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batneko · 1 year

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Here's an idea I originally planned to write as another Bowuigi scenario post, but I decided to turn it into a ficlet because it would be too short. Now it's about 2000 words, lol.

It had been clear from the beginning that something as simple as a "Science Expo" wouldn't be simple at all in the Mushroom Kingdom. Luigi had been braced for disaster from the moment he heard about it, and Bowser's attack almost came as a relief.

No, his mistake had been un-bracing after Bowser was captured and locked in a cage one of the scientists had invented.

Sure, it looked sturdy. Sure, the scientist assured Princess Peach that the cage was completely indestructible. Sure, the only key had been moved from the display table to a security toad's neck after Bowser gave up on trying to bend the bars and started sneakily (as sneaky as anybody his size could be) reaching for it instead.

None of that was the problem. The problem turned out to be another experiment all the way on the other side of the hall that collapsed and caught on fire. That toad scientist said he wasn't even sure how it caught on fire - there weren't any flammable components! About half a second before the blaze spread to the next table, which happened to be full of chemicals, and turned into a giant green fireball.

"Okay, everybody out!" Peach exclaimed, calmly but firmly. "Evacuate the building. Walk, don't run!"

People tended to listen when the princess talked - Luigi supposed that was a skill you had to pick up when you ruled a country. But the fire was pretty eye-catching, and panic set in before he and Mario could start working on crowd control. There was screaming, running (what did Peach just say?), scientists attempting to pack up their exhibits, and for some reason several people tried to head for the same exits that the fire was creeping toward.

"Doesn't this place have sprinklers?" he heard Mario ask.

"I thought so," Peach said. "I don't know why they're not-"

An alarm started to blare, and then they all felt the sudden downpour of the sprinkler system. There was a mass exhale, relief settling in, calming the crowd.

And then something new exploded into flames.

"My elemental sodium!" a toad exclaimed.

Memories of 8th grade chemistry flashing through his mind, Luigi clenched his teeth and got back to guiding the evacuation. There was nothing he wanted more than to head for the exits himself right now, especially with the added discomfort of water dripping off his hat onto his nose, but a hero had responsibilities - and besides, he was the second tallest person in the room.

It only took a few minutes, nobody exactly wanted to stay, and then Luigi was safely outside and wringing water out of his hat. A disaster, but one in which no one got hurt. About the best he could have asked for.

The security toads were doing their jobs now, keeping the crowd away from the merrily burning building. The one with the key around his neck was explaining to a very distraught toad that if the fire didn’t ruin his cardboard model of a bathysphere, the water would. Which was probably ironic in some way.

Wait a minute.

Luigi lunged forward and grabbed the toad’s arm, startling both of them with how fast he’d moved. “Did you let Bowser out?” he asked.

The toad took a second to register what he’d said, glancing down at the giant key as long as his chest. “Oh! Uh, no. I didn’t think-”

“Give that to me.”

The toad obliged, struggling to get the chan over his head until he managed to pop the clasp in the back. Key in hand, Luigi took a step toward the building… and stopped. He looked back over the milling crowd, at Peach’s head of blonde hair. She was the only one tall enough to see, but Mario was rarely far from her. He could find him, ask him to…

No, there was no time. Gritting his teeth, Luigi ran back toward the expo hall to the sounds of several panicked shouts.

The heat was like walking into a wall. Since the fire started on the opposite end from Bowser’s cage, Luigi didn’t have to worry about actually dodging flames, but he could feel the heat and the smoke getting into his lungs. Pulling his shirt up over his nose and trying not to cough, Luigi made his way to the corner he’d been trying to avoid before.

Bowser was still sitting there, arms folded, scowling. He was looking at the floor when Luigi ran up, and Luigi tried to focus on getting the key into the lock with wet gloves on as an excuse to not meet his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Bowser asked.

“Getting you out of here,” Luigi said. Luckily the lock opened smoothly, and Luigi threw the door open so hard it clanged against the bars. "Come on."

The cage was too small for him, Bowser had to duck to get out the door, and as he straightened up to his full height for a second it felt like he was blocking out the sun. Luigi was very, very aware of the difference in their sizes.

He swallowed, forced himself to say, "This way," and tried to ignore the way it came out as a squeak.

"You're an idiot," Bowser said.

Luigi hadn't exactly been expecting to be thanked, but the insult didn't seem necessary. Just because they almost forgot him didn't mean they did.

But arguing would waste time, and the fire was still creeping along the walls where the sprinklers didn't reach. He adjusted his shirt again and turned toward the door he'd come in through, still open and still safe.

He hadn't taken two steps before a wooden beam crashed down in front of him. Luigi yelped and jumped backwards, hiding behind the first large object he saw - which turned out to be Bowser.

"Uh… sorry."

Bowser just shook his head.

There was more crashing, and the crackle of flames was a lot closer than Luigi liked. Had it spread to the ceiling already? If the walls weren't safe and the open spaces weren't safe, what were they going to do?

If anybody had remembered to let Bowser out in the first place they wouldn't be in this mess. Unfortunately, Luigi counted as "anybody," meaning this was as much his fault as anyone else.

"I'm sorry," Luigi said again. "Let's just make a run for it."

Bowser reached behind him and grabbed the back of his overalls, hoisting him into the air like a toy in a claw machine. Luigi heard himself squeak, then he was thrown back into the cage Bowser just left.

The door clanged shut, and Luigi’s heart sunk into his shoes. He was locked up. Just like Bowser had been, behind bars in a burning building, soon to be abandoned. Okay, they’d forgotten him, but did it really deserve this? Did Luigi really deserve to die over it?

He saw Bowser bend over next to the cage, grip the bars with one hand, and then he picked the whole thing up off the platform. Luigi toppled over onto the side, then back again as Bowser balanced the cage on his shoulder. What was he doing?

They turned back and forth. Luigi could see the fire creeping toward all the doors now. If they ran, and rolled as soon as they got outside - but the ceiling was still falling in too.

Bowser turned completely around, facing the back wall now. There was a small door near the middle, but the rest of it was nothing but windows. There was no safe path unless…

“No,” Luigi said, softly.

Bowser chuckled, and charged straight ahead.

For a few horrible seconds Luigi was aware of nothing but the smoke-filled air rushing past him as the wall got closer and closer. Glass shattered around them as Bowser kicked out a window and leapt through the frame, cage and all.

Bumping, rolling, and finally stillness. Luigi took a deep breath of still-smoky but much cooler air. He was tempted to scream. It wouldn’t accomplish much at this point, but it would make him feel better.

He yelped, at least, as the cage was picked up again. The door popped open and the box turned, and Luigi was shaken out onto the ground like the last penny in a piggy bank.

“Ow,” Luigi said.

“Wimp,” Bowser said. But his tone was light, and when Luigi looked up he saw him smiling.

He chucked the cage back over his shoulder, where it landed on the ground with a heavy thud and a gouge driven into the dirt. After a moment’s consideration Bowser threw the key in the same general direction, then turned back toward the expo hall, folding his arms and watching it slowly burn.

“This science expo thing’s more fun than I thought,” he said. “Maybe I’ll have one.”

Abruptly, he leaned over Luigi, really blocking out the sun this time. They were all alone out here, Luigi realized. Everyone else had evacuated out the other side of the building. If Bowser wanted to do anything to him, there was nobody to stop it.

But… he wasn't. And he hadn't. Right now he was just staring at Luigi with something like confusion on his face.

"You break anything?" Bowser said.

"No…" Luigi said. He'd been thrown around a lot, but he was used to that now. He probably wouldn't even bruise.

Carefully, Luigi climbed to his feet and brushed off any bits of broken glass or charred wood that had stuck to his clothes. Bowser quickly scrubbed a hand through his hair to do the same.

"Grazie- I mean, thank you for getting us both out," Luigi said.

Bowser rolled his eyes. "Don't do that. It's gross."

"What, thank you?"

"Ugh," Bowser said, so that must have been it.

Was that not what he'd been waiting for, then? Why did he keep looking at Luigi like that?

"Did you have to throw me in the cage, though?" Luigi asked.

Bowser shrugged. "That Poindexter said it was indestructible. You're not fireproof or roofproof, so I figured it'd help. Or whatever." He frowned, slightly. "Roof-proof. Roof, proof. That's a hard one."

While Bowser seemed interested in the pronunciation of the word he'd just invented, the specifics of what he'd said were sinking in for Luigi.

"You… are fireproof," Luigi said slowly.

"Ye-up," Bowser said.

"And roofproof?"

"Dunno about that one, but I've survived bigger buildings than this falling on me."

"And the cage is indestructible."

"Yyyyup."

Luigi buried his face in his hands. "I didn't need to go back for you at all, did I?"

"Nope," Bowser said, almost cheerfully.

"I'm an idiot."

"I told you you were."

Luigi groaned.

He ignored the guffaw of laughter next to him, and the massive hand that slapped his back. It was only when Bowser muttered something that Luigi forced himself to look up again.

It had sounded like, "Not like I don't appreciate it."

"What?" Luigi said.

"Nothing, shut up."

"I didn't-"

"Shut up," Bowser repeated firmly, and turned away from him to watch the burning building once again. One of the windows collapsed inward, and Bowser pumped his fist and gave an only slightly forced cheer. "Whoo! Good one."

For a while they both stood there, Luigi regaining his breath, Bowser apparently entertained by destruction. Bowser had said not to thank him, had told him to shut up, but Luigi had this feeling like… he was more bark than bite right now.

“Welp, I’m out of here,” Bowser said after a moment. “Much as I’d like to stay and watch the fire work, I’m not letting anybody lock me up again.” He gave a low growl. “Had enough of that for a lifetime.”

“Ah… take care getting home.”

Bowser gave him another odd look. “I don’t get you.”

“Don’t you?”

“I didn’t need saving. I don’t need your niceties.”

“It’s not for you,” Luigi said, “it’s for me. I’m doing - and saying - these things because I’d feel wrong if I didn’t.”

Bowser shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t get you.” He took a step in the direction his airship had gone when the crew abandoned him. “But uh… grazie, or whatever.”

Luigi blinked. “Prego,” he said, automatically, but Bowser had already started moving.

He stood there, alone, watching Bowser leave with nothing but the crackling of the fire to accompany the thoughts swirling in his head. Did Bowser know he’d just thanked him? He must, right? Luigi had said it right afterward.

Come to think of it, he’d have expected Bowser to be offended that Luigi thought he needed rescuing. But he wasn’t. He returned the favor, thanked Luigi, and walked away without causing any more trouble.

Was Luigi losing his mind? Was this smoke inhalation?

“Luigi!” he heard his brother cry out, and turned around to see Mario running at full-tilt across the grass. He braced himself just in time for Mario to grab him in a bone-crushing hug.

He knew he’d done the right thing, and he knew Mario would agree once he heard the story, but he still felt a little silly that he’d rushed into danger for the sake of someone who was danger-proof.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Luigi said. He glanced back over his shoulder, even though he knew Bowser was long gone.

Maybe that was it. Maybe so many people knew Bowser didn’t need rescuing that no one ever did it.

Maybe… Bowser had liked having a hero, for once.

#batfics #bowuigi #super mario bros #bowser #luigi #bowser x luigi #luwser #bowluigi

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

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Sjskwjskwk I had a cute random thought and I would LOOOOVE if you attempted it!! (Pretty please) Jus a cute lil short of reader attempting to make her own food because she feels she’s a bother to Sanji since he’s always making her things. Kind of like wanting to make him something in return but she fails miserable and he catches her in the act?? Idk random ik lmao but it would be darn cute😪😪💙

That’s TEW cute. Okay, enjoy!

Baking for Sanji (FLUFF)

WC: 900

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: None! Alotta fluff though.

“So two cups of milk—dammit where is the measuring cup?”

You managed to have the kitchen to yourself now that everybody has gone to bed. Even the cook of the ship considering he was exhausted from not only making meals all day but from having to fight off countless unneeded enemies that approached you all in the sea.

You couldn’t help, but notice how quick and swift Sanji was to save you from many close calls as you were fighting as well and he does it constantly. Sure, you all have grown to respect, know, and even become a family so it’s normal you all have each others back and it’s appreciated without saying, acts of service was everybody’s love language to each other including you, but you also wanted to give him a little something as a thank you. He mentioned he enjoyed a specific pastry once, but he never had the time to make it and you actually knew what he wanted because you’ve had it before in your childhood.

However you wasn’t a very good baker, but you wanted to try it none the less and surprise him that morning. As a thank you.

“Dang it!” You screamed the metal mixing bowl slipping from your clumsy fingers and crashing onto the recently cleaned floors. You mentally slap yourself hoping nobody heard and comes rushing in. It was already a pain to get Luffy out of the kitchen before you started.

The kitchen that was usually filled with delicious aroma that could overflow the ship was now filled with burning crust and sounds of the fire alarm going off. Your Sanji’s apron was covered in chocolate and flour as well as your hair, face and arms, you immediately grabbed a towel to fan out the smoke curses flow out your mouth of how annoyed you were at this whole silly situation and you hope Sanji doesn’t get too mad if he caught you ruining his kitchen.

“Y/N?”

You felt you organs drop down your stomach, you turned slowly, face hot as can be hoping it wasn’t the cook, but of course it was.

“What—what are doing? Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry!” You groaned in defeat leaning on the kitchen island, “I am I really wanted to make that chocolate pastry you liked and surprise you, but my dumbass can’t bake for crap so I thought okay maybe if I followed the directions I wouldn’t mess up, but half of your cookbooks are in French and I could only use the pictures, and then I panicked an—“

Sanji Just started laughing, his voice erupted in the room and bouncing off the walls, the look of pure horror and panic was so cute to him. He stared at you the entire time with big round hearts, you were so cute! You had on his apron that he never really cared to use, but it fit you like a glove, it reminded him so much of when he first started cooking. Of course he wasn’t angry, he was flattered.

“Hey! Stop laughing!” You poured out your lip sulking on the messy counter, he wiped his teary eyes and pulled out a cigarette to light before coming next to you and rubbing your back. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He would have ate it whether it came out perfect or burnt. The thought of you cooking for him out of the blue made him smile with glee. Sanji turned at the mess you made did happily sighed.

“How about we bake it together, sweetheart?”

You side eye’s him, your cheeks warmed again seeing as he was so close to your side, hand dangerously low on your back tracing shapes on your skin. He grabs the towel and wipes your cheek gently, earning him a small grin from you.

“You’re not mad?”

“Never! I could never be mad at you! It’s the thought that counts, my love! Besides you look so amazing in that apron!”

His heart eyes were all over your body, he truly adorned you and so you both spent the night in the kitchen baking and having some nice quality time together. Sanji usually doesn’t enjoy cooking with others, but you made it fun.

Mostly because all you did was keep him company as you talked and taste tested for him while sitting on the counter.

“And Voilà!” He pulled out the plate to you, they looked and smelled amazing, your eyes drooling over the sweet treats in front of you and there was no mess to clean afterwards.

“Perfect as always, Mr. Prince.”

He blushed, taking a pastry in his hand he held it up to your mouth , “Say ah.”

You do as told and took a bite, he smiled at your happy reaction to the taste, it was heavenly,

“Thank you! Next time I have to bake for you though!”

“No worries, Angel. Its my pleasure to feed you.” Sanji kissed your forehead before giving you another pastry to eat, but this time you pulled him in between your legs and fed him.

“Say ah.”

His face was so cutely pink as you placed it in his mouth to bite into making you giggle, it reminded you of when you were a kidand you expressed that to him before as he was mixing the ingredients which is why he made sure to take his time, because as much as you appreciated Sanji he damn sure appreciated you.

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howl-fantasies · 2 years

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Hey! It’s me again, after a while; I was wondering )if your requests were open) if I could request a oneshot about (Gotham) Edward Nygma alongside any other Gotham charecter, who have a very pristine and classy significant other who they work alongside, and one day said S/O is sat in their apartment (or place of residence) with their hair in rollers, with a face mask on, eating some sort of fast food watching, some reality TV show like ‘Say yes to the dress’ and is acting very different to their usual somewhat glamorous self.

I thought of this a while ago as I have recently been able to relax as my uni work load has been put on hold for the summer holidays! Woo Hoo! Anyway, I appreciate your work and Ishiguro do not wish to complete this request that is absolutely fine.

- Elsie x

Hello there dearie!

Oh my lord, I absolutely love the concept! Gotham's men NEED to learn nobody never wake up with a full makeup on and don't turn on themselves like the Sims when they jump out of bed to look perfect. I had so much fun imagining our guys having a mental breakdown seeing their S/O "off" mode.

So, here it is :

GOTHAM VILLAIN WALKING ON THEIR S/O WHEN THEY ARE ON THEIR "OFF" MODE

EDWARD NYGMA / THE RIDDLER

Edward was having a "meh" day. One of those during which nothing seems to surprise / interest him. It happens, you know, him being a genius and all, he sometimes finds himself being bored. But you, his stunning, witty, classy partner would know how to make his day better, he knows it.

Unsuspecting, he used the spare key you gave him a month ago and walked inside of your apartment, ready to see his day brightened by the simple view of your impeccable self. How lucky of a man he was.

"Dear?" He would call when you weren't here to greet him like you usually did. He sent you a text before coming, he was certain.

He heard the noise of your TV, pretty loud, so it was why you didn't answer. Was it also why you didn't read his text? Strange, he pictured you more like the kind of person to be lost in a book or something. But that was ok, he also had his times when he needed to put the thing on, to hear the news about him, for instance. Though, the high pitched female voices started to make him doubt you were watching Gotham News.

Nevermind, he followed the voices to your living room and brutally stopped when he saw the back of your head. What was the bright pink fluffy thing in your hair?! He had to open his mouth when he hear you. "Are you kidding me, look at you Meredith?! You look like a freaking pièce montée with that!" Did you hurt your mouth or something, you sounded like something was stuck inside of it (not something under 18 here, everybody keep calm please!)

"My love?" He asked.

"Oh fuckity Shitty Fuck!" You screamed, making one hell of a jump. Now on your feet, you were facing him, absolutely horrified.

You decided you needed to let your "on" mode cool down a bit today and since no robbery nor abduction were on your calendar, you wanted a little "off" time mode only for you.

Off time, meaning here: putting a bluish moisturising mask on your face, putting your favorite pink rabbit ears headband, your fluffy pajamas and slippers. You ordered a pizza earlier with soda and finally decided to watch your favorite trashy tv show. And here you were. Gawking like an idiot in front of your boyfriend, who looked like he was considering calling a priest to exorcise you or something.

"Ok, Ed. Please don't panic." You said, making an appeasing gesture with your hands.

"Don't panic?! Don't p-... Dear, what happened?! Did you encountered Jerome and he forced you in a weird disguise? Or am I hallucinating?!" He squeaked suddenly reaching for his wrist to check his own pulse.

Ok, he was totally panicking... "Ed..." You called again with a sigh, feeling your hand brush against your dry mask on your forehead. "Dear, it's not an attack or a prank or anything. I'm just taking a little time for myself, like... pampering, see what i'm talking about?."

Hearing your resigned voice and the little bit of annoyance in it, he stopped his frantic health check. Ok Eddie, time to think like a grown man.

Please make some space for Mister Riddler in his inner mental theater. Y/N is a human being, pretty much like him. A beautiful human being with a sumptuous as-... *Sorry Ed had to mentally punch him to keep him on track.* Ahem, like he was thinking before being brutally interrupted, Y/N is a human. Like him they have morning hair, don't always wear makeup nor impeccable clothes, and they must have to work hard to keep their skin so smooth and beautiful and...

"Ed?!" Now you are the one looking for his pulse. When you caught his gaze, you find this little light, you know, the one meaning someone FINALLY had put two and two together DUH.

"Y/N, I got it." He said, putting his hands on your shoulders and taking a long inspiration. "Of course i did. I'm a genius. Pampering, taking a self-care day, feel comfy and all..." But he suddenly turned you around to face the TV, "I got everything, except this! I mean, what the hell is this?!" He had to point the tv with his index for good measure.

He never watched "say yes to the dress." Of course he hasn't. Poor dude was too busy cracking puzzles and riddles. He's pretty confused here. You will have to explain how in hell this trashy thing is helping you feel relaxed.

Or don't, after all, it could be a pretty good opportunity to explain your lover you both have your hobbies and have to respect it ;).

Would totally be ok with you taking care of his skin and his nails. And the man would be super proud of it let me tell you. If someone messed with his fresh manucure, he would immediately turn to you / call you and apologize. "I'm afraid, we'll have to plan another self-care session my dear. Sooner than expected". (Relationship goal here!)

OSWALD COBBLEPOT / THE PENGUIN

Oswald being Oswald, he would HAVE to walk on you on one of his worst days.

His mood was terrible and he seriously was in need of a good hug, a good vent and probably his mother “special bad days” tea.

Since you moved in with him a few weeks ago, his first words to poor Olga when he went through the main doors were “WHERE IS Y/N?!” of course he had to yell even if the woman was not even a meter from him, taking his coat, hat and umbrella with a calm we all have to acknowledge. The maid will simply point in direction of the living room, keeping her smirk well hidden. Poor boy is up for a good and well deserved shock in here.

Oswald would limp in a rush to you, grumbling like an old man all along, and couldn’t wait to have you listen about his terrible day and the bunch of idiots he had to deal with.

“What the hell happened?!” He heard you scream in outrage when he was a few steps away from your position. He felt a smile growing on his face. Of course you would be concerned about his distress, you were like this with him, a worrywart, but his worrywart and he was the same with you.

“Thank you! Someone at least is able to read the mood in a room”, he had to say, glaring at Olga who, again, shrugged and get away to dust the stairs. She wasn’t going to miss the show. No way.

“No seriously, what happened to you poor thing, what did they do to you?”, Y/N cooed from the couch.

Finally, Cobblepot emerged from the hallway, his mouth ready to answer them when all the air he took to do so was sucked out of him. “M-My dear?” He called.

Y/N tensed on the sofa. Oh dear hell. Oh no.

No excuse was good enough to explain your current state: slumped on the couch, a tiger face mask, bright yellow and blue unicorns air clips and the worse? Fluffy pajamas with a penguin and a polar bear walking hand in hand on the snow, with the sentence “Take it slow in the snow” sewn under them. No. Nope. Nu-uh. You were doomed.

Y/N smiled awkwardly and made a stupid little wave with their hand. “Oswald...Dear...Well...Hello?”

His deafening silence was maybe worse than his higher screeches. When he finally opened his mouth, they were covered by the sound of the tv. “Oh my god, yes! Yes it’s the one!”

His eyes followed the female voice and took a long look at the screen. “Is it “say yes to the dress?” He suddenly asked.

You were dumbfounded a second, frowning your brows but finally answered a low “yes?”

He would stay silent and resume his walking until letting himself fall ungracefully next to you and start to watch.

“Oswald? Are you ok?”

He nodded once, his eyes still on the screen. “Mother used to watch it with me and we would talk about my day.”

Oh. Oh! Ok, Y/N can definitely make it their ritual. “Want to do it dear? I have another face mask and was about to ask Olga for another tea. How does it sound?

Sounds perfect. Cobblepot will 100% adopt this ritual and talk about his terrible day while you apply some cucumber on his tired eyes. He knows how to do perfect manucure (mommy boy, remember?) and would help his S/O with their nails, hair, skin... everything.

Their self care is as important as taking Gotham’s throne. Anybody interrupting them would be dead. And “Say yes to the dress” will stay, giving the two the perfect opportunity to bond even more about fashion. Oswald is also a very talented tailor after all, so he knows what he’s talking about. Enjoy!

VICTOR ZSASZ

Since when didn’t he stalk you? A day or two? He was letting his guard down. What if you suddenly decided to run away, change city, were shot by a lunatic... and here it goes, his brain started to panic. He was pretty busy lately, thanks to Jim, Harvey, and every idiotic cop in the city suddenly realizing their job was in fact to arrest criminals, not taking their money and looking the other way. Aah...Good old days...

Anyway, nothing now was about to stop him to go to his S/O. Even if you gave him a key, (please don’t) he would prefer to pick the locks of your door, you know...for the thrill and everything. And, I mean, I you’re lucky enough to have survived Zsasz, it probably means you have some strong sense of self preservation and weren’t foolish enough to give the sadist your keys.

When your door finally opened, he went inside of your flat like a shadow, grinning like a madman about the idea of giving you the scare of your dear life. God knows he loved to make you jump and see the rush of adrenaline in your body.

Your TV was on, he could tell, the sound of a few people resonating inside of your flat like they were with you in your living room.

Another sound made him stop for a second: someone drinking the end of a soda or a milkshake. Super loud at that. Who would have known the perfect little Y/N, always sipping their beverage like a posh aristocrat was enjoying a cheap one like any commoner on earth. How funny.

You wouldn’t even realize he was next to the couch. Not until you heard him giggle stupidly making you scream bloody murder and throwing your now empty milkshake at his head.

Being the troll he is, Victor would dodge it without even giving you a glance and lazily point at the screen saying something stupid like: “the previous one looked better uh?”

Don’t strangle him on spot. Or do it, not sure here what he may enjoy the most...

When your heart would finally stops its marathon, you would be able to take a better look at the picture: him, standing next to the couch arm, his left forearm on the top of the furniture, his right hand on his hip and his legs crossed, taking a good look at you, his S/O.

Currently rolled like a burrito in a fluffy purple plaid with only your head, hands and socks visibles. Are these little pizzas on your socks and headband by the way? And are you really wearing a panda face mask?

You were ready to punch these questions back deep inside of his throat as soon as he will ask them and make him gulp his stupid smirk. Though, you weren’t ready for his gaze to shift from your eyes and face to your table and the “is it pepperoni?” He stupidly asked, pointing at the pizza your were eating earlier like an hungry wolf. You hoped he didn't see it...

Breathe, in and out. It’s the key.

"You really are full of surprises, love." He teased, too happy to see your obvious discomfort.

Option A) giving him the middle finger. Proceed with caution though, he's really good at shooting fingers.

Option B) Scream ugly profanities at his dumb face. Good to vent, but he wouldn't give a f. Just enjoy it more and more.

Option C) slouch back on the couch and throw him the pizza's menu. "you pay for the next and the milkshakes." And wait for his lazy ass to seat next to you, because he will. Oh. And if you feel confident enough, don't hesitate to slap a ridiculous face mask on his already ridiculous face. Yes he doesn't give a shit about looking like an idiot but you wouldn't be the only idiot in the room anymore. 👍

A/N - I hope you liked it, have a beautiful day dearie 🥰💐

#gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #gotham fox #victor zsasz #victor zsasz imagine #victor zsasz x reader #gotham fandom #gotham villains #gotham incorrect quotes #edward nygma #edward nygma x reader #oswald cobblepot imagine #gotham oswald cobblepot #oswald cobblepot x reader #gotham headcanons

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here-have-some-stories · 2 months

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Massacre Masquerade Chap 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 4

Leon sat up suddenly, awoken by some loud sounds. Deacon and Bailey woke up when a second round of the same noises went off. They both looked startled and slightly panicked. Leon was panicked too. Those sounds had been the sound of gunshots.

The three new friends looked at each briefly, silently asking what they should do next. Without saying anything, Bailey stood up and ran over to the ladder. Shortly after her body disappeared down the side of the building.

“Bailey, wait!” Leon screamed out, scrambling to his feet to go after his sister. “You don’t know what’s down there!” Leon ran to the edge of the building, right by the beginnings of the ladder, and stared as Bailey dropped to the ground and ran towards the entrance of the building.

Leon became aware of Deacon’s presence next to him. He too was helplessly staring at the ground where Bailey had just been. Deacon and Leon glanced up at each other.

“Is she always this insane?” Deacon asked Leon. Leon shook his head in bewilderment.

“She’s always been curious, but she’s never run straight into danger because of it!”

“Well,” Deacon said, “curiosity killed the cat.” He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it when he looked at Leon’s face and saw the fear in his eyes. Fear for his sister. “Sorry,” Deacon said. He glanced back down the ladder again. “We might as well follow her, to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” Leon nodded in silent agreement, too scared to say anything. He followed his new friend down the ladder, and the two of them ran back into the building.

The ballroom was an eruption of chaos when they entered. People were running around, screaming and in a complete panic. Leon stepped back as two people shuffled past them. One of them was supporting the other one, an arm around their waist, helping them move through the crowd. The supported person was looking really pale, and had sweat running down their face, holding onto their companion with their arm around their shoulder. Leon noticed what he could only assume was a bullet wound in the person's leg. Deacon must have noticed it too, because when Leon glanced at him, he saw horror in the other man's eyes.

Deacon gasped, and Leon turned his direction to where Deacon’s horrified face was now looking. The sight was indeed horrifying. Right in the middle of the room, three bodies were scattered, each with multiple bullet wounds scattered across their bodies. Blood soaked their costumes and masks, seeping onto the floor in a slow moving pool of crimson. It didn’t take a detective to know they were dead as stone. Leon felt sick at the sight of them.

Sirens started blaring from all corners of the ball room, the noise just adding to the chaos. Deacon and Leon simultaneously moved their heads to see rolling garage doors coming down and blocking all the exits, mini ones blocking the windows. Everybody’s panic increased. There were cries of, “We’re locked in!” and “We’re in some really deep shit now!”

The sirens stopped when the doors hit the ground, and a brief high pitched screech came from the speakers, silencing everyone as they instinctively put their hands up to their ears. A voice started to talk from the speaker.

“Attention new knights! The building is going to go into lockdown. Nobody is going to be getting in, or out. Not until we find whoever is responsible for this madness. We suspect that this was a murder attempt, and the culprit is in this building. Until we catch them, nobody is to leave. You may be locked up in here with a maniac, but at least they won’t be able to escape outside and cause more havoc. And as knights, one of the first things you would have learned on your training, is that you need to protect society, and make sacrifices sometimes.

‘We have investigators making their way over to the building right at this minute. They will be granted access, but nobody else. For now, I advise all of you to stay calm. And stay away from people. In this situation, we don’t know who you can trust, so until it is sorted out, keep to yourself. Needless to say, the ball is cancelled.”

The silence stretched on for a while after the announcement, but the fear in everyone was clear. Some people started casually moving away from peers, others not so casually.

Leon scanned the ball room, in an attempt to find his sister. He found her sitting against a wall, and ran over to her. Deacon followed.

Bailey had her knees drawn up, and her face buried in them. Her arms were raised and she was blocking her ears with her fingers. Even when Leon and Deacon approached, she still didn’t look up. Leon kneeled down in front of her and gently grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands down. Bailey looked up at him and Leon saw there were tear tracks down her cheeks. Leon shuffled to sit directly next to her putting his arms around her shoulders, and Bailey leaned into the comfort.

Deacon stood by, unsure on what to say or do. He looked questioningly at Leon. Leon understood.

“She doesn’t like loud noises or big crowds,” he explained. A look of understanding crossed Deacon’s face.

Eventually, everybody started to calm down, and so did Bailey.

I finished it! What did you think? Comments, feedback and suggestions are very very much appreciated. Now the fun is really starting to begin -Kenickie

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the-haunted-office · 10 months

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( @systemadministratorclu - Continued from here!)

The parts of him that black out temporarily does make him quite a bit nervous, but he can’t help that - he is one dude who is prone to panicking. He tries his very best to contain himself, though, because the doctor hasn’t done him any harm yet. The contrary, actually - he’s fixing him and helping him feel better. His panic gradually wanes when everything comes back better than before.

The question catches him off guard though and he stops in the middle of rocking back and forth and blinks. “Uhhh, you know, I uh, I hadn’t really thought about that. Suppose I ought to get back to the office, but- Well, I mean, they installed a management rail system in there for me! Which was nice of the, but they don’t have a doctor, and, ah...”

He trails off, not really sure what he should be doing now. He’s never had this much freedom. Nobody bossing him around and moving him from job to job. Actually, he doesn’t even have a job now, so he’s left sort of out of sorts.

“Could I- Could I maybe just- maybe have a little bit to think that over? It’s just that, well I only just got back to Earth a short while ago and I don’t really know what I’m doing here...” He trails off, and then because he doesn’t want anybody to think he’s being ungrateful he suddenly winds back up: “I mean, I suppose I could stay here! Why not? I’m a machine, Hal’s a machine, you work with machines, makes a whole lot more sense than some office full of ghosts, yeah? So, tell you what, I’ll just pop on back there and let everybody know what’s up, and then I’ll just- I’ll just come back here. I mean... I have to figure out how to get back there in the first place, but you get what I’m saying, yeah?”

#systemadministratorclu

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studiomkm · 11 months

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Escape Reality: Welcome New Player

Another world, separate from our own but still able to be accessed by some miracle or another.

It’s the sort of thing you read or see or listen to pretty frequently in fiction, especially manga. The trope’s pretty overused, when you look at the numbers, but nobody really cares when it provides such an effective escape from our actual reality. The fantasy of getting out of the perpetual meat grinder that is modern living is just too good to pass up when one has no choice to live in said meat grinder.

Everybody in the world was caught by surprise when somehow… some way, the fantasy became fact.

Of course, it took a while for anyone to realize that it was fact. The first sign of the creation of the new world was something unusual but not so out of the ordinary, the temporary takeover of every smartphone in the world. Simultaneously, each and every one of them received a video message that opened on its own. The video was just a generic VTuber announcing that the modern world had finally met its end. Everyone thought it was some cyber terrorist attack at first and it wasn’t until the first wave of disappearances that the world at large started to take the video seriously.

Literally overnight over 300 people went missing at almost the exact same time from locations all around the world. Only their smart phones were left behind and the only evidence those provided was a web link to an invitation that didn’t work when everyone else clicked on it. People were freaked out but nobody actually panicked, not at first. After all, it was just another terrible thing to happen in a non-stop parade of terrible things.

When 1000 more people went missing almost every day for the next several months, that’s when people started to take it all seriously. China and Japan outlawed smartphones altogether and there was a massive push in the United States to do the same but those efforts were constantly thwarted by the political machine. American politicians simply blamed the disappearances on a lack of personal responsibility, younger generations’ “addictions” to smart devices, and a thousand other things but never actually did anything to prevent more disappearances.

Then one day, somebody came back; Masaru Fujita. It has he who explained that everyone hadn’t simply gone missing. They were all in another world, one that revolved around points and games. Of course, everybody who was familiar with Japanese artworks like manga and anime immediately assumed that it was all part of some death game and the panic went back into full force for a while.

It took a full year and a half for Masaru to finally convince everyone of the truth. Everyone who had gone missing could come back any time they wanted to, they were just far happier staying in the other world. From the descriptions Masaru gave all the rest of us around the world, it wasn’t really surprising as to why either. It sounded like a paradise to the vast majority of us who had struggled and scraped and saved only for the world to tell us that we still weren’t good enough and we never would be.

Once the panic about the other world had finally died down, the American government finally got around to banning smartphones as well but at that point it was too little, too late. The US’s younger population had decreased nearly 60% in the time it took them to realize that they’d shot themselves in the foot. The matter was considered over and nearly every day, every source of media we still had access to bombarded those of us left in America about the evils of the other world.

It just made all of us even more miserable and they knew that but they didn’t care. All that mattered was the status quo, regardless of the fact that the status quo was just making everything worse for everybody. Personally, I’m convinced that too many people are still under the illusion that things will somehow go “back to normal” but normal can’t really exist anymore in a world that’s had to deal with something that alters the mentalities and numbers of the global population to such an extreme.

As for me, I was one of the ones who never got an invitation to the other world. The Unworthy, as we tend to be called in the circles that obsess over the other world. Maybe that’s a bit harsh, or even entirely untrue, but it’s a moot point at any rate. I still live in the real world, which means I have to get a job to make money to try (in vain) to afford any semblance of decent living. Not that I can really call it living.

“Get off your ass.”

I turn and look at my cranky boss right after she says the words. She’s looking down at me the ugliest scowl, the kind of nasty look I imagine people gave to lepers back in the day. During the first year of my employment as a self-checkout cashier, I’d have cowered away from it but those days have been over for a long while.

“Believe it or not, my ankle… which I gave you a doctor’s note for, I might add… is still injured. It takes more than a day to heal properly, Yolanda,” I tell her in the most deadpan tone I can muster.

“You’re lucky we’re understaffed right now, you little punk, or I’d fire your ass so fast your head would spin,” she snarls at me, lowering her volume as a customer steps up to one of the machines.

“Talk to me like that again and you won’t have to fire me,” I warn her, not yelling but definitely making sure I’m loud enough to be heard by any customers nearby.

Her face goes red and I’m sure she’s ready to slap me but I’ve got all the leverage here and we both know it. The drastic decline in the working population made the value of labor skyrocket. Nobody really gets fired anymore and the constant attempts at employee poaching from one company to the next got so out of control that the department of labor had to step in and create an entirely new division to regulate it.

Yolanda storms away and I roll my eyes before asking the customer at self-checkout 2 if they need any help. They don’t, of course, and I get back to the small book I’d brought to keep myself occupied. It helps make the rest of my 9 hour shift go by a bit faster and when it’s finally over, I shake hands with my replacement before hobbling awkwardly to the time clock. Yolanda’s there waiting for me, looking like the cat that got the canary.

“Good shift?” I ask as I start punching myself out.

“Your last shift,” she says as she hands me a notice of termination.

My eyes go wide as I’m genuinely surprised she got the store manager to sign off on that but there it is, with his signature on the bottom. She shoves it into my chest so hard I actually tumble backwards into the wall. Part of me is surprised she’s not laughing like a cartoon villain as I struggle to maintain any semblance of balance with only one good leg to stand on but that part’s overshadowed by the sight of the general manager himself standing right behind her with a very upset look on his face.

“Yolanda. My office. Now,” John commands in a tone of voice so low I confuse him for Keith David for a second.

The man, an Army veteran who got an honorable discharge and never took anyone’s crap, was always imposing but I’d never seen him angry before. He was genuinely pissed at Yolanda and, even with my termination paperwork clutched awkwardly against my chest, I actually feel a bit sorry for her. The woman in question practically bolts away from the two of us and I’m left alone with John. He sighs and gives me a genuinely apologetic look.

“Sorry this is kinda coming out of nowhere for you but my hands are tied on this. Corporate’s making every store lay off one cashier to offset costs or some other nonsense. If I was allowed to choose one person from any department, trust me when I say you wouldn’t have even been on the list.”

“It is what it is,” I reply with a shrug, “Not like losing your job’s as big a deal as it was with my parents. I’ll get another one before too long, just a bummer it’s happening right when I was finally getting comfortable here.”

“I hear that and hey, if you want a reference you put me down. I’ll give you a good word whenever you need,” John says with a friendly slap on my shoulder.

“Thanks John. If it’s alright, I’m just gonna drop by the deli on my way out, get some dinner. I know they just made a fresh batch of tenders and you know Gabe’s tenders are magic.”

“Oooo, yeah. I forgot Gabe’s covering for Abby today. Hey, get me a pound too. I’ll comp us both. A little farewell gift for you,” he offers.

I gladly take him up on that and wish him well as I peel off the apron and nametag that marked me as an employee and put it on Yolanda’s little stand by the time clock. I grab a small shopping cart to help steady my walking and grab me and John a pound of tenders apiece before dropping them off and making my way out the door.

To my surprise, Mom’s already waiting for me as I leave the store and I can see the car parked not too far from the entrance. I ask what she’s doing and she just says that she didn’t want me walking around the parking lot or just waiting around for her like I usually do. We get in the car and she asks how my day went. Of course, there’s really only one piece of news about my job to tell.

“What do you mean they fired you?!” she shouts so loud I actually flinch from the volume, “Nobody fires people anymore unless they’re doing something criminal!”

“Or corporate told the managers to lay people off to cut down operating costs, which is what happened to me. I’m still the newest cashier so I got the axe by default.”

Despite my explanation, Mom’s still clearly upset. I can’t really blame her; she’s still stuck in that old school mindset of how getting a new job used to work. I might not have any college paperwork, no way I could afford to pay out that much money, but it’s not like getting something else is gonna be all that hard. Plenty of places are still hiring as much as they can.

The rest of the ride home is quiet and Mom helps me inside before plopping in front of the TV to watch the news. I can hear yet another roundtable discussion on the impact the new reality has had on the real world and tune it out as I head to my own room and sit down in front of my computer. I pop on an episode of my current streaming show to watch while I eat my chicken when an email notification pops up to block a significant section of my view.

I try to click it away but accidently open up my email with it instead. A growl escapes me and I’m ready to punch a hole in my monitor but an impossible name in my inbox catches my eye: Corey Goldberg. Corey and I were best friends all throughout high school and even for a good few years after we both graduated but time and distance caused us to drift apart. The last time I tried to get in touch with him for old time’s sake, I learned that he had gone missing and the investigation into it declared that he had “been taken” by the new reality. My curiosity spikes and I open the email as fast as my mouse clicking finger will allow. The contents are brief but mind blowing.

You have been invited to Escape Reality.

Right below those words are two buttons labeled “Accept” and “Decline”. It’s an invitation… the invitation. The details match up perfectly with everything I’d found out about the disappearances before the governments of the world cracked down on the information and tried to make it all vanish forever. The biggest clue that it isn’t just some scam is that it’s been written in Haettenschweiler font, a detail so obscure that only those of us who managed to watch the first interview with Masaru Fujita before all copies of it were deleted forever could have ever known about it.

Just three years ago, I would have clicked the accept button without a second thought but back then I was struggling to live on my own in a shitty apartment I paid too much for while constantly trying to find a job that would actually pay me enough to live off of. The only reason I moved back in with my mother in the first place was to save up to finally buy my own home.

I know what it’s like in there though, thanks to Masaru Fujita, and I could probably get my own home even faster in there. I could finally stop feeling like such a loser. Might even work up the nerve to try dating, once I have a place I can call my own that isn’t infested with spiders or roaches. The only thing that gives me pause is the thought of how my mother will react.

Dad left years ago, not too long after I reached my 20s, due to his growing discontentment with his place in the world. The rest of my blood-related family all fucked off years ago after they squeezed every last bit of financial aid and free babysitting they could out of my mother, my father and me. I’m really all she has left right now but is it fair to me to let that keep me here? For that matter, it is really my responsibility to be solely responsible for her happiness for the rest of my life? It’s not like she’s trying all that hard to make friends or get back into the dating scene.

I agonize about the choice until the clock hits 3 AM. At this point, especially after having worked a long day whilst injured, I’m cranky and irritable. I’m obsessing over every time I can remember being slighted or passed over and just getting angrier and angrier. I’m remembering giving up the last of my teen years to work to provide at least some small money to my family after my parents had lost their cushy underwriting gigs, all the while being chastised for not devoting myself full time to college.

I’ve spent years putting myself either second or just dead last and now I’m agonizing over how terrible I would be for putting myself first. Still angry, I stomp over to my desk, write out a quick note telling my mom I was leaving, and click accept on the email before I can start thinking myself back into inaction again.

My pulse is still racing as I stand in front of the computer, waiting for something to happen but nothing really does. No big beam of light shooting out from my computer, no suddenly falling unconscious, no mysterious portals opening up under my feet… nothing.

“Oh come the fuck on…” I whine pathetically, realizing I just fell for some elaborate prank after spending hours hyping myself into clicking a damn button.

Tears of bitter frustration run down my face and it’s another few minutes before I can do anything other than just stand there and silently cry. When I finally muster up the will to move on from my disappointment, I turn my computer off and try to ignore the now-cold chicken sitting next to it as I saunter off to bed and just collapse. There’s barely enough will or energy in my body to roll onto my back, so sleep takes me easily once I’m facing the ceiling.

No dreams come to me in my sleep, just an empty void I find myself somewhat conscious of. I suppose if I were fully in my own mind, I’d be terrified. As I am now, however, the void is just… kinda there. It exists and so do I.

Welcome to the New Reality.

I jolt upright in surprise, expecting to suddenly be awake and staring at the walls of my room but I’m still in the void. Only the bright white light coming from the large letters exist in the empty space in front of me.

Your transportation is nearly complete. Please observe the following rules in the New Reality.

You are required to play at least 1 game every 24 hours. You may not play the same game more than once every 72 hours to fulfill this requirement. Failure to comply will result in a loss of points.

Violence outside of the games or personal duels is strictly forbidden. Violations of this rule will result in the loss of points (1000 points times the number of violations you have committed thus far). Personal duels are only authorized by the Administrator when all parties have agreed to participate in the duel.

If your point total becomes 0 three times or remains 0 for 72 consecutive hours, you will be permanently removed from the New Reality.

Do your best to be a decent person to other people, especially when it comes to helping new players still trying to live in the New Reality.

The list of rules becomes the only thing in the void to keep my attention as I just float there uselessly and wait to wake up somehow from what certainly had to be a dream. Thankfully, I can’t really feel the time pass. I’d be insanely bored otherwise as I just wait and reread the list of rules again and again to pass the time. They’re probably going to be permanently burned into the back my eyelids if and when I ever get to wake up.

“FRESHMAN!!!”

The yelled word scares the crap out of me and I startle then stumble forward until I tumble face first onto an unfamiliar floor. I’m not even sure there’s enough time for electrons to race from one part of my brain to the next before I’m pulled up by several pairs of arms. They’re each attached to eager and unfamiliar faces, all of whom are talking over each other so loudly that I can’t make out a single word any of them’s trying to say.

With great effort, I manage to pull myself free of all their grips and finally get a good look at where I stumbled into. The closest thing I could compare it to would be a big bus or train station but something just feels… off. I think it’s the colors.

Everything’s bright and colorful, with a slight glow to it. It reminds me a lot of the colors on my old N64 games, though the primitive blocky graphics are obviously nowhere to be seen. I start walking, mesmerized by everything I’m seeing and it takes a few moments to even realize I’m not being accosted anymore. I turn back to everyone and see them all staring at me with smirks on their faces.

“Pretty crazy, right?”

I just nod and in no time flat, I’m surrounded again by all the unfamiliar faces.

“So where’d you come from, newbie?”

“Uh… USA?” I reply, not sure how much about myself I wanna give away to these strangers.

A wave of groans mix with the sound of fewer cheers and laughter. I see several of them shake hands and small windows pop up above said hands, showing numbers close to their respective hands. It doesn’t take but a second for me to realize that these guys are trading points with each other.

“So hey… what are the points for?” I ask.

Thankfully, only one of them answers. An incredibly tall woman who, based on her accent, is probably from somewhere in Africa. At least, I hope she is but it’s not like I would actually know.

“They’re for everything. Points are the money of this world.”

“Huh…” I mumble out, “I was under the impression this world didn’t really have an economy.”

“Of course it does,” she says with a slightly annoyed look on her face, “We got everything the old world does, we just do it better.”

“Speaking of better, let me tell you about our guild,” one of the others, an overweight guy dressed like a Bond villain jumps in.

He’s quickly shut up by about 8 different smacks upside the back of his head.

“You give a pamphlet like the rest of us, you damn griefer,” yet another of them, a blonde woman with a thick Russian accent declares angrily.

The overweight guy grumbles while rubbing the back of his head. He then reaches into a pocket in his jacket, thrusts a pamphlet into my hands then walks off without another word. A bunch more pamphlets get shoved at me and a thought jumps into my head.

“Wait, aren’t acts of violence against the rules?” I ask.

“They are but punishing someone for breaking a collectively agreed on rule isn’t violence. At least, not according to the Admins. Besides, that violence rule only really kicks in when you’re trying to actually harm someone. Doesn’t count just because you do something that causes pain.”

“Admins?” I wonder.

“A widely accepted conspiracy theory here that there’s a group of people that made this whole reality. There’s no proof of any of it but it makes the most sense, doesn’t it?”

“You askin’ him to make sense of anything when he just got here? Kinda messed up, love.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me ‘love’? I ain’t your love, jackass!”

They all start bickering and name calling after that and I slink away in the chaos of it all with my armful of pamphlets. Thankfully, none of them notice me and their cacophony of voices is soon well behind me. I’m barely outside the building when I hear a wonderfully familiar voice call out my name. Corey’s rushing over to me, dressed to the nines in what I could only describe as Cyberpunk fashion. He wastes no time in hugging me half to death.

“It’s great to see you, man! I gotta be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually accept my invite. You know, with the hold death grip your mom has over your decision making faculties…” he says, getting a bit sheepish at the end as he lets me go.

I’m more than a little upset by the comment, and I make sure to shoot him a glare to make sure he knows it, but I also can’t deny he’s got a bit of a point. I’m so upset with his remark about my mother’s control over my subconscious that it actually takes me a little bit to really hear the first sentence.

“Wait, so you really did send the invite? It wasn’t just someone using your name?” I ask.

“Well yeah…” he replies with a roll of his eyes, “Invites from people already here are the only way to get to this world nowadays and they are damned expensive.”

“And you spent that money to bring me here?” I can’t help but wonder.

“What can I say? This new world’s great and all but I missed my best friend. Hell, my only friend.”

That one actually touches me a little, sad as it was that I was somehow the only person he considered a friend.

“Okay, so… what now?” I ask.

“Now, we get you into your very first game!” he answers me excitedly as he wraps an arm around me and starts walking me away.

“First place we go is Tabletop Park. Easiest place to get some beginner points with games like Chess, Checkers… you know, that kinda stuff.”

“Wait… checkers? That’s the kind of games they have here? I was expecting something more…”

“Trust me, they’ve got plenty of video game-y stuff,” Corey interrupts, “But most of those games won’t net you points if you lose and you need points right now. Classic board games give only small little payouts but they pay whether you win or lose.”

“Huh…”

That’s the last thing that comes out of my mouth as my friend leads me to the first game of the rest of my life.

#writing #short story #isekai

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amarantine-amirite · 2 years

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Inconvenient Flames

I did something stupid today.

I bought a shirt that had seven buttons, but six buttonholes. Rather than bringing it back to the store, I tried to cut a new buttonhole open. It worked, but it had all sorts of threads sticking out of it. I didn't have a sewing kit at the ready, so I had to burn the edges to stop it from fraying.

It hadn't occurred to me that you needed to melt wax onto the edges. The shirt caught on fire. I dropped it on the carpet, doused it with water, and left the room.

I camped out in the art room on the 50th floor. It appeared that they hosted a workshop connected to an art opening at UMass Amherst, I'm not part of the opening, nor am I part of the workshop, but nobody has to know that.

I sat next to a girl in a wheelchair. She complained about the easel not being adjustable. I think she said to me, "Hey, switch places", but I didn't catch it. Something else blocked out the sound.

I heard the fire alarm go off.

I panicked, and not for the usual reason people panic when the fire alarm goes off. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't douse the burning shirt with water; I doused it with gin. Gin makes fires worse, not better.

We lined up to leave. I saw the girl in the wheelchair anxiously wheel herself out the door. As everybody else ran for the stairs, the girl in the wheelchair stopped dead.

The common advice is you can't use the elevator to get out of a fire. You must use the stairs. But we're on the 50th floor. How do you get out of a fire if you can't walk?

It seems like you only have two options. Either your loved ones or the firemen can get you out using the emergency fire escapes or stairs, or you die. But the truth is more complex than that.

The "do not use elevators to escape a burning building" rule exists to prevent people from rushing elevators during a fire. It is possible to use elevators if the building hasn't suffered enough structural damage to make using the elevator dangerous, and modern elevator wells have a shit ton of reinforcements. Many newer elevators specifically talk to the fire alarm system so they won't let you off on a floor with a possible fire.

That said, you must be 100% certain that the elevator is not compromised before you get into it, because there is always the chance that once you get into it, you may not exit it. The power could go out. It could suddenly shut down on you because of some issue that you couldn't see from the outside. It could plummet. Before you ask, no, jumping up at the last floor will not save you.

I heard a great clattering after the fire alarm went off. It sounded like the elevator just fell down the shaft.

It upset both of us that the elevator was toast. The girl in the wheelchair couldn't get down the stairs on her own, and if she lost the chair, it would be very expensive to replace. I did not look forward to fireman-carrying her and carrying the wheelchair folded up in my other hand down 50 flights of stairs. Not only would it be hard on the shoulders, but the wheelchair girl is also fat.

Now how do you get out if there's no elevator, you can't walk, and you're too fat for someone else to carry? I spotted a thing on the wall that said "pull cord to access parachute". I pulled it and out fell two parachutes. I gave one to the wheelchair girl and kept the other one for myself, and we dove out a window opening that read "wheelchair fire exit".

Parachuting out worked better than we both expected. Nobody's chute got burned, torn, or tied around the neck. We sailed out of the building faster than everybody else. Things were great.

That is, of course, until I hit a tree. "It's OK," I said, "I'm all right, I think".

The branch broke and I fell. And yes, if a parachutist falls in the forest they, most certainly do make a sound. And that sound is all manners of curse words.

I stumbled out of the woods with a veritable who's who of scratches, bruises, and scrapes. I looked towards a parking area and noticed a camper van with a giant hole in the side.

Parachuting out of a burning building could have gone better, but at least I did better than the girl in the wheelchair. She managed to put quite a dent in that Winnebago.

#creative writing #writers #writing #writers on tumblr #short story

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thebadbatch · 3 years

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The Bad Batches reactions to you getting injured during battle.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, panic and violence. Mentions of an injection during Wreckers part.

Hunter.

- Once a blast hits against your shoulder, Hunter is the first to yell your name and run over Whilst blasting all of the droids he could. As soon as the blood seeps out against your armour, he panics upon its metallic scent.

- Hunter applies pressure to your shoulder, wincing himself at your pain. Instantly he holds you against his chest, activating his comm to alert the others to retreat back to the attack shuttle. They hardly ever retreat, but Hunter prefers to lose then see you hurting and in pain.

- He will carry you back despite your weak protests that you could walk, he'd make sure you stay against him.

- Even though it's nobody's fault, he will still blame himself and the guilt will overtake him until you reassure him it's nobody's fault. These things happen in war.

- He will get Tech to patch you up whilst he holds your hand and lays you in his arms, whispering reassuring words into your ear whenever you wince or things get a little too much.

- "I've got you, Mesh'la. You're doing so well, I'm so proud of you…"

- He will do his best to stay calm, although very panicked. As soon as Tech has patched you up, he'll thank him and carry you to his bunk and wrap you in his arms and blanket.

- "Are you okay cyar'ika? Do you need anything? Tell me if it hurts too much. Here, lay against me like this." He'll lay you on your back, bad shoulder against all of the pillows upon the Marauder whilst he runs his fingers through your hair.

- Throughout your recovery he'll do everything for you and be a lot more protective. He'll know way before you if the bacta bandages need changing due to his enhanced senses, the fresh blood scent causing his 'protective mode' to activate.

Tech.

- You'll be beside Tech during a mission with him and he'll be caught up in a technical part of the mission attempting to get some information from the system before him. You're trying to hold off as many droids as you can until one shoots you through your leg making you scream and fall.

- As soon as you scream, Tech turns and shoots down the remaining droids before dropping to your side in panic. He's the one everybody goes to when something goes wrong and he is always calm and in control. But this was you - his you. He had sworn to protect you from anything and everything, so having you laying on the floor, clutching your leg screaming made him stop functioning.

- "Y/n, Meshla - I'm here, it's okay. Let me tend to this until we're back on the Marauder - this is fine, you'll be fine." Your cries would continue but become less intense at the sound of his voice. He'd begin to wrap your newly accumulated wound whilst talking to you about anything and everything to distract you from the seething pain.

- "Did you know that on average our missions have an eighty percent success rate? I have a new project I'm working on for you too, I'll show you once we return cyar'ika." His words would comfort himself whilst his voice would calm you.

- Once back on the attack shuttle he would push everybody aside and tend to you alone and accidently snap if someone was to try to intervene. Tech felt as if this was his fault, if only he had been Paying more attention. He didn't mean to get so lost in what he was doing - he needs to help you and him alone.

- After you had been patched up, he would hold you and allow tears to dampen his cheeks. He never cried, but he does whenever you're hurt.

- "Mesh'la I'm so sorry. I love you. You'll be okay now I promise." Your heart would break at his tears and broken Voice, rubbing his back and telling him it's okay and wasn't his fault calmed him down though.

- He'd be your personal doctor until you recovered, carrying you wherever you needed to go and checking your wound and tending to it whenever you showed signs that you were in pain.

- "You're so brave, love - I won't let this happen again. I'll give my life for yours."

Crosshair.

- You'd be up on a cliff with Crosshair watching him as he surveyed the area, his words limited as he taught you what he does. Moments like these were precious with Crosshair so you ensured that you soaked in every moment.

- As you turned your head, you saw a glint of a gun coming from the trees behind you, a blaster shot heading straight for Crosshair. Luckily you moved in the way of it in time to protect him but it hit straight into your side making you fall fully against the floor. Cross would turn onto his side and fire his rifle, shooting the target down before tending to you.

- He'd be panicked and afraid for you, the blood staining your clothes. Cross would cover his emotions with anger though, clearly concerned for you as he applied pressure to your wound.

- "Why did you protect me? Kriff y/n! I have armour! Stop moving, don't get up - you're gonna be okay just stop. Let me help you."

- He would pick you up and hold you against his chest, using his comm system to tell the others and to prepare the ship. He'd keep an eye on you in his arms, using his life to protect you if reinforcements found you. Crosshair would continue to speak to you, filling the air with your usual chatter which he realised he took for granted now that you had fallen silent in pain.

- Once you were back on the ship and being tended to, he'd get mad whenever they accidentally hurt your wound during treatment. He keeps his helmet on though, not wanting you to see his glassy and red eyes. Worry had overtaken him.

- Finally patched up, he'd be clinging to your hand, voice falling silent within hopes that your own would fill the air again. The sound that he treasured and adored. When it die, a smile beamed across his face only to fall when you mumbled out upset and tired apologies.

- "No, no! Mesh'la, I love you - you saved me. Thank you, I'm sorry I was rude I just - I just can't lose you. Don't apologise for saving me cyar'ika, I'm so happy you did."

- He'd be overjoyed when you began talking again about anything and everything, his chest filling with pure happiness. Crosshair would protect you more, holding you whenever he could and he got into the habit of asking you to rant at him. Your voice comforted him more than you realized.

Wrecker.

- On the battlefield was always eventful and exciting with Wrecker, it almost felt like a game to you both. So when an explosion sounded and some debris cut into your arm and cheek, both of you had no idea what to do. Wrecker had used his blaster to clear your path, rapidly firing at anything that dared to prevent you from getting to safety.

- He would pick you up and use his body to shield you from any more bullets. This was no longer fun to him, this was a literal nightmare now you were hurt and your pained whimpers felt like a blaster shot to his heart.

- Finally getting to the ship, he holds you tightly and calls for his brothers - all of which would appear and wince at the material within your skin. Sitting you on the med table, he'd let you lean against him as Tech removed all of the material and cleaned it up. Whenever you'd wince, Wrecker would feel his heart drop. He'd always fight anything that hurt you - so when he wasn't able to, things just felt so much worse.

- Tech would have to give you an injection to prevent any infections, something that Wrecker was absolutely terrified of and refused to let it go near you.

- "No! You ain't puttin' that in them! Think of something else! They're hurt enough already!" He would hold you closer against him, protecting you with his warmth until everybody convinced him to let Tech do what was needed. He'd hold you and hide against you, listening to your own reassuring words.

- Once everything was over, he'd get you comfortable in his bunk and give you unlimited access to his Lula, always bringing you food and hugs. He'd watch your favourite holomovie with you too just to see you smile.

- "I got ya, here stay against me. I can be ya pillow! I'm pretty comfy don't you think? I love you, I'll keep you safe now."

Echo.

- Missions with Echo were always well organised and strict in the best of ways. He loved instructions and following orders so that made his plan perfect. When a bunch of droids bursted through a hallway Echo was beyond shocked and though he did his best to protect you a blast still hit you in the back whilst he tried to get you both to run.

- When you shouted his name for help, he shot as many as he could before gently placing you over his shoulder with his hand to support you. Running through the halls of the escape plan he had prepared, he kept using his words to try to reassure you.

- "Y/n! I've got you, hang on, we'll be back shortly Cyar'ika just breathe." He kept speaking sweet reassuring words, occasionally whispering commands to himself to keep himself focused.

- Once back upon the Havoc with Tech helping your wound heal, his hand is against yours with his lips gently against your forehead leaving soft reassuring kisses. His hand leaves yours but only to play with your hair, pushing it back from your eyes and giving you a soft smile.

- "I'll protect you, I'll keep you safe, just stay against me. It'll be over soon, see? All fixed. You're alright, love. Mesh'la, come on here we go stay in my arms let's get you to bed." His words would always be gentle with you, treating you with the most care and love. He would let you wear his blacks, ensuring your wound was alright and he'd keep an eye on you all night and until you heal.

- Echo would take care of you, help you walk around the ship and always bring you back treats from supply runs. Whenever you would have to have the bacta pack changed, he'd be there holding your hand and keeping you as safe as possible. From then onwards he'd always ensure you were safer on the battlefield if that was even possible.

#Tbb #The bad batch headcanons #Headcanon #The bad batch #Starwars #Hunter x Reader #Crosshair x reader #Tech x reader #Echo x reader #Wrecker x reader #the bad batch x reader #Clone force 99

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thepeacock · 3 years

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alright it's been a few hours since Technoblade's video and I have this to say about mcytblr's response:

1) while I think saying "everybody panic" is bad, I also think it's kind of shitty to say "it's going to be fine" because you don't know that. nobody knows that. Technoblade doesn't know that. what we do know is that panicking and worrying won't help anyone, and that

2) Technoblade has all the money he could possibly need for treatment because of his fans, aka us, so there's that. I suppose we could always give him more money. besides that, what we can do as a community is

3) don't spam other cc's chats with anything techno-related. he is their friend. if one of my friends had cancer and thousands of people were trying to get me to talk about it I would be pissed, to say the least. MCC is tomorrow as of this post and yeah, it would be really gross of you to spam cc's chats with questions and comments about techno. I understand if you can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about it. if MCC can't get your mind off it, so be it. I am sure SBI is also trying to take their minds off it, so. just don't talk about it in chats. another thing we can make sure to not do is

4) don't publish fanfic about it. RPF or DSMP or whatever. I say publish because nobody cares if you write it as a way to cope and leave in in your Drive. just please, out of common courtesy for your fellow Techno fans (and for Technoblade himself) don't put it out there on the internet.

#bladeblr #technoblade #mcytblr #mcytwt #mcc #mcyt #dsmp #cancer tw #cancer #hospital tw

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough.

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you… their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they?

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them.

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in.

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in.

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought.

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet.

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it?

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it.

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway.

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them.

Love them.

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…”

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips.

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear–

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well.

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one.

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question. His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound.

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through.

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast.

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done.

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you.

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you.

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate.

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to.

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you.

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead.

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough.

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.”

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think.

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders.

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it.

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere bakugou katuski x reader #yandere kirishima eijiro x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #tw non con #tw kidnapping #tw blood #it's like one mention but still #me posting this when my dash is dead instead of at 2am #more likely than you think

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

When you Wish Upon a Star

Pairing: Karlnapity x Reader

Request: Can you maybe write some poly karlnapity x reader fluff with a bit of angst?

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: memory loss, angst, cursing, loss/relationship strain, depression (?)

A/n: haha memory issues go brrrrrr. Sorry if it's bad, i wanted angst but didn't know how-

Your world was slowly becoming a monochrome film. So meaningless and alien to what your life once was. All color and life had left and all that remained was an empty shell of what once was. Your boys were no longer sticking together, acting like the loving couple that they are. Or were. You couldn’t tell what the status of y’all relationship was. It felt like everything was falling apart. Nobody was communicating with each other and they weren’t coming home sometimes, going missing for days on end with no contact.

Now sometimes business could be rough and long, so that wasn’t an abnormal thing. No, the issue was how increasingly common this “uncommon” occurrence was. Anxiety boiled in your chest with every night that passed without your lovers. Cuddling with just one wasn’t the same as with them all. You just wished everything would return to its original state; all four of your being a giddy and affectionate couple. Back to that honeymoon stage.

Everything was becoming so different, much less vibrant. Like a depression had fallen onto y’alls happily-ever-after. You only had Sapnap for comfort, and vice versa. There was no Quackity to rely on or Karl to giggle all the worries all away. And it was painfully obvious how it was affecting everybody, yet nobody did anything to fix it.

Quackity never came to y’all for comfort. He was always at his damn casino or scheming a way to end Techno’s anarchy. Slowly he just stopped talking to y’all like he loved you. Now you and Sapnap were like a war council, but even then he wouldn’t listen to y’all advice. He’d just rant to y’all about how much he despised Techno and wanted to kill him, destroy the damn god complex the man had.

But Quackity was blind to himself; he was on a high horse and saw himself as a worthy opponent, somebody who could subdue such a savage beast. Every time Quackity came home bloody and on the brink of death, it killed you on the inside. Why wasn’t he coming to y’all about the issues? Why did he think he was so alone in his endeavor?

And you didn’t even want to mention Karl’s condition. He was acting so odd now. More forgetful and aloof. It was like he was a complete stranger now. Your interactions were slowly becoming shorter and shorter, less meaningful and shallow. From meaningful, deep and loving talk during cuddle sessions to a curt, cold and disconnected. Sapnap even tried to get information out of him, but he stayed closed and guarded like a clam. Then he’d also come home with some injuries, but there was never an explanation for why he got hurt. Quackity at least admitted to what happened, so you knew what possible dangers he was facing. But Karl? He was an absolute mystery now.

Karl wasn’t the type of person to be so mysterious. Well, cold and mysterious that is. Definitely a mystery though, but so charismatic that you could easily push that fact aside. He used to be so cute and “unsuspecting”. Now that’s the same case, but subtract the “cute and unsuspecting” part. His newfound apathy worried you to no end. It was like he was completely detached from reality.

It was such a silly thing, but you wished for the stars, asking them to help you. Please, you needed your boys back. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep living through this cycle.

Quackity’s hyper-independence and Karl’s now apathetic attitude was disheartening. And the effect it had on Sapnap was heartbreaking. He kept blaming himself for the relationship for falling apart. You reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, but you were hypocritical. Telling someone that it wasn’t their fault that a relationship was failing yet blaming oneself for the same thing? Honestly it wasn’t just one singular person’s fault; everyone was to blame. Nobody was communicating, which harmed the relationship you once thrived in.

So you begged the stars for guidance, for a chance at mending your dying relationship. There wasn’t a way you could live without your lovers.

You should’ve been more careful for what you wished for.

________________________________________________

Sapnap commed you one day, which wasn’t abnormal by any means. You two talked throughout the day multiple times. That was the only consistent thing that was still steady. A constant in your ever changing lives. But when you got on call with him, he sounded different, desperate and panicked. Your anxiety started to peak when he spoke, but the subject of the call made time stop. No way- there was no way.

You fucking chunked whatever the hell you were holding or doing out of your hands. It was way less important now. Honestly you can’t even remember what you were doing. All you knew was that you had to get to them and swiftly. No time could be wasted. Sapnap needed you right now. Your boys needed you. Everything was on the line. Well, for you it felt like that. Your boys were your everything; if one more “unfortunate” accident occurred to them, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You were absolutely failing at protecting them. They protected and loved you for so long, and you wanted to protect them now.

Sapnap had begged, nearly demanding you come to Karl’s library that instant. Karl had apparently appeared there, and he wasn’t looking so good. He said he also contacted Quackity so he should be there too, but who knows if he’ll actually be there.

When the library came into sight, your anxiety both increased yet decreased, allowing joy to grow alongside it. The combination was odd, one that sounds like it shouldn’t be put together. Yet that’s exactly what you felt; bitterness and cold with some warmth hidden beneath the surface like a sun chasing the night way at dawn. You bolted into the building, frantically sweeping the immediate area for Sapnap and Karl. No sign of them. Your panic grew exponentially. Where were they? You yelled out, hoping to hear any sign of them.

Some commotion was made from your left. Walking closer to it, you caught sight of Sapnap’s shoes. He peaked around the corner to check the new visitor, and almost ran to you. The moment he stood, he hesitated. He took a step forward and stopped, looking between you and where you presumed Karl was. Ultimately he just took a few more steps toward you before turning back to Karl. When you arrived at Sapnap’s side, you dropped to your knees alongside him. There one of your worst fears faced you.

Karl lay on the ground, unconscious and bloody. He was so pale, it scared you. How long was he like this? What happened to him? Would he make it? You didn’t want to know the answer to it. Specifically, you didn’t want to know in case he wasn’t going to make it. Seeing him like this, it’d hurt too much to know the reality. You just wanted your old picture-perfect life back. Yes, it wasn’t absolutely perfect, but it was perfect for you and your boys.

So much time must’ve passed with you and Sapnap just watching Karl, tending to the wounds he had. It was fortunate that only his head showed clear signs of damage. Yet that was also a very unfortunate thing. There could be so much potential damage done and you’d never know if he was or wasn’t okay unless something happened to him.

You were so focused on Karl that you hadn’t realized that Quackity had joined y’all until he gently laid his hand on your shoulder, which shocked you out of your trance. Quackity’s eyes and face were red and puffy, tears trailed down his face and he was out of breath and panting. But he was here. You jumped up to hug him, pulling him down to the ground with you, Sapnap and Karl. Sapnap joined in the hug without a word. A sniffle left Sapnap, but you never mentioned it. This was a very stressful situation.

After a short period of pseudo peace, the exhaustion finally started to take ahold of y’all with the adrenaline slowly leaving your systems. Talking it out for a bit, after seeing how visibly tired everyone was, it was decided that y’all would watch over him in shifts. There was a small squabble for who’d be first; each of you wanted to be first to sate your guilt. It wasn’t long until a victor was declared; Quackity would take the first shift. Then Sapnap and finally you. The plan fucking pissed you off so much and there wasn’t a reason for it to. It just did, and you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But you didn’t question it. If conflict could be avoided, then it’d be best to go along with the plan.

One moment you were blinking, trying to fight off sleep and the next Quackity was shaking you awake. You were so groggy and barely heard what he said. It must’ve been so obvious to Quackity that you just weren’t hearing jack shit, but he kept repeating- something. You actually had no clue if he was repeating something or just babbling. All you heard was noise and his mouth was moving. What could be so important that he was just fucking shaking you like a damn earthquake- oH SHIT!

Without a second thought, you jump to your feet and flop just a bit closer to Karl. You got up too quickly but you made it to your goal, kinda, so score! Scrambling to your feet, more accurately your knees, you view the situation.

All you could see was Karl sitting up and talking to Sapnap. That’s all that mattered though- he was alright. Karl was alive and thriving- okay that was debatable- but still! Your Karl was okay!

You’re on your feet in a flash once again, flinging yourself into Karl’s arms. The relief that washed over you was immense. Cleansing you of all your anxieties.

Yet he didn’t hug you back. Matter of fact, he did nothing at all. He froze up. Though it went unnoticed by you. Salty tears dripped down your face and splattered onto his jacket. Quackity joined in on your group hug, cry and babbling his apologies along the way.

Suddenly you and Quakity are shoved away, landing into Sapnap’s waiting arms. Saying you were shocked would be an understatement. Confused also couldn’t, yet they were the first words your frazzled mind could conjure.

“Who are you all?”

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qslovebot · 3 years

Text

Nobody: Spencer Reid

Summary: After an accident on a case, the reader is left with trauma and anxiety. A miscommunication between her and the person she needs most (Spencer Reid) begins to eat her alive and he just so happens to be the only one there when she breaks again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: mentions of kissing, mentions of traumatizing events (not specified), depictions of anxiety, fluff, miscommunication, angst to fluff

A/N: The song is Nobody by Mitski. Read with this for the ultimate experience.

Sometimes things felt too literal. Words start to sound weird and feel weird when you say them, clothes feel too much like clothes against your skin, the texture of any food in your mouth becomes too prevalent while eating.

These things started happening after you witnessed and endured something awful on a case. You wouldn't dare bring up the full memory in case it took over and killed you all over again. It wasn't PTSD, but it was the cause of your anxiety attacks most of the time when they occurred.

After that case, you spent a week in the hospital where they happened nearly every day and the doctors weren't much help, to be frank. The only people who really ever helped were your friends and the person you were so close to dating, Spencer Reid.

It was a long story. To dumb it down, the case event happened and you and Spencer thought you were about to die so he confessed his feelings for you and of course they were reciprocated. He asked, then and there through stuttering words, 'If we make it out of here please go out with me?" As his last bit of hope, and he kissed you before you were taken away by the unsub. He didn't endure nearly as much as you did which was why he wasn't as affected. But you had said 'yes' to that question and three weeks later, you still hadn't talked about it.

When the anxiety attacks happened, you often felt like you couldn't breathe, like the walls were pressing in on you. Sometimes you'd be with JJ when it happened. She would immediately ask you what you needed and often that would just be a hug.

Emily witnessed one at your house when she came over to check on you. She rushed over, caring voice and soft hands and told you to put your head between your knees, stroking your hair until you felt better.

Penelope made the 30-minute drive from her house every Friday night she wasn't working on a case to bring you dinner she had made and chat with you about anything you wanted.

Your friends cared for you, it was so prevalent. It was almost always that fact that was getting you through this as you continued to get better. You would return to work in two weeks because now the anxiety attacks were only once in a while and better controlled by you and Spencer still hadn't spoken to you since.

It was now nearly two weeks later. You would go back to work on Monday.

"He did come to visit you in the hospital before you woke up," Penelope said, stirring her cup of ramen. It was just another Friday and she sat across from you in your chair, cross-legged. "I don't know what's up with him if he isn't speaking to you, he seems fine at work."

You sighed, swallowing your bite. "I'm just scared that he regrets what he said and did before I was dragged away. It was those words and that kiss that got me through what the unsub did and I keep thinking about it and him..."

"It was romantic," she noted, waving her chopstick in the air. "I think you should call him, rather than just text him. It'll catch him off-guard and in-the-moment."

"Now?"

"Yes, so I can listen!"

You smiled a little, pulling out your phone as your heart began to race. What if he did pick up? What if it was awkward? What if he somehow didn't remember?

You pressed on his name, then pressed call. It began to hum quietly with pending rings. One ring, two, then five, then seven, then there was a small beep.

'You've reached Dr. Spencer Reid, uh, leave a message,' his voice said through the machine, still as sweet and youthfully scratchy. You bit your lip and nodded.

"I should have known that he didn't want to talk. Penelope, I can't stop thinking about him and he keeps ignoring my calls and I'm... frankly I'm afraid that nothing will ever happen and he'll ignore me forever."

Penelope cringed, "(Y/N), uh... there's... it's gone to voicemail and you're recording."

"Shit!" You panicked, looking at your phone. "How do I stop it?!"

"The red button!"

"That's the end call button I-" you pressed it by accident. Oh my god, the message went through. You just sat there with Penelope, both of you frozen in shock. That did not just happen... did it really just happen? Your one moment of self-pity and worry was one moment that Spencer would hear if he touched his phone on a Friday night.

The rest of the night was spent with you fighting off panic, pacing your room. Penelope agreed to stay overnight, but you could not handle the fact Spencer would hear what you said. It was humiliating to think about him hearing you stress over something like that.

This is what nagged at you all weekend, threatening the impending anxiety that was building up. Every second was agony, spent pacing and overthinking. Sleep was hard to get, so you took melatonin and your dreams taunted you with it all over again.

Monday morning you rushed to get dressed. You needed to see Spencer, no matter how hard it was to face him. You pulled on dress pants and a navy blue cotton v-neck shirt with bell sleeves. Laundry was forgotten through two days of panic, so this was pretty much the only shirt you had.

You brushed through your hair and applied your regular makeup and there, you were presentable and didn't look like you'd lost your mind over the weekend. You were going back, finally. It was somewhat refreshing if you dismissed the Spencer ordeal.

The drive there was fine. Music helped to calm you down and you listened as long as you could. Stepping into the BAU was different, it felt like you were being crushed the moment you stepped in.

"There's my girl!" Derek Morgan was the first to notice you walk in and he greeted you with open arms and a crushing hug. You smiled, letting him. It had been a while since you last saw him. He let you go after a few seconds, but his hands stayed on your shoulders. "We missed you here, things weren't as fun without you."

"I bet," you grinned, heading to your desk. You could hide your freakout well. "I missed the smell of coffee and paper in the morning."

"(Y/N), glad to have you back," Hotch said, walking down the steps. He did seem honestly glad to see you as there was a small twitch of his mouth when he approached you and Derek. "You're sure you're alright to work again? I assume today is a file day, but we'll be back out there soon."

You nodded, smiling back. "Getting there, but it's controllable now," He narrowed his eyebrows. "I'll be fine for the field and if I'm not, I can always stay at the precinct to work things out there."

Hotch looked to Derek, then back at you. "Sounds good. Again, glad to have you back, agent." Hotch shook your hand and passed you, heading into JJ's office.

"Morgan..." You started, fiddling with your fingers. "Have you seen Spencer?"

"Yeah, he just went to the washroom, why?"

"I need to talk to him..."

The day went on and of course, you saw Spencer, but he paid you no mind. Not even a 'welcome back' or anything. You were just there and it was like you never left, except Spencer didn't even look at you. He was busy with his work and you constantly found yourself watching him. Maybe he'd heard your voice mail, maybe not, but either way, he didn't seem to care anymore.

That month and a half you spent recovering- was it possible that he used that time away from you to get over you? The idea was haunting and tugged at your heart. To be the only one all-in was such an incredibly painful idea. What he said before you were dragged away into the depths of hell meant something to you and it kept you alive... and to think he probably didn't mean it...

You needed to stop thinking about it before it made you burst into a million pieces. To be surrounded by everyone who you loved and loved you back wasn't enough if you couldn't have Spencer, too. Selfish, it sounded so selfish, but it shook you to the core that he wasn't amongst them.

The day continued and more pain was endured. More overthinking, more fear, more insecurity. The day was nearing its end.

Everybody seemed like nobody when Spencer was out of the picture. You had spent so much time thinking about him in the hospital and at home in recovery, who were you without wondering you could make it work? Nobody. Without the fantasy you could be his, you stranded on some sort of island. You were nobody if not Spencer's.

So you were nobody.

It was that thought that keeled you over the edge in the parking lot of the BAU. So much fear, so much pent-up emotion, it was too much to contain and just... spilled over onto everything as your hands began to shake, followed by that godawful feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your knees gave out and you fell conveniently onto the curb next to your car.

There was nobody there, either. You were alone on the concrete curb, face in your shaking hand and the other shaking hand gripping the curb so hard your knuckles turned white. Too much, too little, everything was wrong and you couldn't face Spencer.

You looked up for a brief moment and there was a brief look at someone in a beige cardigan and khaki pants and your heart fell to the pit of your stomach- as if you were humiliated enough. Footsteps, closer.

"A-are you okay?" His voice was a little panicked, definitely not as bad as yours, though. Overall, you were just glad he was within six feet of you.

Of course, you were pretty much unable to reply. Your face stayed in your hands and you felt light fingers on your shoulder, his, and they were somewhat grounding. God, he was here and you couldn't even talk to him, you couldn't even raise your head.

"What do you need, I- what happened?" He cared. But to what extent? His hands felt frantic- they shook a little (again, not nearly as bad as yours) and they moved from your shoulder, to upper arm, to near your neck, to the side of your head. "If this is my fault, I-"

He stopped himself. How could he possibly know that it was the thought of him that sent this into motion? The voicemail didn't entail much other than he was on your mind. You hardly even noticed that you were crying from the anxiety attack until you felt how wet your hands were. Your words kept piling on your tongue and the panic rose again in an entirely new wave.

"Do you- do you need help? I can get Hotch or... Derek, Derek knows, I know, but I don't- I don't think you like me very much and I won't be of help-I-I-I-" His voice continued to ramble and you were flooded with new thoughts. How could he possibly think that you didn't like him? In those moments before you were taken, you had said yes to going out with him if you both made it out. You kissed him back then before the arms grabbed you and dragged you off. Where did the idea of you not liking him come from? It was you who was afraid he didn't like you back.

You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something but you were stuck in your own mind, desperately trying to fight this off, trying hard to calm your breathing. The most you could do was take your hand off of the curb and frantically grab his. You took his hand and you held it tight, trying to slow the sharp intakes of breath. That's when Spencer squeezed your hand and you began to feel better.

And when you did start to feel better and your breathing was still harsh, but better and you could finally move a little more, you did what you had wanted to do every day in the hospital. You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Spencer, your arms resting around his shoulders. You needed it and apparently so did he, because he squeezed you back the same. Either it was that or he knew pressure helped. All you could do was hope it wasn't the latter.

Spencer of course buried his face in the crook of your neck like he had before and you knew now that this feeling was coming to an end. The tide was washing out and there was calm after the storm. No words, just your breathing becoming more natural and the wind over your ears. This was all that you needed.

He stayed like this with you for a good five more minutes before you could finally release him, pulling apart and your hand coming up to wipe under your eyes. He didn't speak then, either- he just watched, his face furrowed in concern.

So you spoke, "Spencer wh-" your voice cut out from still being in that state of anxiety. You coughed into your arm, tried again. "Why would you think I don't like you?"

"I-I- don't think that's the question, I- are you okay?" His hands went back to your shoulders bracingly.

You smiled a small smile, "I'm better, it's passed, but Spencer...' You slid into a whisper with the crying coming back. Had it really passed?

"Yes?" His reply was wary. As if afraid to break you, he tiptoed.

"Answer me, please."

He bit his lower lip into his mouth, sighing. "I don't know if I should, you're- you're upset."

You looked at him, dead-on, determined. "Please."

"You didn't call. Not once and I-I-I was worried and then I started to think about it and everything t-that happened before you were taken and that you probably only said and did that because you were about to-to-uh, die." He rambled, words spilling out. "So I thought maybe you didn't really like me and-"

"I was waiting for you to call, too," you actually let out a laugh. He smiled in realization. "Because I was afraid of the exact same thing. I was afraid you didn't mean it and I worked myself up- I called Friday night, though-"

"I didn't- I didn't know that-" he fumbled to bring his phone out of his pocket and he must have seen that he had a voicemail from you and nodded, a little smile appearing on his worried face. "So you did mean to say yes?"

"And you did mean to ask?" You inquired, head tilted.

"Y-yes, of course."

"Then yes," you replied, smile widening to a grin. "How is Saturday night? I think I'll be better by then."

He was positively beaming as he helped you back to your feet. "Saturday is... great. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Much better.... truthfully." You nodded excessively and Spencer began walking back to his car, but then came back quickly to kiss your cheek.

He was like a child excited to go run and tell friends, "Goodnight!"

"Night, Spence." You stood there, basking in the glory that was solved miscommunication. You weren't nobody, you were in fact, somebody. And you were soon to be Spencer's.

Tags: @ellyhotchner, @softhairedhotch, @laurakirsten0502

REQUEST HERE

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retroateez · 3 years

Text

me and you, together, at the end of the world

san x reader

angst, apocalypse au

word count: 1.1k

heavy mentions of death, so if you’re due an existential crisis i would probably give this one a miss

they all said it would come one day. experts predicting the fall of society, the dismantling of humanity and detailing the chaos to ensue afterwards.

but you had never expected it to come during your lifetime.

accepting the end of the world had been difficult, but as time went on and the inevitable drew closer, the kinder death as an option seemed.

the past week had been the hardest. monday, the radio stations and television channels instructed people to stay indoors, to not panic and assured the public that help was on the way. tuesday, nobody came. wednesday, you were beginning to wonder if the copious amounts of pasta and baked beans in your student apartment would see you through to the end. by thursday, still nobody had come. on friday, an emergency broadcast was sent out, telling civilians to get to a giant, communal safehouse in the middle of city by noon on saturday.

saturday morning, your boyfriend san showed up. he told you grab what you could; you were leaving. one hour before noon, the usual, panicked news broadcast was interrupted.

the newsanchor told you and everybody else watching that death was imminent. the cause of the destruction was going to be eliminated, as were you.

the phrase 'for the greater good' had never seemed so bittersweet.

you watched as san flopped lifelessly onto your small, worn out couch.

the man on the screen informed you that all safehouses across the country were full, and that the people inside them would be the next generation.

"the generation of hope" he called them.

he then went on to explain the governments plan to bomb the remaining parts of the country. deeming such extreme measures the "only way to exterminate the threat of extinction".

it was at that exact moment both you and san knew you would die.

sunday morning, sitting on the rooftop with the love of your life, watching the sunrise with your hands clasped tightly as if to never, ever let go.

the burnt orange hue across the horizon cast a warm glow across the city below your building. broken down cars litter the middle of the streets, when a week ago the early morning rush would just have been starting.

you remember how you would complain to san about how the honking of horns and yelling of angry businessmen below your apartment would always wake you up.

how silly that seems now.

the two of you sit in silence, neither of you able to find anything to say despite these being some of your last living moments.

the feeling of his thumb slowly ghosting over the skin of your hand reminds you that you are alive, and that the nightmare you are living in is inescapable.

"i love you, y/n." san says suddenly, speaking softly as he faces out over the city.

"I love you too, san."

you couldn't estimate how long you had been sat there with him, keeping a tight grip on his hand to remind yourself that he was there. only when the sun had reached directly above your heads did you realise it had been hours.

you could feel it's hot rays beating down on your neck, your instincts yelling at you to go inside and put on sunscreen. but you have to keep reminding yourself that nothing matters anymore. everything you do now is meaningless, eating breakfast, making the bed, putting trash in the correct bin.

nothing matters when there is nobody left to care.

"i'm going to marry you in the next life, y/n."

"what?"

"that was the only thing i was sure that i wanted in this life. and now it's being ripped away from me. so in the next life, i'm going to marry you, and nothing, and nobody can stop me."

"okay."

you hated the fact you couldn't give san a proper response, only staring numbly at the quiet, desolate expanse below you.

some time later, you hear the rumbling of armoured trucks making their way to the center of the city. above you, helicopters hover hundreds of metres above your head.

you always thought that you would be scared, or that you would be a fighter and survive your way through the end of the world and come out the other side unscathed.

but with san's slender fingers wrapped around your own, none of that really matters anymore.

"i wish i could've had it all with you, san. marriage, children, pets. coming home after a long day and arguing over whose turn it was to do the dishes, going to parties and leaving early to watch movies in bed, going on road trips and getting flat tires, reading our children to sleep, forgetting to put the eggs in the brownie mix and making a mess, celebrating your next big promotion at work, everything that seems so meaningless, i want it, and i only want it with you."

the emotions spill out through the cracks in your voice, the tears welling up in your eyes and the tightening of your hand over san's.

he says nothing, but the squeeze he gives you is his way of saying me too.

the sun begins to set behind you, san stands up and tugs you up too, bringing you to the other side of the roof to watch the sunset.

"i wish i had appreciated the sunset more," he tells you. "i wish i had appreciated a lot of things more than i have done."

"we have eternity to do that now." you whisper to him.

he reclasps your hand and the two of you return to your tranquil state of sitting in silence, watching the entire world go by with the comforting presence of each other.

ironically, the city is encased in peace. the usual bustle of life has vanished, leaving san's shallow breathing the only thing left for you to hear. it's poetic, really.

the world's sound has disappeared and manifested itself in san, who now is your world.

no, he's your universe.

night brings with her darkness, that she sweeps over the empty houses and abandoned stores, cafes and playgrounds. an unwelcome guest she too brings with her.

chaos is hard at work, the silence broken by a distance boom, indicating the beginning of the cull.

san's hand tightens on yours once more, and this time you both truly know you don't have long left.

the explosions are getting louder and more frequent, the blackness of night shielding your view from the smoke and destruction in neighbouring cities.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

you were content at that moment.

when it was just you and san, together, at the end of the world.

#san #choi san #ateez #san angst #ive been reading so much apocalypse lit recently #partially inspired by the walking dead #and station eleven #why do i always write depressing things #retroateez #san x reader

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rosaliestark01 · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn - Part 7

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter and your friends realize that you’re in trouble, meanwhile Tony seeks advice from the other Avengers

Warnings: angst, injured characters, angry!Y/N

A/N: @annies-marvel-imagines will no longer be posting more parts, but she will still receive credit.

Tony paces around his lab, clearly thinking hard. Lately, that was where he spent most of his time. Currently, He was working on an upgrade for your suit. Usually, he'd have finished the upgrade weeks ago, but for some reason, it is never good enough, and he inevitably ends up scrapping it and starting over.

"Tony, you've been working for hours," Pepper says as she steps into the room. "Vision ordered pizza."

"I'm not hungry," he mumbles without looking up. This time, he was sure that he'd be able to finish the upgrade. Then, he'd be able to move on to upgrading Peter's suit, then his own.

"You've been saying that a lot lately." Pepper sighs as she walks up to him and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Does this have anything to do with Y/N?"

"You mean my daughter who hates me?" He mutters under his breath, but she heard it nonetheless.

"She doesn't hate you. She's just going through a tough time." Pepper was a teenager once, and she'd had times where her relationship with her parents wasn't perfect, despite them wanting the best for her. All she needed was time, and maybe you do too.

"Pep, she can barely look at me." In all his years of raising you, Tony had never thought that your relationship with him would ever become what it is now. "Did I do something wrong?"

Pepper didn't exactly know what to say to that. She didn't think that Tony did anything wrong, yet how could she make him see that?

"Come and eat. Maybe we can all talk about it downstairs," Pepper finally said as she leads Tony to where everyone else was waiting.

-----------------------

"Happy?"

Harley was currently poking Happy with a selfie stick he had found under someone's car in an attempt to wake him up. Unfortunately, it wasn't working, and Peter was starting to lose it.

"Dude, he's out cold," Harry groaned in annoyance that Harley actually thought that poking him could possibly wake him up. Harley rolled his eyes as he stood up, leaving the selfie stick next to Happy's motionless body.

Meanwhile, MJ was becoming fed up with Peter's constant pacing. She, and the rest of their friends, could clearly see that he was starting to lose his mind with worry, which was the least helpful thing at the moment.

"Sit down," MJ said to him in hopes that he'd calm down enough to think clearly. None of them could really be in the right state of mind while their superhuman friend was in panic mode.

"I can't-" He argued, and both Harry and Ned had to sit him down on a nearby bench. He seemed calmer, but not by much.

"Peter, just think for a second. Something isn't right," Ned exclaimed. It was pretty evident that something bigger was going on than just you going missing and Happy being knocked out.

"Yeah." Harley agrees, nodding his head while deep in thought, "Y/N goes missing, and Happy is out for the count."

"So someone took her?" Betty asks. Everyone was thinking it, but she was the first to say it aloud. It was scaring them how real this was starting to feel.

"Eloise," Peter huffed angrily. He should have known that she'd ruin everything, yet he allowed himself to let his guard down.

"Pete, Ellie didn't take Y/N," MJ sighed.

"Then who else could have?" He yelled. He was sick and tired of everyone seeing Eloise as an innocent misguided girl when in reality, she was the devil in disguise."I have told you guys since she moved here that she is bad news, but nobody listened! Now Y/N is gone, Happy is hurt, and I'm never going to see the love of my life again and-"

"Why would Eloise take Y/N?" Harley asked, not disagreeing with Peter though not wholly convinced. "What use would she have with her?"

"That's what I'm going to find out?"Peter stated as he stood up, his friends following close.

"You can't do that by yourself," MJ stated.

"I'll call Mr.Stark." ------------------------- "I dunno. It seems pretty clear that Y/N can't stand to be in the same room as him," Bucky stated bluntly, causing Steve to give him a light slap on the head.

"Buck," Steve scolded, but Bucky wasn't the only one who thought so.

"He has a point," Sam chimed in, although not wanting to be hit on the head like Bucky.

"Hey." Nat chastised. She's seen first-hand how much Tony cares about you. "It's pretty clear that Tony cares about Y/N. She is his daughter, after all."

"Does Y/N have a diary?" Rhodey asked, causing Pepper to glare at him.

"You're not going to read Y/N's diary," She states firmly. You deserve better than that. "That is a breach of privacy."

"So she has one?" Rhodey asks but quickly quiets down as soon as he sees the glare Pepper sends his way.

"Hey, it might give a reason for why she's so distant," Bucky mutters to the group, which provides mixed reactions. Few nod their heads in agreement, while few shake their head. Either way, they all have one thing in common, which is your best interests at heart.

"It might also give her a reason to distance herself even more. We want to gain her trust, not break it," Pepper argues sternly. She looks at Tony for backup, but one look at him tells that he is desperate for things to go back to the way they were.

"I'm gonna look," He finally says while getting up. Pepper gives him an incredulous look, so he continues, "Guys, this has gone too far. Whatever is wrong with Y/n has put her in danger. If Peter hadn't sensed that something was wrong, Y/N could be dead right now. I'm going to look."

For the past two weeks, he couldn't stop thinking about what could've happened at the bank. You could have died if Peter hadn't shown up. He was worried beyond belief that you'd not only die but die hating him.

"We all care about Y/N," Steve said, bringing some relief to Tony that at least someone was on his side. "She's a good kid, and as much as I disagree with invading her privacy, I do care about her safety. I think that any information could help. We need to get to the bottom of this."

Sighing, Pepper realized that maybe Tony and Steve were right. Something was going on with you, and she worried that it might get worse if something wasn't done soon.

"Well, I think it has something to do with that friend Y/N has been hanging out with," Bruce notes, causing everyone else to mumble words of agreement. Y/N hadn't started acting out until that troublemaker showed up.

"Agreed," Wanda said. "Nothing but trouble."

Everybody hesitantly makes their way into your room, and Nat's eyes immediately land on two flash drives, a red and a blue one, next to your computer.

"Maybe these could be something?" She says, plugging the red flash drive into your computer. Suddenly, everything made sense. The flash drive was full of files about you that belonged to Hydra. It had almost everything to know about you, but the most concerning one shocked everyone.

"She knows I'm not her real dad," Tony sighs. Everybody, except for Pepper, seemed to be speechless. None of them woke up in the morning knowing that they'd find out that you weren't really Tony's daughter, much less discover that you had HYDRA files on your computer.

"What do you mean you're not her real dad?" Bucky asks, just as confused as everyone else.

"And you never thought to tell Y/N yourself?" Steve interjects sternly. This was something you had a right to know. Obviously, you'd get upset from finding out from someone else."Do you know who her real parents are?"

"That's not important," Tony snaps, causing Steve's blood pressure to rise. It seemed important enough to you for you to start shutting everyone out. It's no wonder you couldn't trust anyone.

"It sounds like it is," He says coldly.

Before Tony could argue further, his phone started ringing. Judging from the ringtone, he could tell it was Peter, so he answered it quickly.

"What-?" Tony's exasperated voice was cut off by Peter's panicked rambling.

"Mr.Stark, Y/N's gone, and Happy is unconscious in the parking lot."

Everybody froze as soon as they realized what Peter was saying. Something had happened to you, and that was more important than finding out that Tony wasn't your biological dad.

"What?! What happened?"

"I don't know! She said she was going to the bathroom, and she never came back, and now Happy is lying unconscious in the middle of the parking lot, and I don't know what to do!"'

By now, everyone was panicking. This was definitely a million times worse than the bank incident because nobody knows where you are, who you're with, or what you're doing.

"Okay, just stay there. Someone will come to get you."

---------------

"Are you going to tell me what the emergency is?" You ask Ellie as she drives you towards the city. You didn't need super senses like Peter to know that this was beyond suspicious. It wasn't sitting well with you at all.

"Your dad is hurt," she muttered, but you heard her nonetheless.

"My dad?" Worry began to flow through you until you remembered that Ellie had no way to know something like that. "How? He was at the compound-"

"Your real dad," she agitatedly reminded you as she rolled her eyes. It made your blood boil how rude she was being. This wasn't like her at all, and you couldn't help but want to get as far away as possible.

The rest of the car ride was silent until you arrived at Ezekiel's apartment. It didn't look any better than when you were last there. In fact, it looked more run-down than it was before.

The moment Ellie pulled out a key to unlock the apartment, your suspicion grew tenfold. Why would she have access to his apartment?

"What happened?" You sighed as you both entered the apartment to find Ezekiel sitting on the recliner with a bloodied rag pressed to his side. It looked like he had the injury, but the pain didn't seem as apparent as it should. Your "dad" wasn't any better than she was, but that didn't mean that you let him get hurt. Still, he gave you the same weird vibes that Ellie did.

"Tony Stark happened," he barked. He suddenly stood up and began going through his drawers and sloppily throwing. "We need to get somewhere safe."

"Not until one of you tells me what the hell is going on," You say. Things were going so well until Ellie showed up. Now you have a headache and a possibly massive problem in the form of two suspicious individuals.

"Stark found out that you've been meeting with me," he explained, but you weren't buying it. The only people who knew were You, him, and Ellie. You even made sure that you weren't being followed.

"How?" You ask, crossing your arms, waiting for a good enough response.

"I don't know, but he showed up at my apartment and beat the living hell out of me," He retorted, his face scrunching up in anger.

You look at Ellie, who is standing by the door. To anyone else, it seems like she's just standing there, but you've had enough training from Nat and Bucky to know when someone is blocking an exit.

"I don't believe this." You mutter to yourself.

"You think I just happened to end up like this?" Ezekiel yells. You couldn't believe that you were stupid enough to fall for this. Their constant push for you to turn your back on your family was a huge red flag that you ignored. Not to mention you haven't forgotten that time that Ezekiel forgot your mom's name.

"What do you need my help with?" You ask, realizing that the only way out of this is to play along.

"I need you to help me destroy the Avengers."

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malleux · 4 years

Text

little one. | k.a

-> Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x Parent!Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, More platonic than romantic idk reader has feelings they’re not too acted upon

-> Requested: Yes

-> “ooooh! can i have a single parent!au for whoever you choose in genshin?? thank you!”

-> Summary: Kaeya accidentally meets your daughter

-> A/N: this is the cutest ask ever, and if you know me from my other writing accounts, you’d know that i’m a sucker for au’s! i did take some personal liberties ofc because the request wasn’t really specific. thank you anon! this fic really didn’t turn out the way i had wanted, but i didn’t know how to incorporate all of my ideas, so maybe i’ll do a part two who knows :)

Being an adventurer was a difficult job. Being a mother was also quite difficult. Being both was even worse.

Completing quests and going on daring missions was one of your favorite things to do, but protecting Ella was your priority.

Your five-year-old was your pride and joy, the best thing to ever happen to you, despite you having her at a young age. You and your daughter lived a happy life that you kept completely separate from your adventurer work. Nobody except for Jean and Lisa even knew about Ella, as you preferred to leave her with a babysitter on the days you were around town.

Ella was with the babysitter now, as you were sitting at a desk in the library, researching more on Abyss Mages before taking on a commission that included them. Your mind wandered, though, imagining how Ella would make you play dolls with her when you got home. She’d then play by herself for a bit while you cooked dinner, only to bathe and fall asleep very quickly after that. Goodness, you really missed her-

“Y/N! Just the girl I was looking for.”

You peeked up from your book, quirking an eyebrow. “You were looking for me?”

“I just wanted to remind you about tonight.” Kaeya chuckled, laying his hand on the top of the sword attached to his hip. “You promised me you’d get a drink with me this evening, remember?”

Ah, shit. You did remember.

You’d lost a bet yesterday with Kaeya, and his reward was you stopping by Diluc’s tavern with him for a few drinks. You hadn’t drank since you became pregnant. Kaeya didn’t know this, of course. You’d only moved to Mondstadt a few months ago, but you’d become close friends with the Calvary Captain and the other knights.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell everybody about your daughter. Especially those who you may be slightly... romantically interested in. You’d had men in your life before who knew of Ella. They’d ultimately left, leaving both you and your daughter heartbroken. You kept her a secret from then on, unable to put your daughter through that again.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.”

“You better. I’ll pick you up from your place this evening.” Kaeya winked at you- or blinked, you really couldn’t tell with that god-awful eyepatch- and walked back to his own office. You blushed at the thought of being alone with him.

Was it like a date? Just two friends getting drinks after work? What? You slightly hoped for the former.

There was no denying that Kaeya was an extremely attractive individual. He was everything you wanted in a man, plus some. You often daydreamed about what it would be like to be with the Cryo user- how happy Ella would be around him and how well he may be with children. You imagined your family to be happy. But alas, that was just a daydream.

One that you had to quit imagining. You were getting too hopeful.

You shook your head and closed the book, deciding to head out of Mondstadt to complete the commission.

꧁꧂

“Mommy!”

A grin appeared on your face as you scooped your daughter into your arms, spinning her around in a hug. Ella’s babysitter stood in the doorway with a smile on her face, watching your toddler tell you about her day.

You walked over to the older lady, smiling back apologetically. “I’m sorry to ask this, but I completely forgot that I had promised a co-worker to go out with them tonight. Would it be any hassle for you to keep her a little longer?”

“Of course not.” The sitter waved her hand and you set down Ella, who skipped to her room to play.

“Thank you so much,” You sighed, “I promise you’ll be compensated.”

She only laughed and turned to go into your daughter’s room, leaving you to head to yours.

You began getting ready, but you had to pause, feeling anxiety sink into your chest. It had been a while since you'd had feelings for someone and while this evening may be a casual, platonic outing to Kaeya, it was nothing less than nerve-wracking for you.

Was it platonic, though? Kaeya was always quite the flirter with you- but he was like that with others, too, wasn’t he? Was this a simple co-worker get-together, or was he picking you up from your house for a potential date?

Wait, picking you up from your house?

Kaeya was coming over to get you. To walk with you to the tavern.

You internally panicked. Ella always cried before you left and today was probably no exception. You weren’t ready for him to know about your daughter yet. That was something for when you were 100% sure he wouldn’t be weirded out. He wouldn’t, you were sure, but your nerves definitely told you otherwise.

“Miss Y/N? There’s someone at the door.”

You froze in your spot for a second, but thanked the babysitter and rushed to the front door.

“Hello little one.”

“My mommy’s in her room getting ready!”

“Oh, is she now? She’s getting all prettied up?”

“Mommy’s already pretty!”

“Aha, yes she is.”

You couldn’t help but wince at the sound of Ella and Kaeya’s voices. All secrets were out the window now, you supposed. You came to the doorway and scooped Ella into your arms, giving Kaeya a weary smile.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, I’m ready when you are.”

Kaeya chuckled, “Let’s go, then. I do believe that we have a lot to talk about now.”

You sighed and put your daughter down, giving her a kiss on the forehead before following Kaeya to the tavern. The walk was silent, but your mind wasn’t. You were dreading whatever “talk” Kaeya had mentioned, already fearing the worst. He’s a rather liberated man- there’s no way he’d be interested in a girl with a kid, right? That would tie him down too much.

Your panic attack was cut short as Kaeya entered the tavern and loudly greeted the people inside, leading you to a seat in the corner of the room. You sat silently, fiddling with your fingers and avoiding Kaeya’s gaze.

“So, when were you gonna tell anyone?” His voice made you look up.

“I mean, Jean and Lisa know...”

“And I didn’t? I thought we were close, Y/N.” There was an obvious joking tone to his voice, but you still felt a sharp pain in your heart. You felt guilty.

“I just don’t want a lot of people knowing of Ella. It gets complicated, especially being an adventurer with some enemies. Friendships can get complicated, too.” And relationships, you refrained from saying. “Please don’t see me any differently-“

“See you any differently? Why would I do that?” Kaeya furrowed his eyebrows. “I already adore having one of you around, so it’s even better that you’ve got a cute little mini-me running around too. I understand it gets hard, but you’ve got Jean and Lisa, and now me, to help you out. I’ve only met her once, but I love her already.”

Your chest warmed at his words and you gave him a small smile. Kaeya returned it and looked down at the table, reaching towards your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. “There are no ill feelings towards you just because of that. Some people aren’t too supportive of single parents, but that’s not who I am. Anything you need, you can count on Kaeya to help.”

“Thank you...”

You squeezed his hand back and he beckoned a waiter over. The evening was spent drinking and laughing, never once releasing hands.

#fanfiction #fic blog #x reader #lay writes #writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #kaeya imagines #au #parent au

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