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#some of them had obviously been dead for a long long time some of then were people who'd been at the station while i was there
little-pondhead · 3 months
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[this is kind of a messy ramble, sorry about that]
Demon Twins AU, except Danny is loyal to the League.
The League of Assassins is a “cult” for a reason. They know what they’re doing. Ra’s has been around for a very long time; he’s seen every trick in the book and then some.
So when his daughter Talia gave him two, near-identical twin grandsons, he had already planned out their lives by the time the sun had set on their first day living. He knew the plans weren’t perfect. Nothing ever went exactly how he wanted it to. But that was the joy of being absolutely fucking ancient. Ra’s adapted better than anyone. If something went wrong, Ra’s will simply work around the issue and live to see another day.
So the boys were raised as he wished. Ruthless, with sharp blades and even sharper wit. They matched each other in every way, blow for blow. Neither won more than the other, and Ra’s encouraged the competition between the twins. Eventually, the battle for title of Heir came, and Damian won that particular match.
Danny was fine with this. Thrilled, even, for his brother to earn the title of Heir. The boys were very close, and worked well to take down targets twice their size. Ra’s approved this, and granted Danny title of Shadow. He was to be Damian’s eternal shadow, a guard. Both Talia and the boys were pleased with this.
But then came the time for the boys to learn how to live without each other. They’d gotten too used to someone guarding their back. Too complacent and too confident in their roles. Ra’s knew it would happen, and so sent Danny off at a very young age to live with some sleeper agents in America.
The Fentons.
Damian would stay here, with Talia, to learn how to be the perfect Heir. He needed to learn how to fight without the assistance of his brother.
Danny would go to Amity Park, and be fostered by the Fentons. He needed to put his skills to practical use and learn how to live without constant orders.
This was their Test.
Damian did quite well, for a while. Until Talia sent him off to his birth father, The Bat. Reports on his behavior declined in quality after that, and Ra’s couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction with how the Heir had been corrupted.
Danny’s reports were always immaculate, however. His mask never slipped, and he’d worked himself into the hearts of the townspeople. The sleeper agents, Jack and Maddie, had a daughter who was quite enthusiastic about the properties of the mind, and accept Ra’s instructions to teach Danny with ease. It was the ideal situation.
In Ra’s eyes, Danny was thriving. Damian was not.
And then Ra’s died. The League was in shambles. Damian was at peace with his family, away from the cult he grew up in. He assumed Danny had defected years ago, since their mother stopped giving him reports about his twin.
Then Danny showed up at the Wayne’s doorstep, decked out in full League attire, angry and hostile.
“Tell me, dear brother,” he spat. “Why did you not inform me that Grandfather had died? I had to find out through his spirit when it came to visit from the afterlife!”
Damian didn’t know what to say.
#DPxDC#pondhead blurbs#just#Danny and Damian grew up in a CULT#cults have a reputation for a reason#Danny had no reason to even think about defecting throughout his entire childhood#if being loyal to his grandfather was an issue clockwork would have told him#Dan would have told him#the Fentons are part of a league faction operating out of the US#even Jazz is loyal to them and started viewing Ra’s as a grandfather figure the few times he came to visit#Danny LOVES his assassin grandpa and nobody in amity blinks an eye at him#Ra’s does know about the Fenton portal and phantom#because why wouldn’t Danny tell him?#Ra’s dies and his spirit immediately heads over to where he knows the portal is so he can get some help#ghost Ra’s: my grandson. it’s been too long.#Danny with the worst voice crack: why are you DEAD#Talia is still in hiding#or doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing idk#Danny shows up to ream Damian out and yell at him for his disloyalty#everyone is extremely worried about what Danny will do because he is very obviously still in deep with the league#he doesn’t like the talk about being ‘free’ because he was always free. tf you talking about Grayson.#also Damian doesn’t know about the full properties of the Lazarus pits or ectoplasm. he’s the Heir not the Head. that’s private stuff#Ra’s is a smug bastard using his grandson as a way to get revenge on the living#Danny is HIS shadow now.#I must stress Danny is pretty much the same as canon but literally just loyal to his grandpa Ra’s#maybe Ra’s meets clockwork? Ra’s x Clockwork?#their ship name is Sun Dial now I’ve decreed it
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sophiamcdougall · 8 months
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
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So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
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Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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evilminji · 3 months
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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
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joonberriess · 6 months
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teeth. ☆ j.jk
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⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting
⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k
⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆
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“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”
The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.
You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.
Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.
“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.
“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”
Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.
“What number is this?”
“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”
“I don’t know.”
You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.
You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”
You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.
“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”
You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.
“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.
You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.
“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.
You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.
“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.
You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.
“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”
“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”
“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”
You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.
He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.
You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.
The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.
“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.
The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.
“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.
He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.
You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.
“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.
You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.
You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.
He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.
You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.
He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.
“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.
“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.
A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.
He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.
“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.
Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.
“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.
You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.
There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.
“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.
Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.
“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.
A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.
He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”
You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.
He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.
You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.
From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.
“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.
You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.
“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.
His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.
“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.
“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.
He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.
“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.
When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.
“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.
“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.
Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.
“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.
A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.
“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”
You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.
“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.
You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.
He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.
You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.
“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.
You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.
+
Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.
“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.
“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”
A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.
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TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111
[halloween m.list]
3K notes · View notes
snootlestheangel · 28 days
Text
Post-MW3 but Laswell had only faked Soap's death, all under the guise of it being the better thing to do.
Let Makarov believe he had actually killed one of the 141. He'd walk away from that thinking he had a small victory and wouldn't feel pressured to make his next move soon. Laswell wanted him to go into hiding, wanted the team to take the time to figure some things out.
She obviously hadn't anticipated the loose cannon of Captain Price, and him killing Shepherd threw a wrench in everything.
A few months have gone by, and Laswell gets a hit on some activity from Konni group. She tells the team they'll meet her informant there.
Obviously, there's a bit of a big blowout when they realize John 'Soap' MacTavish is the informant. Ghost takes it the worst of all of them, but he doesn't outwardly react. Not in front of Soap. But when they're alone with Laswell to ask her "what the fuck?" Ghost lets it all out.
He's cussing up a storm, saying it was all bullshit, that they should have been in on it.
"Who in this room knows what it's like to be dead better than anyone else? Bloody hell where the fuck do you think "Ghost" comes from?"
And Ghost doesn't ever talk directly to Soap or Laswell the rest of the time they're working on their latest Intel. It's upsetting to everyone, especially Gaz cause he isn't quite sure what the fuck has happened to his team. But Soap seems to be handling Ghost's cold shoulder pretty well, so Gaz keeps his distress to himself.
Finally, Ghost gets a moment alone with Soap. And Soap starts to leave, starts to give Ghost privacy because that's what Soap thinks he needs: some time and space to figure it all out in his head.
But Ghost stops him.
And the mask comes off, and Ghost slips away to reveal Simon. Simon who looks so small despite still standing over Soap.
And Soap is sorry, he's so sorry, Simon.
And he's begging for forgiveness and Simon has yet to say a word. So Soap falls quiet, lets the silence eat away at him as Simon stands there, jaw working as he thinks of something to say.
"I had lost you, Johnny."
It's such a quiet whisper, and it's so broken and it just stabs Soap through the heart. But he doesn't say anything back.
Instead he reaches for his Simon, reaches up to try and hold his head in his hands once again.
And Simon leans into the touch, allows himself a moment of softness during all this war. Allows this tender moment as he lets Soap hold him gently.
And it doesn't last long, doesn't need to. They're back with each other, in each other's hands, safe and breathing. That's all Ghost, all Simon, had ever begged for.
"The next time you die, I'm fucking going with you, you understand?"
"Of course, LT. You and me, aye?"
"Always."
1K notes · View notes
dungeonpuppykai · 8 months
Note
When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.
If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)
He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.
Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️
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Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 
You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 
You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 
Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 
The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 
One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.
Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.
Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.
Soldat feels something stir within himself.
Something his masters did their best to suppress. 
Not that they would be doing any more of that. 
They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.
His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 
You are laughing.
At your friend that is throwing up.
Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 
A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  
His eyes scan your form. 
Beautiful. 
His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;
Mine.
Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.
But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 
And it's time to go home.
But a home is not walls and concrete. 
It is the people that live in it. 
His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.
James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 
And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.
For what is a structure without its pillars?
He had plundered them single handedly. 
And now he was a slave no more.
James would live, and he would take.
Just as had been taken from him.
You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.
As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 
But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.
Right?
The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.
The third was the window of your room that was open wide.
But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 
You should have taken notice of the signs. 
How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 
Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 
Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 
And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 
When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 
You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.
What even happened? 
You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 
But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 
The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 
A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.
You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.
You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.
But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 
As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…
Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.
Your eyes widen in horror.
Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–
Or, rather, the last time you were awake.
Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 
Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.
It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.
With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.
"Who the hell are you?" 
He sighs. 
"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"
The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 
Your choice of words is much unappreciated.
"Good little wives don't ask questions." 
In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.
Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?
He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.
After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.
He is too close. 
There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.
The shock on his face is evident.
He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 
You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.
James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.
"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.
Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.
You run without looking back. 
The man is not chasing you like you expected. 
But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 
Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 
You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 
Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.
Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.
A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.
That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 
You ran into the jungle for some cover.
Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.
Your body is weak and confused. 
Many hours pass.
You wander and starve.
You hide and shake.
You tip toe and give up.
There are wild animals all around you.
You can hear them.
It's terrifying. 
So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.
Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 
"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.
He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 
"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 
It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 
"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 
He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.
"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 
He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.
You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.
Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 
He tells you your rules as he does so.
"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 
Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.
But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.
A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.
"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 
Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.
You don't give up easily, though.
You try to run more times than you can keep count.
Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.
Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.
And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 
But you don't know when he does it. 
So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 
Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.
Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.
He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 
James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 
He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 
His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 
"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 
Today, though, something different happens.
You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.
How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.
The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.
If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 
No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.
Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.
When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.
You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.
Has to be.
You have no choice.
And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 
While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 
How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.
The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 
How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.
Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 
You don't get him sometimes.
His morals are as mysterious as him. 
Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.
Your tears don't effect him. 
But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.
It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  
The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.
You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.
James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 
After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.
Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.
Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.
"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.
It had been a proud discovery of yours.
James always gave in a little whenever you used it.
"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.
Fuck.
"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"
"What about it?"
You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.
"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.
But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.
Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.
Fuck. 
Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.
Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.
You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.
The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 
It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 
James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.
You had done so in the past as well. 
But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.
It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.
Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.
And then comes the ultimate test. 
Which decides the course of your future with him.
He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.
It isn't a usual occurrence. 
But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 
While he had a metal arm himself…
You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 
It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.
"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 
Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.
But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.
A motorboat. 
Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.
It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.
You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 
A lot goes through your mind.
Flashbacks play before your eyes.
It is almost a full circle moment. 
And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 
His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.
"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 
The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.
"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 
"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 
"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"
You two just stare at each other for a while. 
No words exchanged.
Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.
"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."
He has never spoken this earnestly before.
"I just realized that I do too."
James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 
He tightens his own arms around you gladly.
He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 
The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.
Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.
It was a test and you passed. 
As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 
By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.
.
What do you think hAH-
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jaxon-exe · 1 year
Text
Dp x dc prompt
One day John Constantine decides to check in on the known ghost hotspot that is Amity Park and find it over run with ghost of all sorts. After over coming his first thought of “just walk away, not your problem” and deciding that it is his problem he started investigating from the shadows and finds out about Phantom. His first conclusion is that maybe phantom is the one releasing the ghost. He can obviously tell that phantom has some sort of savour complex and thinks “is this kid releasing the ghost so that he can hunt them down and save the town??” and starts looking into phantom.
That is until one day he sees phantom at the end of a rather long day. Multiple ghost having attracted throughout the previous night and all day long leaving Danny at the end of his rope, running on no sleep in the last 24 hours, utterly exhausted and he just breaks down in a back alley. John sees this from a distance and is like “ok this kid isn’t the cause of this. He’s just doing his best.”
So with phantom removed as a suspect John investigates other leads as to what might be causing the sudden spike in ghosties when the nest ghost attack happens. Up until this point he’s been following a “not my circus, not my monkeys” mentality and just letting phantom deal with the ghost and was gonna do the same thing, had turned around and started to walk away to…
….
… but god dammit the kid seems to be struggling.
So John reluctantly joins in the fight and helps phantom, revealing his presence to the kid for the first time. Now that phantom knows about him tho he can’t just walk away from any of the other fight so John ends up helping him out a lot. After a while of this John gets the bright idea of “hey the kid might not be the ones freeing the ghost but he might know the cause of it” and ask phantom about it.
Danny however being slightly paranoid clams up at the question not wanting himself or his parents in trouble and says he doesn’t know anything. U know like a liar 
Thing is Danny’s shit at lying and John sees right threw that but dammit he doesn’t know how to deal with kids???? Let alone teenagers!! Let alone dead teenagers!! The fucks he supposed to do??????
After thinking about it for awhile he could only thing of one thing.
*ring* *ring*
*ring* *ring*
*rin*-
Batman: John…
John: yeah good to hear from you to mate, lesson I got a question
Batman: hmm
John: hypothetically, if you had a case where your only lead is a kid that knowns something they probably shouldn’t and is very reluctant to tell you said thing, what would you do??
Batman:…
Batman: how old
John: 13-14??
Batman: buy them a burger. Earn their trust. Reassure them they aren’t in trouble.
John: how bloody long is that gonna take??
Batman: your in for the long hall *hangs up*
John:…. Shit
Cut to John sitting on top of a water tower with a bag of take out, felling strangely like he’s trying to coax out a stray cat, as he waits for phantom to drop his invisibility and just come eat with him. 
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puppetmaster13u · 28 days
Text
Prompt 266
Back on my Danny & Ras frienemies/rivals/maybe-lovers-nobody-can-tell-their-signals-are-very-mixed train. 
See, Danny has gone through time a lot. Often. It comes with being Clockwork’s charge-son-thing and honestly he finds it fun. And several times he’s used this time travelling to get some training in. Enter Ras, stage left, also a teen at the time and also learning swordsmanship from the same person. 
And they… utterly despise each other. They would kill the other for an apple slice, if the other one would die! But also, only they can kill the other, as it is obviously their right! 
And well, they keep running into each other. It has been a hundred years, surely the other would die by now? But of course their rival would live through utter spite. Probably to spite them specifically. 
The amount of times they have ended up sparring- trying to kill each other or not- the moment they see the other is actually ridiculous. But time is also passing. And… Danny understands, not having another to talk about things people are forgetting, or have already forgotten. 
How they ended up actually talking without a murder attempt was a long story that included a demon, a dragon, a pair of fae, some bandits, and a lot of alcohol, but it happened. And then it happens again. And again, and now it’s just kind of normal to share a drink after their spars, talking about things that no longer exist, and things they miss. 
Sure Danny can go back in time again, but he knows better than to do it willy nilly. He’s matured, he’s been an adult for a hundred years now, he knows there’s consequences for messing with time, even with Clockwork’s blessings. 
The first time they got married was technically for an undercover assassination. Well, Ras was there to assassinate someone, Danny was there to grab an artifact that should Not be in the realm of the living. And they got divorced after, it was fine. 
They just, also got married again when they met a few years later, for another job. And… okay, so maybe they have gotten married over a dozen times now and only divorced like half of those times. Half of those were for the bit or while drunk! 
And even if technically they’re married or shared a bed, it’s not like they're exclusive! As Ras’ daughters’ existences attest to (adopted in one case or not). They don’t exactly have a label for their relationship, despite others asking for one or trying to put a name to it themselves. 
Now Danny knows Ras isn’t exactly a good dude, or at least on the side of ‘good’ as he’s a literal assassin. But he also knows that good? Bad? Rather relative. He had gotten labeled as a villain when he was just trying to help all that time ago after all, and really who was he to tell someone else how to live their life? 
Which brings him to now, where he’s run into his old frienemy-rival and his youngest daughter. Who has a braindead teenager and a small toddler. Which is fine, really- but also, Talia dear, why are you using a brain dead teenager to guard your three year old son? 
Okay, Talia dear, Ras (Derogatory), why are you using your brain dead son and grandson to guard your younger son and grandson? Do you not have the Pits, which you were soo proud about Ras? Yes, he will spar with you, but for Realms’ sake, heal, what’s his name? Ah yes, go heal Jason and he’ll actually stick around for a few years, deal? Good. 
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 3
Azriel and you try to navigate life around each other after his mistake.
WC: 5.3k
Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Blood, injury, death, angst, feelings, nightmares.
a/n: Reader is sorting through her emotions so don’t give her too much shit for not being mean YET. Don’t think Azriel is done suffering. He’s got some stuff coming to him in part 4…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
-------------------------------------
Azriel’s presence was like the sun radiating onto your skin. You felt warm, but you didn’t know if it was because of the deep longing you didn’t think you could ever get rid of, or because you felt so out of place. His warmth had the potential to comfort you but also to burn you, and after all that had happened, you found yourself expecting the latter.
Things had changed so quickly. Days ago, you were giddy as you approached the male nearby, excited to talk about new books you had read, your interest in continuing your training, a sweets store you had heard about in Velaris.
And Azriel had always been sweet. He would listen to you and make suggestions of his own. He would take an interest in whatever you were passionate about that day, and he always went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable.
Unless Elain was there.
It was if her existence hypnotized the shadowsinger, trapping his attention onto her only. And maybe you could have lived with the scraps you got from him each day, if it wasn’t for how easily he left you behind.
The room was so uncomfortable, so anxiety-inducing, that you began to shiver under your robe. You crossed your arms over yourself to mimic some kind of warmth and comfort, knowing you shouldn’t attempt to receive any from him.
You could hear the clanging of ceramic and metal in the kitchen. The splashing of boiling water into a glass, the stirring of honey into the herbal tea, the clanking of the spoon on the mug. Azriel was always quiet. But he seemed to be making an effort to let you know exactly what he was doing at each point in time.
When he finally grasped the mug into two large palms and turned toward the table, you made sure to keep your head down.
You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat. If he could hear how it still betrayed you after everything, somehow still reaching out to him, speeding up in his presence as if getting ready to overflow with love for him. That made you hate yourself a little bit more.
His movements were careful as he slid the mug in front of you, slowly taking a seat on the other side of the table. You didn’t say anything as your fingers hesitantly found the steaming drink, allowing its temperature to ease the shaking in your bones.
He was watching you, you could feel it. You so badly wanted to know what was going through his mind, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to speak to him. He had hurt you so incredibly bad.
If he hadn’t left without you, you would never have faced that male on your way home. You would never have to see his dead eyes staring back at you every time you blinked, feel the blood coating your fingers every time you moved them, smell his arousal when you crossed your legs or touched your neck.
And even if that male hadn’t been there, Azriel had forgotten you. You obviously didn’t take up enough of his mind for him to spare you the briefest thought. Meanwhile, all you ever thought about was him.
You felt like such a fool.
He swallowed harshly, wetting his lips before opening his mouth to say something.
You couldn't do this. You didn't want to hear this.
You quickly got to your feet, the hot tea spilling a bit onto your fingers in your haste. You winced, quickly wiping the liquid onto your robe and trying not to think of the same hot substance that had coated the same area only two days ago.
It was so warm, so thick, and it dripped down your fingers, down your neck.
Breathe.
Your chest rose and fell in sporadic breaths, and you stumbled a step back to get some distance.
Azriel always had a way of disarming you, both physically and emotionally. But you were too overwhelmed right now, unable to process everything that had happened to you in that alleyway, let alone what had happened with your friend.
Shakily, you breathed out, "I'm going to the other room - to the library."
He nodded, following every movement you made. His soft eyes tracked your breaths, your shaking, the way your wet fingertips wiped against your robe.
"I could join you-“
“No.”
He winced. The word had come so forcefully out of your mouth, you barely had time to think about it. And now you could almost see the hurt weaving through his chest, the way his breathing had hitched and caused him to still.
“I just… I’d like to read for a bit. Thank you, though.”
Then your feet were moving, tea forgotten on the table. You just had to make it to the door and then you could breathe.
"I'm sorry."
Azriel's voice floated through the air behind you, but it almost didn't sound like him. Not like the immovable spymaster you had come to know. Never had he sounded weak before... not until now.
You froze, back still turned to him, unsure if you could look at him for this. You could hear his feet shuffling, as if he were now standing and trying to control himself and stay put.
"I'm so sorry," he repeated, voice breaking.
You swallowed down your own tears, the emotions clogging your airway.
"I thought you were coming for me, you know. When I was being attacked. I really thought you'd come."
A sound of anguish slipped passed his lips, but you couldn't stay to listen. You forced yourself to move forward, to take each step with strength until you could make it to the sanctuary of the library. And once you made it there, you clicked the door shut gently, breathing deeply as you sat down on the couch and collapsed into yourself.
This routine went on for days.
A shadow was always near you, monitoring your movements, your reactions, and your emotions. At first it bothered you, but after a day or two, you began to take comfort in the little thing. It was reassuring knowing something was watching over you, especially when your mind kept convincing your body you were in danger.
Your anxiety was at an all-time high, a brief image of that night sending your body into fight-or-flight before you could gain control of your mind and where you were at.
Most nights you stayed awake staring at the wall rather than sleeping. Every time you closed your eyes you felt muscle ripping underneath your fingertips and blood coating your hands. So you instead laid in silence, occasionally having a one-sided conversation with the shadow in the corner of your room.
Some of the inner circle had come to see you, although you knew Rhys was sending them over slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you.
Mor had come the day following your first interaction with Azriel. She had apologized profusely, despite the fact she hadn't technically done anything wrong. Then, she attempted to take your mind off things. She had brought snacks and gossip, and she had even tried to tell you an embarrassing story of Rhys she swore he would kill her for sharing.
You could only listen to half of what she was saying before your mind would wander, though. Before your body began to feel separate from you, as if it had been taken that night and was no longer your own. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin at times, and the feeling would come out of nowhere. It made you want to itch at the flesh, scratch it until it revealed your former self underneath, clean and untouched.
Cassian had invited you back to training whenever you wished to join. He said the Valkyries would be happy to have you, but he did offer to take up your private lessons again as well.
You told him you'd think about it.
You had seen Nesta around the house only once when you had come out for dinner. She had given you a small smile as you sat down at the table and took it upon herself to control the conversation between herself, Cassian, and Azriel.
Azriel hadn't spoken much that night, only giving a nod or a hum when addressed. Sometimes you felt him looking at you, but other times you felt him unable to meet your gaze as well.
You had trouble doing the same.
You wanted to see his hazel eyes, as much as you hated yourself for it. You wanted to hit him and curse him for leaving you that night, for not thinking about you as much as you thought about him. You wanted to scream and rage at what you had gone through, to allow the fire burning inside of your chest to catch fire to your skin and disintegrate your past and your feelings for him.
Instead, you kept quiet, and you kept to yourself.
You knew that your friends were worried. You saw the glances Cassian sent your way, felt the gentle caress on your mind when Rhys wanted to check in. But you couldn't find it in yourself to pretend like you were fine. You weren't. You couldn't sleep, you could barely keep food down, and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.
It wasn't until four days later that you were finally able to fall asleep, the sleepless nights catching up to you and pulling you down into the dark depths of your mind.
And you really wished you had been able to keep your eyes open, because as soon as you fell under, hazel eyes filled your subconscious.
He was just as beautiful in your dreams as he was in real life. Sharp cheekbones, bright eyes, a soft smile that always looked like he was amused or trying not to laugh. His hair somehow looked like it was both styled and like he had rolled out of bed, running his hands through it a few times. And his stance, the way he towered over you in your dream was so like his lively physical presence that it made you step closer to him.
You felt safe, you felt-
"Elain's here," Dream Azriel spoke. You looked up from his chest to see him gazing over your shoulder toward the front door of Rita's, at the lovely doe-eyed female making her way into the crowded room.
You could only watch as her brown eyes met Azriel's hazel ones, how they both melted at the sight of one another. His scarred hands found yours - hands you found so much comfort in - and they pulled your own from his chest, moving past you and toward Elain.
His back was to you again. He looked relaxed, at peace, happy.
And then you blinked.
In a second he was gone, the beautiful high fae with him.
A pit formed in your stomach.
Another blink.
A cold alleyway, your head hitting stone.
Blink.
Tearing clothes, too soft-fingertips.
Blink.
A sharp pain, flowing red, dead eyes.
"What a lucky male I was to run into you..."
You jolted in bed, your eyes snapping open, chest heaving in breaths. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.
Gods, you couldn't escape it, couldn't escape the blood on your fingers or the cracking in your chest. You couldn't breathe, you were choking on your own tears, you were going to suffocate-
You hastily threw the blankets from your bed, stumbling up and onto the wooden floor. Your feet slipped underneath you, your whole body coated in a thin sheen of sweat, but you kept moving until you were pushing the door open clumsily. Chest tight, breaths short, you moved erratically through the hall.
Your teeth were chattering, your sweat-soaked skin freezing your body and causing goosebumps to form. Your thin nightgown did little to provide any warmth.
You found yourself outside of Cassian's door, wanting needing someone to help. Needing to know someone was there to protect you from your own mind, from the memories that plagued you. Needing a steady presence, anything-
But you couldn't possibly knock. He was in there with his mate, for gods sakes. That would be so inappropriate, you couldn't...
Gods, you really couldn't breathe. Your chest was caving in, you were sure of it. Feet stumbled backward away from the door, leaning your back up against the wall.
Eyes squeezed shut, hand pressed to your chest, you hear, "Breathe."
His voice made more tears fall from the corner of your eyes, a harsh gasp sounding from your throat as some air was sucked into your lungs.
Gods, you missed him. You missed him so much. You hated it, you hated him. Make it stop.
"Shhh," he soothed you, scarred fingers brushing your hair back from your face before his palms gently cupped your cheeks. "Breathe, sweetheart."
You forced your eyes open and met his hazel ones. Filled with concern, they guided you through his directions. In. Out. A hand placed by his own onto his chest. In. Out.
He nodded. He encouraged.
"That's it," he whispered. "Just like that."
You shook your head, your breaths turning into sobs. "Azriel-" you choked out.
And then his arms were around you, holding you against his chest. His large form engulfed your own, and you could feel the muscles of his biceps, smell the clean fabric of his black shirt, hear his steady heartbeat underneath your ear.
His hand stroked through your hair, but his arms stayed tight around you, as if he was just as terrified in that moment.
"You're okay," he reassured. "You're in the House of Wind. You are surrounded by Cassian, Nesta, and myself. You are safe."
The sounds you let out were indescribable, and you knew you'd be embarrassed in the morning, no doubt having awoken the two mates behind the door across from you.
"Shhh," he soothed again. "I've got you."
No, no, no. You shook your head. He shouldn't be comforting you. He shouldn't be making you feel better.
But he was. Stupid, stupid girl.
He pulled back slowly, using both hands to cup the sides of your face once again, pushing back the hair wet with tears. He bent down, attempting to make himself smaller so he could directly search your puffy eyes.
Thumbs swiped across your damp cheeks and your eyes fluttered closed involuntarily.
You loved him. You loved him so much, how could he have done this to you-
"Do you want me to get Cassian?" He asked softly. There was no judgement in the question, only a willingness to help. He had to have seen you contemplating knocking on the door, much to your embarrassment.
You shook your head, still regaining your breath.
He was silent for a moment, his hands still moving in your hair, stroking your cheeks.
"Do you want me to stay with you? Until you fall asleep?"
For some reason the question brought more tears to your eyes, and you looked down, away from the kindness flowing through his own.
You did, but you didn't. You had always felt safer with Azriel around, from the very moment you met him. But that might have changed. Did you trust him to keep you safe now? To truly see you when you needed him?
But wasn't that what he was doing now? Seeing you? Helping you?
What if Elain showed up, what if-
"I can stay in that one chair if you want. Or lay on the floor?" His voice was as gentle as his touch.
You broke. Your body still shaking with fear and anxiety, you knew you could hate yourself tomorrow, but tonight you needed him. And you needed him to stay this time, not to leave you alone.
You told yourself it didn't matter, because you just needed someone to be present with you, not necessarily him.
You nodded, and Azriel tracked the movement with his eyes before letting out a soft "okay" in confirmation.
No judgement. No expectation.
His hand was light on your waist as he led you back to your room, tightening only once to help as you stumbled.
Then he was guiding you to your bed, pulling the covers over your body still shaking with trepidation and the cold. He moved briefly to the windows, ensuring that they were locked before pulling the curtains closed and making his way to the chair tucked into the corner of your room. He pulled it slightly out, enough to be close to you but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and settled into it.
It took him a moment to get comfortable. Once he was still, however, he let a few of his shadows go and they swarmed around you, weaving through your hair and across the skin of your face in a gentle caress that helped to ease some of your trembling.
"Sleep," Azriel spoke quietly. "I'll be here."
You didn't have to voice your doubts to him. The room filled with tension at his words, at the obvious contradiction they posed to the other night when he had not, in fact, been there.
"I'm not leaving," he said to the unspoken thoughts. His voice was firm, confident, even if a tad sorrowful.
You only turned on your side and closed your eyes.
-------------------------------------
A small bang against your door woke you. It was disorienting, waking after finally getting a good night's rest. But that didn't stop yourself from turning your head toward the muffled noises in your doorway.
The wood shielded who was on the other side, but you heard them clear enough, the words sounding slightly jumbled or as if they were spoken from underwater.
"You best be careful, Az."
Cassian. And he didn't sound happy.
"What are you implying, brother?"
Azriel's voice was tight, as if he was balancing precariously and one push would send him over the edge. But you knew Azriel, and he wanted to be pushed, was welcoming of the freedom to let go of what he normally controlled so tightly.
You wondered how long they had been talking to get to this point of tension.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you that you've always been selfish when it comes to females. If you are giving your care and attention to her as a way of making her feel better, that is fine, but if you are doing it for yourself-"
"Myself?" His voice rose slightly at the accusation.
"Can you honestly say your actions aren't influenced by guilt? We've all seen the way she looks at you now, behaves around you. If you are sulking in order to get her to forgive you, you've reached a new low, Azriel."
"You listen to me," Azriel spit out, and you could picture his jaw clenching, the way he stepped up close to Cassian in anger. A beast unleashed, and Cassian ready to take his rage. "She could hate me for the rest of my life, hit me, never speak to me again, and I would always try to provide her with a sense of safety again. Do I feel guilty? Of course I fucking do! I would give the wings off my fucking back to be able to go back to that night. I will never forgive myself for what happened, for not fucking thinking. And I will, deservingly so, live with that for the rest of my life. But she shouldn't have to... so I am doing what I can to help. To see her smile again, to be able to eat and sleep. Okay? Do I need your fucking permission, Cass?"
It was quiet. You tried to steady your breathing at his words.
Cassian sighed. "Do you honestly know what you're doing?"
Azriel must have made a motion for his brother to continue, because Cassian went on, his voice dropping to the point you had to adjust your position a bit to hear. "This isn't just about the attack. We have all seen the way she looked at you before all of this..."
No, Cassian, gods-
"She hates me," Azriel argued.
"Maybe now," Cassian agreed. "But she didn't before. Didn't you ever notice how you were the person she always wanted to talk to? Whenever she was excited about something, you were who she wanted to share it with."
You heard their feet shift on the hardwood floors, the material creaking with their movement. They must have relaxed a bit, the tension ebbing away as Cassian sighed once again.
"Listen, I'm not telling you to not care about her. I obviously know you want what's best for her. But taking care of her now, because Rhys forbid you from seeing Elain, because your actions set off a tragic event... Don't make this harder for her."
Azriel was quiet for a moment, taking in Cassian's words.
"I don't know where to go from here," he said. He sounded so broken. "I had never been so afraid to lose someone as when I saw you carrying her in that night. And I don't even know why. We were friends, of course, but in that moment I wanted to die. I would have killed everyone in Velaris to know who did that to her. I have never felt like that before. Completely unraveled and uncontrolled."
"What about E-"
"I don't fucking care about Elain!" He sounded frustrated, like he was clenching his fists or pulling on the material of his shirt. "I'm not here because I can't see Elain, I'm not here because of guilt, I'm here because I am terrified that if I take my eyes off of her for a second, she won't be okay."
Your heart gave a traitorous beat in your chest. You didn't know if it was because of his mention of Elain or because his words showed genuine care.
"You all can hate me, can think I'm some selfish bastard who is trying to earn himself back into good graces. A liar who couldn't possibly get over Elain that quickly. All I know is I haven't been able to think about Elain since that night. All I can think about is the way she used to give me snarky comments about my book choices or my training style. The way she used to bring me back an extra treat from her favorite bakery in Velaris. And I want her to have that joy again. I don't care if I am forever hated and feel this soul-shredding guilt in my chest every day for the rest of my life, I need her to survive this."
"Azriel," Cassian breathed sympathetically.
"So I am going to be there for her as much as she allows me. I will sit in that chair every night until she kicks me out and I will sleep instead during the day. I will make sure she is eating and sleeping and conversing with her friends, but don't for a second think I want her to forgive me. She deserves to hate me, Cassian. And I deserve that hate too."
Your heart twinged in your chest. You have always wanted Azriel to care for you, but not like this. Even if his care went past his guilt, you couldn't help but look at his track record, his infatuation with females who needed help, needed saving.
Did you only catch his interest once you were broken too? Did he need you to be injured to be able to find a purpose in you?
No. You wouldn't be his pet project.
You would get through this, you would become yourself again. And you would do it without his help.
"Just give her time. Give yourself time too. There are a lot of emotions happening right now. It can be difficult to navigate and understand."
A wisp curled into your hair - your assigned shadow.
"Hey," you greeted it softly. "I'm okay. You can go back to him."
It ignored you, swirling across your skin instead. Shadow or not, you needed to heal without Azriel. Without his conflicting emotions, his back-and-forth, his guilt, and the overwhelming way it all made you feel. You had to forgive him on your own, and you had to heal from the assault separately as well.
You pulled the covers off of you before standing up from the bed, no longer listening to the conversation happening outside of your room. Instead, you dressed yourself in something other than loungewear for the first time in a week. The clothing was sturdy and protective, yet flexible. Then, you pulled your hair back tightly, wrapping the strands in a ponytail before making your way to the door and swinging it open.
Both males turned to look at your unexpected interruption. Azriel looked like he was about to fall to his knees at the sight of you while Cassian quickly masked his surprise with a smirk.
"Sleeping Beauty is finally awake."
You ignored his teasing. "I'd like to start training again. Today."
Cassian’s brows rose at your statement. “Think you’re ready to go up against me already, sweetheart?”
You scoffed. “I’ve had like five lessons, Cass. I’ve never been ready to go up against you.”
He ignored your unwillingness to play along. “Were you thinking of joining Valkyrie training or doing one-on-one?”
Azriel shifted at the question. Valkyrie training would involve his presence at times, no doubt. From the sound of it, he had been helping some of the other priestesses plenty. He really did have a thing for helping broken females.
“One-on-one. At least at first. At a certain point, it could be good to transition to a group… If that’s alright with the others.”
“I don’t see it being a problem. Do you, Az?” Cassian slammed a hand down on his brother’s shoulder, the sound echoing in the hallway.
Azriel grimaced at the hit, but he didn’t move Cassian’s grip. “No, you should join whenever you feel ready.”
You nodded, not meeting his stare. Instead, you kept your head high and focused on Cassian. “So… are you free today?”
“Tonight,” he corrected. “Meet me up in the training ring around 9. Or I can come get you-“
“I can meet you up there.”
“Alright.” He gave you a nod, shaking Azriel’s shoulder in a farewell, before taking a step back. He left with a call over his shoulder, “Be ready to sweat!”
It was quiet in the hall as his footsteps faded in your ears. Azriel stood still, but you could feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to lead the situation.
You swallowed, turning slightly to finally meet his eye. He stood up a little straighter.
“I need to borrow one of your daggers for training.”
Your voice was not harsh, but it did not hold its past warmth when you addressed him. His brows scrunched in confusion, and slight concern, at your request.
“Why do you need a dagger?”
You nonchalantly pointed to your throat. His eyes trailed the silvery scar before meeting your own once again. He shuffled on his feet, biting his lip in hesitation.
You interrupted his train of thought before things got too awkward. “I need one that is similar to that night. I’d like to practice with it. Make sure I don’t freeze in the future.”
It had never been like this with him. Bland, to-the-point, methodical. Before, your conversations had been filled with yours and his interests, some banter, and always happiness. Even when one of you were down, it was never this empty.
And you could tell by Azriel’s hesitation that he didn’t like the idea of you using one of his daggers - either for the specific purpose of confronting your trauma or just using it at all. Maybe he didn’t want to share his weapons with anyone. After all, he’d only ever shared one with Elain-
“Okay.” His voice was quiet, and he licked his lips before taking in a breath. “Do you want to pick out which one you’d like to use?”
You nodded, and he signaled for you to follow him, assumedly to his room.
You had only been in his space once before. About a month ago, you had borrowed a book from him about the history of the Night Court. When you had knocked to leave the book by his door, he had told you to come in, taking a break from the paperwork at his desk to chat with you about the text.
That felt like so long ago.
His room now was in more disarray than that last time. His sheets were rumpled, presumably from him jumping out of bed when he had heard you in the hall the night before. Weapons were discarded on his nightstand, one peaking out from underneath his pillow. Documents were strewn across his desk, both organized and haphazardly placed, pens of different colors scattered across the pages.
The entire room smelled like him, and it was almost like being hugged in a warm blanket. Despite what had happened, your body still associated his scent with comfort. You wanted to hit yourself, to knock the senseless reaction out of your mind.
"Over here," he called, walking over to a cabinet on the far end of his room. He unlocked it and opened the doors to reveal a wide range of sharp objects, immaculately displayed and taken care of. He eyed them, and you noticed his gaze turn briefly to the scar on your neck before he cleared his throat. "Choose any you'd like."
You stepped close to the cabinet, fingers reaching out to graze across some of the hilts. Many of these were beautiful, you had to admit. You didn't want beautiful, though. You needed one that would help you conquer your fear.
To the right of the top shelf, sat a longer dagger that glinted silver from the moonlight casting in through the windows. The hilt was a dark charcoal, a leathery texture wrapping around the handle before sharp edges shot out underneath the blade. They looked like frozen waves turned black under midnight, devastating and destructive. Your finger stroked one carefully, and you felt Azriel stiffen beside you.
"This one."
He was quiet. You turned to face him, dropping your hand from the dagger. "May I take it?"
"That one," he paused, "has been used in many... harrowing interrogations."
You shrugged. "Then it will do its job."
He only looked at you. "You may take whatever you need."
The words held more than just permission to take the dagger. You refused to acknowledge the vulnerability from him, though, to acknowledge his willingness to please you, and instead reached forward toward the nightmarish weapon.
"Thank you," you said, grip tight around the hilt. He gave you a nod, and then you were turning on your heel, leaving the room before he could utter another word.
Dagger in hand, you made your way back to your room. You gripped it as hard as you could, memorizing the feel of your muscles straining.
Those muscles saved you and would save you again.
As you tensed your fingers harder and harder, you let the fear and sadness in your veins transform into something different, something near exhilarating: anger.
You were angry. And you would use that anger to get through this.
No matter who it needed to be aimed at.
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tgcg · 2 months
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this is my element (+ album)
asking me to pick my fave album is like asking an orphan matron to pick her favorite baby boy
thats some weird and cruel circumstances to put upon me i feel like it changes every damn week like a rota
i mean what if my beats misbehave and i gotta put 'em in time out i cant play permanent on that theyre too cute
but yknow what i can show you one thing thats been on my mind lately
===
so when i was a kid we had this skateboard vid by "element skateboards" on DVD
they were this skateboard kit slash apparel company that was all about progressivism and shit and they did these much lauded comp tapes of dudes riding around on their boards and doing the dopest of macho tricks on the shit
flipping it turnways
putting the rock in the house like a big man
we had some of their merch actually
===
so anyways the one we had back then was This Is My Element
released 2007
mostly clips from cali i think and i mean the camerawork is fucking insane on some of those shots
this is gonna sound lame as fuck but i prob spent so many cumulative hours just peelin through the footage and ogling the shit outta it
that framing was tight
===
so you may be asking yourself or me
dave you genuine dicksucker i asked about your fav album not your favorite sordid ass display of smooth dudes hardcore riding and grinding them boards in public dude you have a problem
ok well that wasnt a question first of all so jot that down
but anyways to THAT i say
listen to the music
the whole thing has an original soundtrack of ambient beats
got some abstract hip hop jams, got some more indie stuff, lots of acoustic sampling
HELLA underground
and basically every track minus one is done by sampler beast david p. madson AKA "odd nosdam"
dude is my hero seriously
he is the master of the beat machine i shit you not hes always been kinda my idol on this stuff
aside from bro obviously
===
obviously.
===
anyways he had an E-mu SP-1200 which is a really oldschool sampler invented by dave rossum in the late 80s
revolutionary to the hip hop scene
nosdam had this mega distinct sound to his music that i always wanted to replicate on my own beats
still do
i dont know for sure if he used it on T.I.M.E. but he uses some of the same samples from "vol. 9" which was exclusively SP-1200 so im gonna get a lil j’accuzi on that
it couldve been a boss dr sampler SP-202 though idk
he had one of those
===
so aside from beating the shit out of the pause/resume button to flip my whole cranium at the cinematography or whatever i would also kinda play it on loop to listen to the soundtrack and space out at 2am
the lonely broner seemed to free his mind at night
ok shit broner is good but i didnt mean it like that
that was goofy lets just keep movin
it was the only way i had to listen to it back then but i mean the video is 50 mins long so its basically just an odd nosdam album with accompanying ambient skater sounds and random expletives and whatever
random car sequence
yknow what i dont think people respect enough?
the dude who catches all the "mad stunts yo" on camera
i swear to god at least half the time hes ALSO on a board and that shit is bananas to me
bros gotta be on some whole other level of zen to skate good AND catch all them glamor shots of his fellow skater
thats like an express ticket to the ER imo
the ambulance is already on the scene watching you like an eager crow watches a half dead dog
===
ok gonna go ahead and lay it out flat
not great on a board myself
kinda dogshit at it actually
so maybe im not exactly an arbitrator of skateboard heinousness
but i always kinda liked watching THEM do it i mean who doesnt?
whats an even crazier layer to stack on the "dave" cake is
and dirk told me this because unfortunately it kinda happened post-2009
he would do all these collabs with one of my childhood favorite underground rappers david cohn aka serengeti
surrounded by daves left and right dude even before all the time travel horseshit
thats like
serendipitous as fuck i think!
===
if sburb was just a revolving door of artists called dave that i could bump fists with
instead of other mes in various states of aliveness tending toward extremely dead
i wouldve probably given it something higher than 2 stars on my TGN review
===
so yeah you ask me my favorite album its T.I.M.E. by odd nosdam i guess
bump that shit on a walk your mind will go places unknown to man
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zorciarkrildrush · 6 months
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I think the essence of what drives me crazy about current Enlightened Online Leftist Discourse Regarding My Life Personally And Whether This Time Killing Me Is Morally Correct (as in, commentary about the latest episode in i/p violence) is this:
I want a free Palestine.
I don't personally know a lot of people that don't! They might bristle at the tagline, because it's co-opted by people who do in fact want them dead, but as soon as I lay out why it's in literally everyone's best interest, how a non-free Palestine is horrific both to the people of Israel and to the people of Palestine, how pragmatically ridiculous the occupation of the west bank and the siege upon Gaza are (and I am a very pragmatic person), they get it. And I don't mean I debate people online about it - this, too, is a ridiculous concept - I mean having, time and time again, the deradicalization conversation with my friends, and colleagues, and my family. Obviously not only now - I've always been a very principled and argumentative Jew, ever since I became an adult - and I've been alive for, I don't know, a dozen flashpoints and operations and wars at this point, and I don't stop being argumentative and loud in peacetime either, but especially now.
But that's not what "from the river to the sea" means.
When you, gentle soul from across the sea, echo this slogan, you are either:
By apathy or will, ignoring that the sentiment cheers for the mass expulsion and killing of Jews. Indeed, any non-Muslim present from the river to the sea. This doesn't even begin to cover how even Muslim arabs still will not be safe under Hamas rule - and trust me, I don't care if a Hamas apologist told you different. A victory for Hamas (And we're ignoring the fact they do not have the military capacity for it - I hope you are aware of the privilege inherent to not understanding military conflicts) means exactly that. No "rule by the people". No socialistic, Palestinian utopia to be had, which is a fantasy I'm seeing alluded to a lot recently. Just an extension of the horrific power structure in Lebanon and Syria, where Hezbollah - friends and allies to Hamas - have been playing a tango for decades of both refusing to participate in actual government and betterment of civilian lives, while still draining their resources and controlling them with no real contest. "From the river to the sea" is not a sentiment for freedom fighting - it's a sentiment for a final solution to the people living here who are either Jewish, or for some Very Strange And Weird Reason would rather not submit to Hamas rule. You know - Israeli Arabs, secular and Muslim and Christian, Druze, Circassians, Bahai, take your pick. Their suffering, and my suffering - you know, a person who made the strategic error of being born in Israel while Jewish, which is inherently problematic and not okay of me - don't matter to you. Just the fantasy of an easy, morally correct cleanse of the land.
Are well aware of all of the above! You just don't care. You either smugly chuckle that I, and anybody else who will die, deserve it - or that it's an acceptable loss for the aforementioned fantasy. "Decolonization is an inherently violent process", you'll say to me, chillingly, before implying I have a summer home in Brooklyn I can just retreat to when things get tough. Israel is basically Rhodesia, a very popular blog here mentioned flippantly, so what's the issue with all of those lily-white Jews fucking off back home before the righteous freedom fighters strike them down? Well. This might be the part I urge you to open a book, or even Wikipedia or any god damn thing that will explain to you these upsetting, dense things you clearly struggle with.
So finally:
It's easy for me to discount islamophobes. Like, very easy. It's very easy for me to discount insane evangelistics who "advocate for me" simply because I'm a pawn in their religious rapture. It's easy for me to fight against Israeli and Jewish fascists - I have been long before this news item came across your feed, as did the insinuations that some civilian deaths are okay, actually.
It's easy for me for me to see promotions for donations to non-political aid in Gaza. It's easy for me to see the sentiment that hey! Palestinians deserve safe, healthy lives. That they have deserved an independent state, and were unfairly denied one, for decades. It's easy for me to see people saying "You know, the Israeli government is shit, actually, and their actions endanger and promote to the misery of innocents". Because that's right! I wouldn't be voting and protesting and donating for all of these sentiments otherwise!
It's not easy for me to see people, who I honestly held in high regard and saw having well thought out opinions on important matters, inadvertently echo the sentiment that my death is acceptable. That a terrorist organization, who rule over their own territory with fear and violence, are righteous freedom fighters, vox populi, only out to establish a free state. Like hey, their manifesto said otherwise, so it must be all there is - right? That Jews are just hysterical, they can easily live elsewhere - ever since that nasty holocaust business everything's fine abroad. Besides, it was just so long ago who even cares stop talking about it. Hamas, Hezbollah, ISIS, the Ayatollahs in Iran, the fucking Islamic Jihad - are not interested in freedom. They aren't, and echoing their slogan tells me you are either ignoring that, or support them anyway. If antisemitic rhetoric, half truths and lies by omission work on you today, they would have in any period of time. I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable. I'm not, not really.
Know what your fucking words mean. Have a cursory glance at the history of the MENA and why it's so fucked, one that doesn't boil down to "The Jews, with American help, rolled into where they don't belong". This isn't even a joke. I've seen this braindead, history-revising sentiment repeated so many times, both online and in actual textbooks, that I feel I'm going insane. So many well-meaning people handwringing and assuring each other that repeating genocidal slogans is fine, that calling the i/p conflict "a simple problem" (which means it has a simple solution, right? Just kill the Jews.) is a well-adjusted and intellectual take. That "only the Zionists should die! The rest will be fine :)" I dare you to say that and also give me a correct definition of what Zionism is. Why I, a Jew that advocates for Palestinian statehood and rights and safety and always have, won't also face the wall in your little fantasy.
Freedom to Palestine. Peace in the middle east, fucking yesterday.
A curse and a plague on those who don't want either of those, and just want to cheer on the death of "the other side".
A curse and a plague upon you, when you tell me, smugly, from somewhere safe and far away, "from the river to the sea".
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deadghosy · 2 months
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Ive just been reading your Lucifer big sister headcanons, and thier so so so so good, i love how you wrote it🥰. What about Lucifer with a little sister? Any thoughts? How different would he treat her? Maybe she fell at the same time as him and Lucifer blames himself for leading his sister down the same path as him. I can seen him being a protective older brother because come on their in hell surrounded by sinners its got to be stressful even tho she isnt weak what so ever but Lucifer can help but baby his sweet little sister.
(Obviously no pressure to write this)
Have a nice day 😁👋
As a younger sibling, I was gonna make this as I made the elder sister! So I’m glad you asked this as I can’t help but love to make this version. 🦆 sorry if it’s long, I just had fun making this🔥
YOUNGER SISTER! READER X PLATONIC HAZBIN HOTEL
Prompt: you are the younger sister of Lucifer Morningstar who fell along her older brother.
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Dead ass you fell on top of Lucifer when you both fell from heaven.
“Groannsss….GET OFF!” Lucifer yells pushing you off him. You huffed getting off him as you dust yourself.
I headcannon reader to have a slight rebellious attitude sometimes like Adam but she’s not as terrible.
Like reader has a shirt that says “kiss my ass” with a kiss mark on the shirt as she puts up a rock gesture 🤟
Lucifer found your shirt and burned it, he can’t have his baby sister have such an inappropriate shirt!
“LU-LU! NOOO MY SHIRTTT” “THIS SHIRT IS NASTY LITTLE SIS!-”
He put his hand to your face to keep you away as he burned it. It was a funny sight as you huffed kicking him in his nuts as he groaned falling face first to the ground.
I also headcannon that reader is the reason why Charlie had a emo phase as reader kinda has a different aesthetic than Lucifer.
But on a serious note, Lucifer was kinda scared when you fell with him as he puts his hand through his hair watching you sleep. He couldn’t believe he brought his baby sister with him on his down fall. He knew he influenced you as you looked up to him more than the other angels. It was like if you were his child, his baby.
But he tucks you in bed as you were sprawled out in your bed snoring loudly. He chuckles kissing your head and leaving your room as he closes your door with a slight sad look.
Back to the funny sibling things, you are definitely the one who sneaks in the kitchen to take his leftovers for payback. After Lucifer walks out of his workshop tired and hungry.
You basically told him to take care of himself more. He walked in the kitchen to find his leftovers gone. So you could tell what happened next.
“Y/NNNNN!” You heard a fierce yell as you had shoved the food down your mouth and ran as you heard a loud flapping of wings behind you. “WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU BETTER PRAY!”
It’s was so cartoony at how Lucifer chases you while you ran for you life. You have wings but he flys better than you so it’s no use.
He caught you, making you cook dinner for a month as you groan while he smirks patting a duck like a mafia man. “And you better wash the dishes too-” “NOW YOU ASKIN' TOOO MUCHHH!”
But soon the sinners came and made the freedom Lucifer gave them, turn into pure hell as you watch worried at the stress your older brother had. Lucifer tries to smile to show you it’s not affecting him, but it is.
He soon makes you stay all time in the palace, scared for your safety as you stay in your room worried at how isolated he soon becomes. Charlie would walk around babbling about you as she kept your company. You smile at your cute niece giving her boops to her nose.
I also headcannon you and Lucifer are like secret twins as you both hyper fixate about a lot of things like [favorite thing] as he hyper fixates on ducks and gives you his ducks to show off how cool he is as your older brother.
But also I can see reader being shorter than Lucifer, like to his shoulder as Lucifer blinks like a frog as you smile with an evil gremlin ready to stab someone.
But now for some overprotective brother headcannons.
You know how Lucifer when to see Charlie at her hotel, you joined wearing basically a female version of Lucifer’s outfit. But you wore shades to off your ✨coolness✨
Alastor was irritated at your louder personality but you also had a charming aura around you like how Lucifer has his prideful smile. Alastor smirks down at you as you are shorter than Lucifer, he kisses your hand with made you just stand there with a dotted blank expression.
Immediately Lucifer picks you up like a doll as he growls at Alastor like a dog ready to chump his hand off. He knew the radio demon just wanted to piss him off, so the whole time you were in the hotel with him. He always has you close and behind him from the radio demon.
Now if it was a sinner trying to court you, they better hope you don’t snitch like the young sibling you are. Cause ohhhh boy! Lucifer is teleporting to their house to give them nightmares. Maybe even killing them if they made you uncomfortable.
Heaven and hell agrees you are a cutie, demon or angel. Cause in heaven there were angels trying to court you but your brother was always behind you looking stern as he puff his chest trying to see if they suit you best.
Like literally he scares people off as you stand there minding your business.
“I feel a disturbance in the air…” Lucifer says as he was reading a book but pulls the curtains to see an angel trying to court you with their wings.
Immediately you’re being teleported to your room confused as a duck poofs in your hand.
“What the fuckkkk….” You say confused
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temporaryrose200 · 8 months
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✩My Soon-to-be husband✩
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✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader
✟genre: Yandere
✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.
✟scenario
✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess
✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.
✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)
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Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.
Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!
Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…
A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.
Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…
Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”
About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.
Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…
E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!
The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.
Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…
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unearthly-doting · 23 days
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finding their soulmate: genshin edition.
a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!
includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.
warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.
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XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?
And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.
He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.
You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.
It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.
But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.
Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.
But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.
He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.
When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.
You will stay.
And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.
Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.
Just stay.
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KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.
Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.
You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.
Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.
And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.
Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.
And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?
For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.
But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.
He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.
But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.
Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.
Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.
Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?
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KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.
Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.
She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.
And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.
No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.
Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.
At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.
Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.
Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.
There were, however, a few bad apples.
It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.
It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.
Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.
And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.
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ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.
So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.
That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.
This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.
You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.
And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.
All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.
Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.
And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.
But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.
And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.
Oh.
There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.
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TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.
Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.
And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.
He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...
Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.
He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.
And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.
You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.
Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?
You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.
If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.
Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.
He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.
After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.
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AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.
He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.
Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.
For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.
He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.
You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.
And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.
Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.
Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.
And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.
If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.
Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.
And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.
Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?
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skipper1331 · 1 month
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Loyalty and Love // Leah Williamson
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warnings: dead family member
Leah was a gooner through and through, never been seen in a different club jersey than the arsenals as she was Arsenals biggest fan.
She went through all the youth team stages until she reached the senior team. Her body was full of loyalty to the club while your career path was very different - something Leah did not like about you.
Your career started at your hometown club near Bavaria, Germany, until FC Bayern München became aware of you. You were the only girl in the league and still scored the most goals. So to be fair, your actual club career started at the FC Bayern academy. You started there at the age of 10 and played there until the age of 16.
At 16 years old, you said good bye to Germany and played for Ajax in the Netherlands. You played two years for them and enjoyed every second with the Ajax family, yet after those two years, you transferred to AS Roma. You had many transfer offers, inside the league and outside of it but even though, you had transferred a few times already, you had one rule: never play in the same league with a different club. Roma sent you on loan to Olympique Lyon where you won the champions league and the league, each time as a key player of the team. OL offered you a real contract which you gladly signed - winning the treble. After three years in France, where you had learned a lot technical stuff but also had developed further as a person, it was time for a new challenge. A new club and country.
Spain was calling, FC Barcelona to be exact. After a teary good bye, you left for good - it was time to shine at Barcelona.
Your talent was magical, you could score from every angle, no matter the position and the fans loved you.
You had been nominated for numerous awards, won many of them yet still you were the kindest person. You always made time for the fans, signed jerseys, took photos and chatted with them. You were down-to-earth.
Of course you had haters, people not liking your volatility but you didn‘t care. You had a mission and would continue it, no matter if you had no fan at all or a the whole woso community behind you. So while your job was to score goals, you only had one goal in mind.
You loved the Spanish weather, you loved the City, you loved the girls. They made Barcelona your home and more than that. Playing alongside Alexia, Mapi, CGH, Aitana and literally every one on the squad was amazing. It was the way they played and the mentality they had that fascinated you.
The first season at Barcelona was the season you won the Ballon D‘or, while still being so young. The combination of the playing style that you learned in the individual clubs in each country also made you Fifas the best. You were the best.
On the pitch, every opponent was afraid of you while off pitch they adored you. It broke your heart to leave Barcelona, the City you adored. So why did you leave? It was the thing you had to do. The thing you promised yourself at the age of 16 when you left Bayern - Arsenal would be your last stop ever. The thing you promised someone. Your retirement club, you would stay there forever - as long as they offered you a contract.
-
While everybody had greeted you with open arms at your arrival, the skipper kept her distance, only talking to you when necessary. Leah was skeptical to say at least, some things bothered her about you. She didn‘t appreciate your transfers nor respected them. Every country? Really? Why Arsenal? Her childhood club? How long did you want to play here before you stab the team in the back? When another country became interesting? Maybe the US? Sweden?
And then the tape. The strip of tape on your shoulder, it didn‘t make any sense to her. It didn‘t seem like you had problems with your shoulder nor an injury in the last few years (which she had obviously checked) so why the tape? She - well actually everyone, never saw you without. When it slowly started to look rancid, the next second it looked like new again. When you changed, even in the shower after playing it was always there. Were you hiding something?
Leah didn‘t like you, it was clear as the day but (even if she would never admit it out loud) you were a fantastic footballer. Your feet could do magic with the ball, from assisting to scoring to defending, everything you did on the pitch was faboulous. That, she had to appreciate, maybe you would help Arsenal to win the league.
This season. who knows how long you‘ll stay.
-
After your first month with the gunners, you knew for sure, your heart and brain realized it for the first time: after years, you had finally fulfilled your promise.
You felt peace, nothing more. Maybe you could forgive yourself someday.
-
Over time, Leah‘s dislike towards you turned into much more - hate. When you were near the blonde, she would glare at you or leave the room,
the moments you tried to talk to her, to get to know her, she ignored you and
she would rudely comment on the things you said.
After months of trying, you just stopped. If she doesn‘t want to talk to you that‘s okay. You didn’t have to be friends - colleagues, that‘s it.
-
"When I visited Greece-" you started to tell Lia about the beauty of the country when her work wife cut you off, "wow, Y/L/N, a country you didn‘t play in, really respectable" Leah spat, rolling her eyes. Lia smacked the back of her head, her behavior unbelievable.
It was no secret that the defender felt some sort of dislike towards you - noticeable for your team mates and especially for the swiss as she knew Leah like the back of her hand.
"Ignore her" the midfielder stated, asking you to continue your story.
"It‘s fine" not in the mood to tell the end of your Greece-story, you left the two LW‘s joining Vic as she juggled with the ball.
"You really need to stop that" the swiss international grumbled, "she‘s actually really nice"
"And her loyalty sucks! I won’t let her ruin this club"
The brunette watched the blonde march away, arms crossed.
-
Leah‘s behavior continued like that, rude comments sent your way, cut off mid sentence and ignorance accompanied you every single day. But your mindset was clear: you couldn’t be bothered by her.
You understood that Leah was skeptical of you, you‘re new and played for several clubs but on the pitch you played your absolute best each game. You deserved at least some respect.
-
"Where‘s hopper?" Leah asked - you’re never late. Her new nickname for you showed her antipathy towards you yet hiding it well enough, so other people outside of the team wouldn’t get suspicious.
"She‘s on her way home for a few days" Lia replied calmly, not wanting the blonde to explode.
You had texted Lia about your plans earlier this morning - she was your friend after all. Just because she was great friends with Leah, didn‘t mean you couldn’t be friends with her too. Like I said, you were friends with the whole team, just not with Leah. Besides you enjoyed talking to Wally as it was in your mother tongue, conversation flowing with an ease.
"What the fuck?! She does know we‘re playing a derby this weekend!" The England captain growled, marching out of the changing room, already calling you. Who do you think you were?
Her calls went straight to voicemail which only angered and frustrated her more. why were you so infuriating?
The defender was quick to approach to Jonas - what was the thinking letting you leave? Did he even know about this?
"Why did you let her leave?!" the woman asked loudly and harshly. You made her blood boil. "Is she playing on Saturday? You should kick her out of the squad! This behavior is unacceptable" she scolded.
Even though Leah knew the team would need you, she was too caught up in her anger.
"Who are you talking about?" the coach asked rather confused. Was he missing something?
"Your new signing" she huffed out frustrated, how can he be this clueless?
"She‘s not here. Apparently at home in Germany, did you know about this?"
"Oh! Yes, I know about this. It‘s in her contract"
"What do you mean? In her contract?"
"She‘s allowed to leave, no matter what day, at-" he looked at his watch, checking the date, "at the 20th of March for three days. One day to get there, one day to stay, one day to leave" he explained.
"Why?"
"I can’t tell you that"
-
On game day, you arrived on time at the stadium, your favourite defender already impatiently waiting for you in the locker room. When you entered the room, she was about to stomp over, telling you how your behavior was unacceptable and jeopardizing the team but something told her not to. Your shoulders were sagged, your eyes red and puffy as you had bags under them ad well - it looked like you had been crying for awhile and not sleeping either. You looked small and sad, but not the sadness-sad, somehow it looked like grieving-sad or guilty-sad. Leah didn't know if her analysis was correct, after all, she didn't know you as you weren’t friends - not even close to that - and to the others it seemed like you were your usual self.
As you walked past her to get to your cubby, she grabbed your hand. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned about your well-being. Her stone cold persona towards you was gone for the moment, eyes scanning your face - what was wrong? How can she help you?
"I‘m fine, Leah"
Her hand had a firm grip on yours yet it was so gentle and soft - it was almost like you could feel her 'caring' about you.
But you knew, she only cared about the team and not about you.
"Thank you for asking, though" you smiled a bit, before leaving her touch and walking over to your cubby.
You didn't want to be rude to her because it seemed like she was dead serious about her question. Besides, if you wanted to have at least a somewhat normal work-relationship with her, this might was a step in the right direction.
However, you had to admit, the feeling of her holding your hand was quite nice and made you hope for eventually being friends one day.
-
The game started with you on the bench as agreed with Jonas. It was his decision if he wanted to put you in or not and you respected either way. You were thankful enough that he had shown so much understanding about your family situation, so you wouldn’t be the one to complain about not playing.
Next to you on the bench sat the one and only Leah Williamson, who watched the game very carefully, attentively and critically - the same as you did. In your heads, the two of you analyzed what happened on the field, every bad pass, every unused space or loss of the ball was noted while you tried to come up with solutions. While Leah stated her analysis to everyone at half time, you talked to the relevant person what they should pay particular attention to - most opponents had the same playing style, even if the tactics were changed. Overall, it wasn't the played game in general that mattered, but rather the individual players on the field. If you watched them long enough, it wasn't too difficult to outplay them and their team - Leah and you knew that.
Both of you got subbed on in the 74th minute, the defender doing her job brilliantly while you ran down the wing. The game seemed like it had shifted as soon as the two of you took in your positions. Chances were created, space was used, passed connected perfectly - in all honestly, Tottenham didn‘t have any control over the match anymore, thanks to Leah and your critical eyes.
The score changed when Leah sent a ball flying towards you. With one quick motion, you dribbled around the defender, firing a shot on goal - Tottenhams goalkeeper stood no chance.
That evening a special chemistry was born between your favourite defender and her favourite hopper.
-
If you were hoping that the 'how are you' question meant something, you were wrong.
Her arrogant attitude got worse, as did her mean behavior towards you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, the link up on the pitch earned you enough respect that she at least refrains from commenting. Yet she questioned everything you did and not only that: you were regularly asked whether you would leave the club at the end of the season or whether you would leave one season after that. At this point you felt helpless, you didn’t know what her problem was with you - she seemed like a nice person towards everyone else.
"Come on, Leah, leave me alone" you grumbled as she stood next to you in the locker room with her arms crossed. Especially today she was getting on your last nerve. You hadn‘t slept well the last few days and the bickering was getting more and more exhausting.
"You weren‘t concentrated today" she stated, "this isn‘t acceptable at Arsenal."
"Leah-" Wally tried to stop her but there was no chance. She wouldn’t hold back.
"No, she has to know. She‘s played at enough clubs to know that she has to give 100%!"
"As if you haven‘t had a bad day before"
"I can keep things professional"
"No you can‘t! If you could, you would leave me the fuck alone. You are all judgy but never played somewhere else than Arsenal, so get a fucking grip. At least I have the experience of other leagues"
The whole changing room gasped, Katie smirking, happy that you stood your ground. Leah’s behavior was ridiculous. And this time she took it too far.
On an emotional level, your week had been absolutely shitty.
It‘s like a haunted house, only you‘re the ghost.
On an physical level, you were exhausted.
So, neither emotionally nor physically you could deal with her at the moment.
"Watch your mouth-" the defender started before you cut her off.
"No, you will watch yours" your pointer finger angrily poked her chest, "Listen to me closely, I will not repeat myself. You, Leah Williamson, will stay away from me. I‘m not your friend, I’m not your mate, I’m your colleague, so treat me with damn respect" with that you grabbed your stuff and left.
Leah was breathing heavily, your anger awfully attractive.
"Why are you being like this?" McCabe asked, the girls in the room waiting for an answer. This couldn’t be just because you played for several clubs and she was questioning your loyalty - there had to be more.
"Because she‘s hiding something! I won‘t let her ruin this club" she growled, sitting down in her cubby.
"What should she be hiding?" Steph questioned, you seemed like an honest and truthful person.
"She literally left for three days out of nowhere!"
"She did that when we played at Barca together too" Laia added. She had never thought about that before. But Leah was right, it was unusual to not show up at training when you weren‘t injured or sick, especially since it was in the middle of the season.
"See!"
"I still don’t see the problem" Steph shrugged her shoulders, "she‘s a lovely person and you would know that if you gave her the chance to show it" with that the Australian left. You were such a lovely girl, at least someone had to defend you. Partly, Steph could understand where Leah was coming from - that girl was bleeding Arsenal red.
After Steph had left, the other girls started to leave too, Leah and Kim the only ones left.
Leah was sorting through her bag, checking if she had everything she needed when Kim broke the silence, "Her brother died when she was 16. The 21st of March is the day of his death"
Leah stopped her movements, "what?" she turned around, the colour leaving her face.
"That’s all I know"
Kim grabbed her bag, walking past the blonde, about to leave, "I’m disappointed in you, Leah. We're a family here, and you didn't show her that. Have you ever thought about why she played in every league? You’re criticizing but not questioning. You doubt her loyalty, but she hasn't transferred within the league - doesn't that show her respect for the club she‘s played at?"
"Kim-"
"Have a nice evening"
Alone in the changing room, Leah tried to process the information, now it made sense that you were at home for a few days. It was his anniversary.
She had been a complete ass to you without knowing your story - she still didn't. However, for the first time she felt something like interest. She wanted to get to know you. She wanted to know your story. But most of all she wanted to apologize. You seemed like a sweet girl.
Of course, most of her questions were still unanswered: the tape? Why did you transfer so much? You‘re young.. but for the first time she didn't care. She fucked up and was determined to start over.
I‘m disappointed in you, Leah.
-
At home, the defender sat on her couch, eating some food while the tv was showing her favourite show. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t wait till tomorrow. She had to talk to. Now.
Leaving her food on the table, the blonde called Lia, asking where you lived. The Swiss was hesitant to tell her as she wanted to protect you but Leah sounded genuinely upset about her own behavior.
"Please.. I- I‘m in the wrong here, I know that now. I don‘t want her to go to bed angry or feeling like she‘s not a part of the Arsenal family."
After that, the Swiss texted your address, the England captain already on her way.
When she arrived at her destination, she felt nervous. She rang the bell, hoping you wouldn’t open. She wasn‘t prepared at all - she didn’t know what to say or how to make things up with you.
In that moment, she realized maybe it was a hasty decision to just show up in front of your door and apologize. It wouldn’t be deserved to accept the apology straightaway.
"Leah?" you said surprised.
"Hopper" it was almost inaudible as you had knocked the air out of her lungs. You looked breathtaking. No, it wasn‘t something fancy - you wore an oversized shirt and some shorts while your hair was down but you looked naturally beautiful.
"What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone"
"I- um.. I came to apologize?"
"Are you asking me that?"
"I came to apologize"
"Go home, Leah-"
"Give me a chance-"
"No. Look, I don’t know why you are here or what your problem is but I don‘t want to play your sick games" you stepped back, closing the door, leaving the defender dumbfounded in front of your home.
"I know about you brother!" she called, helpless on what do to. But as soon as the word 'brother' left her mouth, she regretted it.
The door was thrown open, "what did you just say?!" you were angrier than ever. Your family had always been a sensitive subject.
"I know about your brother" the audacity Leah had to repeat her words was unbelievable.
She squeezed herself inside, looking around.
"I swear to god, if you don‘t leave-"
"I‘m really sorry" she turned around, you didn‘t know if she was talking about your brother or how she had treated you and neither did she. Either way, it made you furios, you were balling your hands into fists, trying to stay calm.
"Is that him?" she asked, walking to the picture frame on your shelf, "what‘s his name?"
It was a picture of the two of you as kids, both of you wearing Germany jerseys as you grinned in the camera - one of your favourite pictures.
And that made you explode. How dare she come to your home, implying to apologize which she wasn‘t and then act nosy.
You marched over, grabbing her at the collar of her shirt and pushing her against the wall, "leave me alone" you weren’t shouting but you voice was loud, clear and firm, almost intimidating.
Her breath hitched, "I can‘t" you were so close to her. She could see all tiny freckles, those which only appeared when you were in the sun. She was intrigued by you. Her eyes darted around your features, the wrinkle between your brows slowly disappearing.
You didn‘t know what came over you, but in less than a second, you smashed your lips against hers. Teeth were clashing, all anger and frustration purred in, hands gripping and pulling as both of your minds went blank. Neither of you could think about anything else but each other.
-
The day she stood in front of your apartment, wasn’t brought up again yet you had to admit something shifted in your dynamic that night.
The chemistry you had on the pitch only grew, Leah assisted while you scored countless of goals.
Her behavior wasn‘t as bad as before anymore, she started to greet you, say good bye or other acts of kindness yet every once in a while a snarky comments left her mouth.
After Arsenal had won the conti cup against Chelsea, the celebrations were on the rise when you entered the club. You saw some girls dancing around, some lingering at the bar and others sitting at the table.
You joined the girls at the table, sitting down next to Stina. Lost in conversation with the Swede you didn‘t notice a blonde defender standing right behind you with her arms crossed and a pout on her face, "you‘re sitting on my seat, hopper" she grumbled, the pout increasing.
"Sit somewhere else" you replied, not looking up as you continued your conversation which had been rudely cut off by the English woman.
"There is no seat left"
This time you turned around, looking up from your seat as the defender glared at you.
It was the first time, you had seen her tonight and she looked absolutely gorgeous with the outfit she was wearing.
"I think you‘re old enough to deal with that, aren‘t you?" you smiled sarcastically at her, once again turning to Stina.
"I am" she stated, a smug smile plastered on her face. With the alcohol in her system, she simply sat on your lap, one arm going around your shoulders while she started her own conversation. Weirdly confused but somehow not minding, you let her be, your arms going around her waist to support her. No one said anything about, most of them not realizing what was happening or simply not caring - as long as you weren‘t fighting everything seemed fine.
The night continued like that, chatting, dancing and enjoying the time.
"Could you let me get up, please? I‘d like to have another drink" you asked the defender who immediately got up, "can you bring one for me too?"
"Sure"
She smiled shyly before you left, sitting back down, Lia looking at her with a 'tell me right now what‘s going on' expression.
"What?"
"Seriously? What‘s going on between the two of you?" the Swiss asked, Leah‘s eyes already back on you as you stood at the bar, ordering.
"Nothing"
The defender’s brows furrowed when a man approached you, standing way too close to you, her jaw clenching.
She saw you taking a step to the side, intending to signal the man that you were not interested. In responds, he only stepped closer.
Angrily, the blonde stood up, marching over, "is everything alright here?" her hands settled on your waist, pulling you protectively towards her.
"Everything‘s alright, mate" the man slurred, stepping forward, "I’m just getting to know your friend."
Leah was quick to step in front of you, her hand holding onto you to know you‘re safe, "leave my girlfriend alone or I will break your nose" she threatened.
The man held his hands in surrender before he left.
In an instant, she turned around, cupping your cheeks, checking if you were alright.
"I‘m okay" you stated. What just happened? Girlfriend? Weird man? Break his nose? Girlfriend?
"Here‘s your drink"
She took her drink, resting her hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the table.
What‘s just happened?
Lia was the only one left at the table while the others had joined the dancers. You were about to sit down on an empty chair when the blonde pulled you on her lap - roles reversed.
Raising an brow, "There are enough empty seats this time"
"I don’t care, hopper"
"I‘ll join the rest on the dancing floor" Wally said, winking at Leah whose cheeks turned red.
"You‘re so beautiful, you know" the England captain said, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.
"How many drinks did you have?" you giggled, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along the back of neck. "Not enough to punch that guy" she growled.
You laughed, "you‘re cute when you‘re jealous" not so sober yourself.
She squeezed your hips in responds, resting her head on your shoulder.
Both of you enjoyed the silence that came over you, also enjoying the closeness you shared in that moment. Leah wasn‘t forgiven and she knew that yet she couldn’t stay away from you. Somehow you were addicting.
For once, it was nice not to argue with the blonde but to enjoy her company. She was cute, you couldn’t lie.
"I‘m very sorry for my behavior" she whispered, "I’d like to start over again" you turned towards her, eyes locking, "I’m not asking for your forgiveness, just for a chance to show you that I’m not an awful person. You are a part of the Arsenal family and I’m sorry for treating you otherwise"
You let her words sink in. She was right, she couldn’t ask for your forgiveness because too much had happened already but starting over seemed like an opportunity for the both of you.
"I’m Y/N"
-
The next weeks, Leah was the sweetest person to you. Each morning, she greeted you with the widest smile and when she left the facility, she always made sure to tell you good bye. She treated you with respect and listened to everything you had to say. She was amazed by the stuff you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was something as simple as your favourite colour or an opinion on something. Everything you said was important to her.
Soon the small talks turned into longer conversations until they were endless.
In matches, when somebody fouled you Leah was the first to stick up for you, arguing with the opponent before she argued with the ref (of course after she had made sure you were okay.)
Slowly but surely, Leah earned your trust and appreciation.
She wasn‘t just anybody - she was Leah Williamson and once she had set her mind, you couldn’t stop her from doing it.
She wasn‘t the Leah you had met at your arrival - she changed for good. She was much more. She was funny, loving and caring, attentive and respectful - she was actually an amazing woman and your friend.
-
Standing in the kitchen of Leah’s apartment, you made dinner for the both of you while she sat on the counter watching you and eating the ingredients.
The atmosphere was tranquil and relaxed as music filled the background.
Peace.
"His name‘s Sebastian" you turned around, grabbing another ingredient out of the fridge while you avoided Leah‘s eyes, painful stings in your heart. You wouldn‘t cry, not now. "He‘s three years older than me" you inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself as you continued to cook. "You would have loved him, he was a big Arsenal fan, watched every match" you chuckled, "but was the worst player of all time. He never really was a sports guy anyway, he was rather the calm type of person. He loved to cook - that‘s actually one of his favourite recipes" you nodded your head towards the food splayed out on the counter.
The dish you were making had brought you so much comfort after his death. It felt familiar. Sometimes, you imagined him standing in the kitchen, so concentrated that his brows would furrow as he cut the vegetables or when he seasoned - never a drop too much. He was very particular when it came to cooking, but rightly so, because when he did it, it always tasted absolutely perfect.
"He used to be my best friend"
Your heart broke into pieces saying it out loud. He wasn‘t just anybody - he was your brother, the only man you ever loved and him more than anyone.
The two of you had a special bond, you basically owed him your entire career. Because it was him who kicked the ball around with you for hours,
because it was him who drove with you to training when your parents had to work,
because it was him who always watched your matches,
because it was him who always believed in you, even when you were on the verge of giving up.
He was your biggest supporter, the person who believed you could be the best footballer in the world one day and the one person who made sure that you had a life outside of football.
And even though you would have never shared your charger with him, you would have given him your lungs, so he could breathe.
"What happened to him?" Leah asked, her voice gentle, testing the waters if it was okay to ask or too much.
"When-" you closed your eyes, holding back the tears that were about to fall, "I was at a birthday party. At some point during the night I asked him to pick me up because I wasn't feeling well. He did it without hesitation. On the way home we- we got hit by a car and crashed into a tree. Both of us were conscious but he was coughing and bleeding very badly. It looked very bad. I prayed to every god I knew that they should take me and not him- they didn‘t listen" tears were streaming down your face as you aggressively cut the remaining vegetables, "his last words were 'make me proud' and i remember shouting at him but it was too late. I told him I loved him- he took his last breath with a smile on his face"
Silence filled the room, small sniffles the only thing being heard. You grabbed a tissue, blowing your nose and another one to dry your tears, "I am- was blaming myself for what happened, so I left home as soon as I could"
Leah was listening carefully, her heart aching seeing you in pain and the pain you had been through.
"I always complained about others leagues, because they seemed so easy and everything" you chuckled at the memory, "and he always was like 'you can‘t complain if you haven‘t played there'" mocking him, the most german accent in your voice, "so that’s what I did. I have played in several leagues but I always knew Arsenal would be my last stop"
Everything made sense now, Leah‘s heart broke even more, realizing what an absolute ass she was while you only had one goal in mind - to make him proud.
It was never your plan to ruin Arsenal, you wanted to stay there to fulfill the promise you had made in the night that changed your life.
-
Leah saw you with different eyes now, her heart was beating for you in more than one way. She admired you - for the way you play, how strong you are and how hard life had been for you yet still smiling throughout it.
She had to protect the ray of sunshine and the feisty beast you could be. You weren‘t just anybody - you were Y/N Y/L/N, the best footballer in the world.
The defender was a 100% sure, your brother would be more than proud of you and the woman you became.
But she also knew what she had to do. You deserved an apology, even more than that - you deserved every good thing in the world. And if she could she would take all your pain away.
-
It was in the middle of the night, all lights turned off besides in the kitchen of the blonde defender. She sat at the kitchen table, one sheet of paper and a fountain pen in front of her.
Dear Sebastian,
I’m Leah, Leah Williamson.
I've been playing for Arsenal my whole life. I've had my best and worst moments at the club. All of my best moments had to do with my team, my friends, my family, whereas my worst moments had something to do with my performance or injuries. Unfortunately, because of my loyalty and love for the club, I was blinded from seeing the important things - your sister. I never understood why she had transferred so often - it seemed like she was volatile and didn't understand loyalty and love. But she does - she does that more than anyone else.
Her loyalty was only ever dedicated to you.
She is an incredible person and I’m so sorry for the way i treated her at her arrival (I will tell her that, this time when I’m fully sober and explain everything). But I’m writing you to tell you that I like your sister, more than I ever thought I would. To be honest, that‘s the first time I’m admitting it to someone, I didn‘t even admit it fully to myself - but I do. I like her. And I guess, this is me asking for your blessing.
A blessing that I can treat her right if she lets me,
a blessing that I can always support her,
a blessing for one chance with her.
I know, there is much too make up for and my behavior will never be excused - no apology could be strong enough for what I have done - but I want you to know that I will regret it till the rest of my life.
So while you may be her biggest fan from paradise, I want to be her biggest fan from earth.
I promise to do everything in my power to be the best person she deserves.
Sincerely,
Leah Williamson
With a lighter in her pocket and the letter in her hand, she went outside on the balcony. The night was chill and quiet, the perfect atmosphere as the moon shone brightly. Her nerves were calming down and her mind seemed to find rest as she looked up in the sky, "one chance" she whispered, burning the letter. She watched the ink and paper slowly disappear, the smoke rising into the night sky. She knew it was unrealistic to expect any sign of positive responds but was it wrong to hope? When the letter was fully burned, she waited till the smoke was completely gone before she went back inside, turning off the kitchen light and making her way to bed.
When the blonde woke up the next day, she made her way to kitchen immediately, needing her morning tea. She frowned and froze.
"Hello?" she called.
No response.
She had turned off the light last night, didn‘t she?
She sure did!
Was this her sign? Was this the sign that the letter arrived?
It was his blessing.
-
"Hey" the blonde greeted you with a wide smile when you entered the changing room.
Matching her smile, "good morning" you walked to your cubby.
"What are you doing tonight?" she followed you, the smile not leaving her features. Someone woke up in a good mood, you thought.
"Going home, eating, then sleeping" you replied.
"Do you want to watch the Arsenals men game tonight? With me?"
"Are you nervous?" you asked, the defender fidgeting with her fingers as her cheeks were slowly turning red, "I’d love to watch the match with you."
And if you thought her smile couldn’t have gotten wider, you were wrong - the smile she sent you was from ear to ear.
"Perfect" with excitement in her body, she pressed a peck to your cheek before she happily skipped out of the room, the other girls watching the interaction that just happened closely.
"Are you blushing?" Katie laughed loudly as you embarrassingly turned to your bag, in fact blushing.
-
Half an hour before kick-off you rang Leah‘s doorbell, takeout in your hands. You weren‘t in the mood for cooking and Leah‘s cooking skill were eh, e for effort?, also you had been craving Chinese all day long, so that‘s what you got.
"I brought food with me!" you grinned, pushing yourself inside as soon as the blonde had opened the door.
"What did I do to deserve this?" she asked chuckling at your eagerness as you walked in her kitchen to get some plates and cutlery.
Cheekily, you replied "Nothing, I was just hungry"
Serving the food on the plates, you sat down at the table with Leah, comfortable silence filling the air while the two of you ate dinner.
Something was bothering Leah though, you could tell. Every now and then it seemed like she wanted to say something yet she closed her mouth quickly after.
"I‘m sorry for my behavior" she mumbled, "when you arrived at Arsenal, I mean" you looked up from your plate, meeting her eyes for a brief second, "I was skeptical about your loyalty and it got out of hand" carefully she laid her hand on yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull away.
You didn‘t - you wanted to hear what she had to say.
"I‘m really sorry and I know we started over, but I need you to know how sorry I am, this time without any drink in my system. You’re the most loyal person I know, I just didn‘t notice it"
"Leah" you said gently, "look at me, please"
The defender raised her head, looking at you with unsure eyes, rapidly tapping her foot under the table.
"Thank you for telling me. I guess I would have been skeptical too if I had played for the gunners my whole life" you told her, "I’m not excusing your behavior because it wasn‘t nice or appropriate but I don‘t have any bad blood against you either. In fact, I enjoy your company" you pulled her hand from hers, only to put it against her side profile, softly caressing the apple of her cheek.
Subconsciously, she leaned into your touch, "I‘m very sorry"
"I know"
The unspoken 'why' barrier was finally removed.
-
"Arsenal will win, I can feel it!" the defender stated, flopping down on the couch. With a bowl of popcorn in your hand, you sat down next to her, somehow your thighs touching even though the couch was big enough. "Liverpool is a tough opponent"
"Oh stop it! None of that"
Making herself comfortable on the couch, she turned on the tv, ready to see Arsenal win.
Getting comfortable yourself, you pulled your legs on the couch, leaning towards the armrest on the other side which earned you a glare, "what do think you‘re doing?"
"Oh, sorry" in an instant your feet were on the ground.
"No, what are you doing over there? Come here" she nodded to the space between her legs, signaling you to cuddle her.
With red cheeks and a racing heart, you crawled over, settling between her legs as your body melted into hers, head resting on her chest while her arms wrapped around you.
Leah was sure you could hear her racing heart and even though she desperately tried to concentrate on the match, she just couldn’t. With you in her arms, she wouldn’t ever want to think about anything else. You looked so precious in her arms, eyes fully focused on the tv.
"You are so beautiful" she admired, looking at you with heart eyes.
"What?"
You prompted yourself up, looking at the blonde who was smiling dazedly at you, "you are just so gorgeous" her fingers started to play with your hair as she got lost in your eyes, "let me take you on a date"
It was crazy how the mood had changed - from apologies at dinner to cuddling on the couch to asking you out.
"Okay" you smiled shyly, cheeks crimson red as your skin tingled.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah"
You stared at each other, eyes shining with adoration and passion, both of you slowly leaning in.
When your lips met, the world seemed to stop spinning, fireworks exploding as you melted into each other and Arsenal getting themselves on the scoreboard. She kissed you so gentle and tender - the complete opposite of the kiss you had shared before.
Everything was perfect.
-
After many many dates, the blonde asked you to be her girlfriend. None of your friends surprised at this point - you had always been obsessed with each other.
The two of you had been caught kissing several times, not even trying to hide it. Leah loved kissing you but she also loved physical touch in general, always holding your hand, having her arm around your midsection or her hand on your thigh while driving. She couldn’t get enough of you.
-
"Come to bed" the blonde whined, waiting for you to join her under the covers. Weirdly, neither of you could sleep good at night without being in each others embrace, so it became your routine - either Leah would sleep at your home or the other way around - this night you were at Leah‘s, and obviously you had stolen a shirt from her wardrobe as your pajamas - which she liked very much. You looked so cute in her clothes.
When you joined her, her arms were immediately wrapped around your body as she pulled you close, pressing a good night kiss on your temple.
The next morning, you woke up with hair in your face and a head resting on your chest, the blonde defender still peacefully asleep. You stayed like that for awhile, your hand gently rubbing her back before you slipped out of bed, ready to make some breakfast and your much needed coffee.
Since it was the weekend and your day off, you decided to surprise the England captain with some self made pancakes - you knew she loved them.
While Leah woke up due the feeling of your absence which turned out to be correct, something she didn‘t like. Sleeping without you was awful already but waking up without you? absolutely horrible.
Grumpily, she made her way out of the bedroom, the smell of pancakes hitting her nostrils, lightening her mood in an instant. Following the smell, she found you in the kitchen, only wearing a sports bra and some of her old Arsenal shorts - you looked cute - booping your head to the non existing music, no doubt that you were humming some song. Silently, the defender walked up behind you, her arms smacking around your stomach, "gosh, you scared me!"
"Sorry, baby" apologetic, she pressed multiple kisses on the side of your neck, fingers tracing along your sides.
You inhaled sharply when she traced along the stripe of tape on your shoulder, she had never brought it up before, respecting whatever story was behind it.
"You- you can take it off" you whispered breathlessly, anxiety and fear creeping through your body.
"Are you sure?" her lips kissed the other side of your shoulder, trying to calm you down and ease your mind.
"Yes, just- be careful, please"
and that’s exactly what she was. All of her moves were gentle and careful - you weren’t afraid that it would hurt pulling the tape off but the story behind it.
After the tape was ripped off a big scar was displayed on your shoulder, "it‘s from the car crash" you said, pain shooting through the healed wound. It wasn‘t an injury pain rather the type of phantom pain - suddenly you were back in the car.
"It‘s a constant reminder of what had happened - something that‘s my fault" you admitted, fighting the tears, "I started to cover it up but make up didn‘t work, so the physio at Ajax taped it. And since that day, I do it all the time"
Leah‘s heart broke at the vulnerability she was seeing, your posture seemingly weak and exposed.
"Is this okay?" Her pointer finger traced over the scar..
"Yeah"
..not in a way that made you uncomfortable but in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to be ashamed of it.
"What about this?" for a moment you didn‘t feel her touch at all before she pressed featherlight kisses over your scar.
"yes"
Tears were streaming down your face, all of your walls broken down now, Leah made you feel perfect the way you are - because you are.
"I‘m proud of you"
Everything came crashing down, a sob escaped your throat and within a second, you were in your girlfriends arms, crying into her shoulder. The tears that you had not allowed to shed in previous years, fell all at once now.
The England captain hugged you through it all, letting you cry as long as you needed - she wouldn‘t go anywhere.
She had promised your brother to do everything in her power to be the best person you deserve and that‘s what she did, does and will do.
She kept her promise and you did too.
Arsenal was always half but never whole, Leah‘s begun to feel like home.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 12 days
Text
Finally Getting Help (pt 12)
Masterpost
“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”
“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little. 
“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”
“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason. 
“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.
“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.
A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling. 
“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”
“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen. 
“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously. 
“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.
“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.
He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.
Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.
Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back. 
There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”
“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.
---------
The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.
It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new. 
By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…
“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.
Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired. 
Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?” 
“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.
“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny. 
“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.
When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe. 
Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching. 
“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.
“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?” 
“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor. 
Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.
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