saw, the things this job had put him through weighed on him. He was strong and incredibly smart, but just because he carried it well didn’t mean the load wasn’t heavy.
I took a deep breath and spoke gently, not wanting to offend him. “Maybe you can take some time off?” I suggested.
He shook his head, his chin brushing his hands folded under his chin.
“The team needs me. These victims and their families need me.”
I bit my tongue. I needed him, too. But this was hardly the time to bring that up.
“But this job,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “It takes pieces of me I can’t get back, and I’m scared all I am is the parts I’ve managed to pick up off of the ground.”
I closed my eyes and wished away the tears forming in my eyes. I heard him take a deep breath but he didn’t say anything else.
“I have an idea. Stay there.”
His head lifted and his eyes followed me around the room to our closet where my painting supplied resided.
“I’m going to paint you.”
“Paint me?”
I turned around, a towel in one hand and my box of paints and brushes in the other. “Yes. You’re gonna lay here and talk to me about anything in the world and I’m going to paint you.”
His eyes scanned the contents of my hands. I could see the gears in his head turning for a moment before he shrugged and gave a small nod.
“Okay.”
I ran a hand through his hair and bent down to kiss his forehead before climbing on the bed and straddling his thighs, setting my supplies on the towel beside us. “Talk to me.”
His head cocked to the side as he contemplated his answer.
“Not about work,” I clarified.
I felt his laugh beneath me. “Okay then, what would you like me to tell you about?”
I tapped my bottom lip with the handle of my paintbrush. “Hmmm. Read any good books lately?”
I could feel his smile without seeing it. If there was one thing Spencer loved more than saving lives and doing crossword puzzles in pen, it was reading. “I revisited some Ray Bradbury on the plane home,” he said.
“Mmm, tell me about it.”
He took a deep breath beneath me and began. “I re-read The Illustrated Man. It’s a compilation of short stories told through interactions between an omniscient narrator and a man covered in tattoos that each tell tales of events that have not happened yet. The tattoos are magic, and they come alive to tell the stories they depict. The stories are mostly science fiction, but have elements of pretty universal truths that Bradbury is famous for addressing.
For example, in one story explores the deep seeded longing of one man to take a trip to outer space. Something that, in this story, is attaintanable. He works his whole life to be able to fulfill this yearning, but he is torn between going or staying with his family, whom he also loves. It begs the question of the existence of duality of desire and duty.
Then, in another, there’s this incessant rain. And this group of men are searching for cover and sunshine, but it’s wearing them down and breaking them. These small raindrops, just water, becomes torture. It’s interesting how something as small as raindrops can break both canyons and men.”
I listen as he tells me about each story behind the man’s tattoos, about how they’re all different but important and lend themselves to portraying the then-futuristic perception world around us. Sometimes, his voice gets sad at the implications of the stories, but other times he seems to appreciate the sentiment behind them.
I dip my brushes and admire the way they drag across his soft skin, leaving a wake of vibrant pigments behind. I hmm and ahhh at appropriate times, partially paying attention but mostly glad that he’s able to enjoy himself and is able to think of something other than the darkness in his world.
We stayed in our respective positions for the better part of an hour- him laying on the bed with his head on his hands while I straddled the back of his thighs, stroking brushes across the lines of his back.
When I’m finally finished, I roll my neck and place my hands on the small of his back, taking a moment to take it in. The idea of creating a universe compelled me; there was so much beauty and so much unknown in the expanse of space. The concept seemed fitting for what I hoped to help him understand. I’d mixed a navy blue paint for a base, and created swirls of light with yellows, creams, and whites to create a brighter contrast and background for the more intricate featured parts. One section had books, a coffee cup, a molecular model I’d hoped was an actual chemical, and a small red apple.
The next was a canyon, modeled after one of the scenic drives we’d taken the last time we visited Vegas to see his mom at her new care facility. We parked at a lookout spot and watched the sun set- gorgeous oranges, yellows, and pinks painted the sky over the rock. It was at that moment I’d never been more jealous of Spencer’s perfect memory.
Another section, closer to the bottom curve of his spine was a silhouette outline of the Christmas card the team had sent out two years ago. Spencer had a copy hanging by a CalTech magnet on the fridge, another on his desk, and a folded and fading copy in his wallet.
He loved that photo – the way it captured their joyous spirits and ability to be carefree despite the things that initially brought them together.
I took a deep breath and playfully patted his bottom. “All done!”
He threw a boyish grin over his shoulder and handed me his phone.
I snapped a few pictures, holding the phone up by my chin to capture the expanse of his back, then a bit closer to the individual parts. I passed the phone back over his shoulder and brought my clasped hands up under my chin. “Okay, so, if you don’t like it, that’s okay you can wash-” I rushed, but stopped short when I felt his breath hitch from underneath me.
He was silent for a moment, staring at the phone in his hand.
I took a deep breath. “Spencer, you contain multitudes. You’re a loving son, an amazing friend, a brilliant profiler, a great cat-sitter, an instant mashed potato extraordinaire, and my favorite boyfriend.”
I dusted an invisible speck of dust off his shoulder before continuing, giving my words a moment to sink in. I needed him to hear me, and to know these truths. “You are so much more than the things you don’t love about yourself. You are more than this job, you are more than the obstacles you’ve had to overcome. They’re a part of who you are, yeah, but they’re not all that you are.”
I shook my head, though he couldn’t see it. The knowledge of the man beneath me not knowing he was deeply loved seemed so wrong.
“You are so incredibly loved, Spencer. The people in your life are so lucky to know you and to be loved by you. Each and every one of your friends is changed and is better for having known you, believe me.”
He was silent for a short while, pinching and zooming in on the screen to see the different parts of him illustrated in his skin. He cleared his throat a few times. Part of me was grateful I couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t seem mine. Though, I didn’t need to see the way his mind was working to know he was trying to find a flaw in my logic.
The amount of love I had for the man beneath me threatened to spill over in the form of tears.
“Favorite boyfriend?” he asked finally, feigning insult.
I laughed. “So far, yeah.”
I knew that wasn’t the only thing he’d heard, but probably was the only thing he could bring himself to comment on.
I scrambled off of my perch unceremoniously, stretching for a moment before straightening up and offering my hand. He laid with his chin resting on his fists stacked, staring at me for a moment.
“What?” I asked with a small huff.
“Being loved by you is one of the greatest joys of my life.”
I felt my mouth pop open, a bit taken aback at such a bold admission. A sweet smile touched his lips while he watched me try to scoop my heart back into my chest. He climbed off the bed gingerly, careful not to rock the tray of paint and brushes with his long limbs.
His large hand wrapping around mine grounded me from cloud nine and I could feel the smile forming on my lips. I turned and started heading towards the bathroom.
“Come,” I said, pulling him along behind me.
When we arrived in the small room, I halted and spun him so the back of his thighs were resting against the porcelain countertop and I was flush against his front. My hands came to rest on the edges of the countertop, caging him between my arms. I looked up at him, squinting slightly.
“I’d like to take a picture, is that okay?”
I knew Spencer was wary of having his picture taken; most of our pictures together were candids I’d puppy eyed my way into him letting me keep.
He narrowed his eyes back at me. My lower lip made an appearance, coupled with a knitted brow and cautious look from under my lashes.
He laughed and shook his head. “Okay.”
Before he could change his mind, I grabbed my phone and rushed back to my place in front of him, pressing my front to his.
I snaked my arms around his torso so our chests were together while his back bearing my painting faced the mirror. My arms poking out from between his arm and torso space made him look like an alien, but placing one hand on his hip while the other held my phone gave the pose a more artistic feel.
I snapped a few pictures, messing with the lighting and exposure, playing with shadows from the vanity and positioning him every which way. Every once in a while, I’d pull my arms from him and show him a few shots I liked but they never felt like the one.
He smiled and nodded encouragingly, taking my direction to tilt this way or arch his shoulder that way. I started to feel for him, we’d been there for 15 minutes at least.
I pouted and let my head fall back dramatically. “I give up,” I whined.
He gave a small smile and leaned down to kiss me. I met his lips with a smile of my own before resting my head against his chest.
“Try one more time,” he encouraged.
I nodded and wrapped my arms around him again. I poked my head out so it was just visible behind his arm, resting my chin on his bicep as I focused my phone camera to capture the two of us and my work on his back.
“Smile,” I said before snapping a few shots. Spencer’s body shook with his laugh as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head. My thumb grazed the shutter button, capturing the moment.
It was perfect.
His back was illuminated perfectly by the soft glow of the vanity mirror lighting, the muscles in his back tensed when he bent down, creating dips and curves that separated the focus points brilliantly. My hand wasn’t posed, just gently resting on his hip, a soft touch that lent itself perfectly to the lightness of the moment.
I pulled myself from around him and held the phone between us. His hand found the small of my back and he pulled me closer to him, sealing our lips together. Our lips were unhurried, enjoying the softness of the moment and the love between us. His free hand cupped my cheek as we broke apart. His eyes bore into mine, both pairs slightly glossy.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
I nodded and buried my head into his chest so he wouldn’t see the fresh tears springing in my eyes. His arms wrapped around me as he pressed more kisses to the top of my head.
——
Let’s talk about it!
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elriell · 3 years
Text
Throne of Glass: Re-Read Brief Thoughts/Moments
“I will not be afraid. For a year, those words had meant the difference between breaking and bending; they had kept her from shattering in the darkness of the mines.”
Friendships: 
Nehemia
“I’d like to see Eyllwe very much.” Nehemia’s gaze lingered on Celaena’s brow for a moment before she grinned. “Then it shall be so.”
“Cain and Verin laughed, but she and Nehemia walked away, the princess holding her hand tightly. Not from fear or anger, but just to tell her that she understood . . . that she was there. Celaena squeezed her hand back. It had been a while since someone had looked out for her, and Celaena had the feeling she could get used to it.”
“I sense much worry in you,” Nehemia said suddenly, “and I hear much that you do not say. You never voice any of your troubles, though your eyes betray them.” Was she so transparent? “We’re friends,” Nehemia said softly. “When you need me, I’ll be there.”
“No one has called me friend in a long time,” the assassin said. “I—” [...] “Thank you, Nehemia,” she said with sincerity. “You’re a true friend.”
“Nehemia squeezed her hand. “You’re my dearest friend, Celaena. It hurt me—hurt me more than I realized it would—to have things become so cold between us. To see you look at me with such distrust in your eyes. And I don’t want to ever see you look at me like that again. So I wish to give to you what I have given to few before.” Her dark eyes shone. “Names are not important. It’s what lies inside of you that matters.I know what you went through in Endovier. I know what my people endure there, day after day. But you did not let the mines harden you; you did not let it shame your soul into cruelty.”
“I name you Elentiya.” She kissed the assassin’s brow. “I give you this name to use with honor, to use when other names grow too heavy. I name you Elentiya, ‘Spirit That Could Not Be Broken.’ ”
“Our paths might be entwined, but . . . but I think you must continue to travel your own road for now. Adjust to your new position.”
Listen, I love them so much and it was so much more emotional reading this back. Their friendship was by far one of my favourites throughout the book, and I think I didn’t truly appreciate it for what it was worth the first time I read the book.
Chaol
“Friend?” he asked. She blushed. “Well, ‘scowling escort’ is a better description. Or ‘reluctant acquaintance,’ if you prefer.” To her surprise, he smiled.”
Despite myself I still adore their dynamic, I am a sucker for the reluctant friend, who starts slowly adoring the person. I felt for him and her at their own individual points. Even though tragedy awaits me ahead, despite myself I love them.
Dorian
“We all bear scars, Dorian. Mine just happen to be more visible than most. Sit there if you like, but I’m going to get dressed.”
“You deserve to be laughed at for such foolish thoughts! I spoke from my soul; you speak only from selfishness.
“You’re remarkably judgmental.”
“What’s the point in having a mind if you don’t use it to make judgments?”
“What’s the point in having a heart if you don’t use it to spare others from the harsh judgments of your mind?”
I did truly enjoy their dynamic through the book and though I didn’t ship it I certainly enjoyed their snarky banter.
Dorian x Chaol   (AKA one of my favourite lowkey dynamics)
“The worst of it was that they didn’t seem to notice he was different—or that he felt different. Were it not for Chaol, he would have felt immensely lonely.”
“You look radiant,” he said. “And you look radiant as well, Chaol.” He winked at his friend. ”
I just... Yes. This is my cup of tea, flirty guys. 
Nox
“Nox and Celaena remained by the table. His eyes were wide. “You were a slave in Endovier?” She couldn’t form the words to confirm it. Nox was too smart for his own good.”
I remember enjoying his part in the book and I am glad to say it remained so, I truly hope we see him again because they meshed really well together!
Fleetfoot
“It’s cruel to keep it from its mother!” The assassin reached into the shadow and scooped the puppy into her arms. She held it against her chest. “I won’t let you harm it.”
It has not truly begun yet but I know my furbaby is amazing.
Quotes I Loved:
“Oh, how wrong he was! Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons”
“I hate women like that. They’re so desperate for the attention of men that they’d willingly betray and harm members of their own sex. ”
“That pretty boy? He grinned at me far too much—and you should only see how he winked at the other women in the court. I want a husband to warm my bed, and my bed alone.”  [LOVE YOU NEHEMIA!!]
“And what’s wrong with headstrong girls?” she pressed. 
“No. I can survive well enough on my own—if given proper reading material.”
“My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered. “But it makes no difference if my name’s Celaena or Lillian or Bitch, because I’d still beat you, no matter what you call me.”
And finally....
“You could rattle the stars,” she whispered. “You could do anything, if you only dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That’s what scares you most.”
I know you will bby, I know you will.
 Urgh, wonderful. This book was like picking up an old friend, just as amazing as I remember it. At this point I doubt that there are many who haven’t read it but if you haven’t please give it a go if it sounds up your alley! 
On to Crown of Midnight!
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Meeting and Dating Scarecrow
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(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
- You meet Scarecrow when you’re transported to Oz. We all know that, in the movie, Dorothy hit her head and everything that happened was just a dream. But for the sake of these headcanons, let’s say that Oz is real.
- It had been a day like any other: you’d woken up, eaten breakfast, and gone outside to begin your work for the day. But what had initially been a normal morning, quickly became a dangerous and frightening one as the sky turned dark.
- Having lived in the town for a while, you knew exactly what this meant and headed straight for your cellar. You remained there for close to an hour, up until you couldn’t hear anything and we’re sure that the storm had passed.
- Upon trying at the cellar door, you found yourself struggling to lift the hatch. After a few minutes of shimmying, banging and pushing as hard as you could, the door finally began to lift up; though you found yourself still struggling to manage it.
- You squeezed your way through the crack you managed to form before you finally realized why you’d been struggling. The cellar was covered in grass, grass and dirt as though you’d broken through the ground itself. That was when you looked around and found that you were far from home.
- You were in the middle of some trees; very different from your farm, with bushes and flowers all around you. A few feet away, a yellow brick road led you down towards fields of corn. Well, ...you were either dead or dreaming.
- With nothing else to do, you began to walk down the road.
- Soon enough, you were led straight to the Scarecrow and much like in Dorothys case, you were shocked to find that the Scarecrow was; for all intents and purposes, alive.
- After the initial shock and your successful efforts to help him down, you explained to him what had happened to you and asked if he knew the way back to your city. Turns out, he didn’t even know where or what it was.
- With a sigh, you thanked him “anyways” and began to try and choose which direction you should walk in. As you were thinking, he cane up beside you and hesitantly suggested that he could go with you ...“if you’d like”.
- Who were you to refuse? Soon enough, the two of you were arm in arm and making your way down the yellow brick road.
- And thus began your journey, traveling through the different gardens and towns of Oz, trying to find someone or something that could bring you home. Along the way, you realize that you quite like the Scarecrow, far more than you’d anticipated.
- And that got you thinking that, perhaps, being in Oz wasn’t so bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a tragedy if you couldn’t find a way home. Maybe you’d like to stay.
- So when you were finally confronted with the idea of going home and the ability to do so, ...you were hesitant to take the chance. You took a long look around the fantastical place you’d traveled through; your eyes landing on the scarecrow in front of you and his teary eyes, and in a moment of revelation, you shyly confessed that you’d like to stay.
- In an instant, you were swept up into a tight hug and met with a chorus of cheers. And as your heart began to race in response to the Scarecrows joyful embrace, you realized that you were in a bit of trouble.
- So you begin your life in Oz, finding yourself a new home and trying to get situated in the whimsical place. It helps that you aren’t alone; Scarecrow comes to visit often and stays for hours on end.
- The thing about Scarecrow is, you can tell when he has a crush on someone, even before he realizes that he does himself. Though, because you don’t know a lot about Oz and the emotional range of a sentient Scarecrow, you try not to assume anything when it comes to his behavior.
“You know Scarecrow, you don’t have to come and visit me everyday if you don’t want to.” You told him one day, choosing your words carefully as to not make it seem like you didn’t want his company.
“Oh, but I do want to!” He assured you quickly and you gave him a smile.
“But don’t you ever want to spend time on your own, or with someone else? I just don’t understand why you want to spend a perfectly good day doing something boring with me when you could be doing something interesting with someone else.
“Well... I just like you a whole lot. That’s all,” He said at first before he furrowed his brows in thought. Though his next words were directed towards you, they seemed to be said more to himself than anyone else. “I like you bunches.”
“Well, I like you too.” You replied which seemed to ease his mind for the time being.
- He asked you out on a date late one morning, not too long after the two of you had that conversation. You should have seen how nervous he was, clutching a handful of flowers and fumbling with his clothing as he knocked on your door.
- He told you that he knew he was just a Scarecrow but that he liked you a lot and would like to give your relationship a try “if that was alright with you”.
- A scarecrow falling in love with a girl was surely a preposterous idea, but not as preposterous as a girl falling in love with a scarecrow which is exactly what had happened to you. All you could tell the straw man was that you “would love to” as you beamed up at him.
- You had a picnic for your first date though it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You had to try several different places before you found one that was perfect, but you choose to forget the giggling munchkins and violent mocking apple trees.
- You had your first real kiss about a week later. Before then, you’d kissed his cheek a few times but that was about it.
- The two of you were in the cornfields, you’d been teaching him “how to frighten things” when he finally managed to “scare away” his first crow. Both of you were laughing happily when he looked over at you, quickly leaning forward and pecking you on the lips.
- While the action shocked you, you couldn’t help but smile, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss in return. In that moment, your feelings were solidified and you couldn’t deny that you truly were in love with each other.
- He’s a very; innocently, affectionate person so expect him to always be close and/or touching you.
- Lots of hugs. It’s hard not to hug him when he’s so squishy.
- Soft, gentle kisses.
- Handholding. He finds it fascinating, mainly because your hands are so warm and soft while his are just a pair of gloves stuffed with straw.
- Locking elbows.
- Cheek kisses.
- Kissing his nose. How can you refuse something so inviting?
- Pecks on the lips. Sometimes he just pulls this face that all but forces you to do so.
- While he does like nicknames, he’ll usually just call you by your normal name. When he does call you by a pet name, it’s usually something like darling, sweetheart, and occasionally birdie.
- The two of you cuddle with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He’s pretty much a walking pillow so it’s incredibly easy to snuggle with him.
- He likes being helpful so don’t hesitate to ask him when you need some assistance; though he’ll usually offer it up on his own accord.
- He’s willing to go along with pretty much anything you’d like to do. He doesn’t manage nothing and he doesn’t mind anything either; he just likes to be with you.
- Clumsy boy. Don’t trust him with anything delicate and be prepared to try and catch him if, or rather when, he falls.
- Helping to keep him steady. You’ll have to hold him up at times, usually by wrapping his arm around your waist or shoulders when you’re walking together.
- Getting songs sung to and about you.
- Believe me, he’s clever, even if he thinks he isn’t. He gets all bashful whenever you tell him so.
- Helping him make up his mind. He thinks you’re incredibly smart.
- Visiting the tin man and cowardly lion. They grow to be very good friends of yours.
- Can we all just agree that he has a pet crow. Can we please just make that a fact. I need that in my life.
- Helping him pick up and stuff himself full of his fallen straw.
- Making faces at each other.
- He never is able to scare you, even if he thinks he’d like to. He’s just too sweet and lovable to scare anyone, especially the person who loves him the most. You reassure him that he can be frightening when he wants to be; though it’s a lie.
- He loves hearing about your world. I mean, Scarecrow hardly even knows about Oz, let alone a place that doesn’t exist where he comes from.
- Compliments. He can’t help but tell you how well he thought you did or how wonderful you look in your dress.
- Well, you’ll always know where to find him: the cornfields. He’s always jumping and excitedly greeting you whenever you come to visit.
- He loves resting his head in your lap.
- Dancing with each other.
- Picnics.
- Making flower crowns.
- Taking walks together.
- He’s honestly the easiest boyfriend you’ll ever have. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, and he’s never any trouble.
- He knows his way around Oz and it’s many interesting creatures so he’s always got a solution when you have a problem. He always shrugs it off and tells you not to mention it when you thank him.
- You aren’t exactly sure how he “works” and how he’s alive but you sure are glad that he is. He; in turn, is fascinated by your warmth, heartbeat and breathing; i.e. everything that shows that you’re alive.
- He’s always the first one to try and comfort you when you seem upset.
- He doesn’t really get jealous; he’s too sweet and kind. He might get a little grumpy and/or insecure but he doesn’t get angry; especially not with you. You can always tell that he’s “jealous” because he’ll linger at your side and get more touchy.
- He has a habit of speaking in your defense, even when there’s really no need. He just doesn’t want to see you get cheated out of anything.
- He’s not a very scary individual; much to his displeasure, but he isn’t afraid of anything besides a lighted match so he’s almost always willing to stand up for and protect you.
- He can get sorta spiteful every now and again; though not very often. Whenever he gets like this, he’ll try his best to give you the silent treatment. The thing is, he always winds up failing because he just can’t help but say something to you when you say something to him.
“Well, you know what!”
- He’s always fairly quick to apologize when he’s upset you or is otherwise in the wrong. He might not have a brain but he certainly isnt stupid and he’s able to recognize when he’s messed up. He can be very forgiving as well so don’t be afraid to try and apologize when you’ve messed up.
- Lots of sweet and chipper I love you’s.
- Living over the rainbow with a scarecrow that loves you to death. How could life get any better.
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