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hxney-lemcn · 4 months

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Affections + First Kiss — General! Scarecrow, Riddler, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Catwoman x gn! reader

summery: affection and first kiss headcanons.

tw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), mentions of toxic dynamics

a/n: I've never wrote headcanons for multiple characters in one thing before, so enjoy! I love them all.

wc: 2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Scarecrow

❥Jonathan wasn’t used to a kind touch. Being bullied growing up, being beaten by the bat. No, all he knew was the harsh touch of a fist. The relentless shoves. The purpling of bruises that always showed after. The red blood that would drip from his nose. The burning hatred that steadily grew towards those who wronged him.

❥So when you came into his life, he would flinch if you raised a hand. He would unconsciously back away. The warmth in his heart that you stirred was unusual to him, a feeling he’s never felt towards anyone. He was used to the bitterness after an interaction, not longing.

❥You eased him into it. Only when you two started dating did he ever think twice about your touch. He knew you held back your affections. He watched you lift a hand up, only to bring it back down to your side. And to Jon, that meant the world. He felt relief when you didn’t push him into uncomfortable territory, and he respected you all the more for it.

❥Although a part of him wished you would hold him. Touch him. He wondered if your skin felt as soft as it looked. Though he also feared that your touch would sting, and the comfort you brought would be no more. No, he would never reach out first.

❥Starting out slow, he let you hold his shoulder. No matter how careful you’ve been for however long, you slipped slightly. It was a gesture not many think twice about. Holding onto someone's shoulder as you look over them, holding onto them for balance. It was only when you felt him tense under you, his ramblings pausing, that you realized your mistake. Yet, Jon had only reassured you that you did nothing wrong.

❥Having realized that Jon seemed to open your touch, you continued. Lightly brushing your hands, shoulder touches, even just sitting closer. It was like you were single handedly rewiring Jon’s brain, teaching him that not all touch hurts. That he too deserves a kind hand. The flinching had dulled, and he would even look forward to you being near him.

❥So when you finally got to kiss him? He was a dead man. You got him hook line and sinker. I hope you weren’t expecting to leave him any time soon, because after you opened him into a world of warm affection, he doesn’t want to let go.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Riddler

❥Touch is a big no no. Similar to Jonathan, Edward had been bullied from a young age. Teased and ridiculed, shoved and hit. If not from his peers, then from his own father. His world was cruel for as long as he could remember. In fact, his brain started to warp, perceiving the hits as a form of love, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

❥Edward Nygma is a touch starved man. He longs for the comforts others seem to get so seamlessly. Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want anyone touching him. Tap his shoulder if you dare.

❥You were no different, at first. You quickly caught on to his distaste of touch when he reprimanded someone for getting a little too friendly with him. But you managed to weasel your way into his estranged heart. With how respectful and kind you were, he quickly found himself ensnared with your affection. Even hands free you managed to boost his ego and make him feel, should he dare say, loved for. You gave him praise that he had longed for, which earned you a seat right by his side.

❥It was also partly to keep a closer eye on you. Part of him preened at your praise, and another was weary. Why were you so kind? He was a well known criminal, he knew better than to just believe you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart. Y’know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

❥I honestly don’t know how you deal with it. He always tries to catch you off guard with a riddle or puzzle. He pushes you away by ridiculing you and belittling you. Yet you won’t stop. You keep spilling his praises, and it’s so baffling to him. Yes, he is the smartest man in the world, but you managed to become a riddle. Good luck now.

❥When you first touched him, it was an innocent hug. He had managed to pull off a heist and got away from Batman without a scratch! Of course he had no doubts about his success, you didn’t either. When he got back to the hideout, you were clapping while singing his praises. Edward felt on top of the world, adrenaline rushing through his veins. When your arms wrapped around him, your scent clouding his thoughts, your warmth leaching into him, he found himself reciprocating.

❥Now, whether your dating or you’re just friends, it matters little to the green clad man. You had given him a taste of a touch he’s always longed for. And he realized that he’s more comfortable around you than he’d like to admit. He never reaches out first, but he’ll never turn you down if you want to hold his arm.

❥His teasing towards you turns lighter, just as his heart feels. So when you finally seal the deal with a kiss, he’ll make sure you never slip through his fingers.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harley Quinn

❥She will smother you with affection right out the bat. Hugs, hand holding, kisses, you name it. You don’t even have to date her for her to leave a smooch on your lips. Harley Quinn easily trusts people, and you’re no exception. She finds comfort in touch, so why should she deny herself it? She also finds it expresses her genuine affection for you in ways she couldn’t verbalize.

❥If you don’t like PDA, please tell her right away. She doesn’t understand it, I mean why wouldn’t you want to show your love to the world? But she also doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you wanna keep it behind closed doors, she’ll try her best. But don’t be too surprised if she sneaks in a little smooch or hug if no one’s looking.

❥Harley Quinn is one of the most affectionate rogues out there. But it’s not always sunshine and rainbows with her. She had been in a seriously abusive relationship, and you have to help her remember that she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around you. That no matter the argument, you won’t raise your hand to strike her. It takes her a long time to come out of that headspace, if ever. It’s a good thing you’re by her side to help coax her into healthier practices.

❥If we want to get a little darker, Harley may try to treat you like the Joker treated her. It’s scary to see her go from bubbly to dark. Her features twisted into a wicked sneer as she asks that you’ll never leave her. That no matter what, you’ll always love her. During these moments, you gotta stand up for yourself. She’s trying to gain a sense of control she never felt in her previous relationship, and you have to make her snap out of it. When she comes to and realizes what she just did, the look of utter terror in her eyes is the most heart wrenching thing. She’ll sob, pleading that she didn’t mean to, that she never wanted you to go through that, that she’s terrified of becoming him.

❥Please hug her, kiss her, squeeze her gently. She loves it. All Harley wants is to be loved and to love, and getting affection shows her how genuine you are and is the biggest comfort for her. Feeling your warmth, feeling the softness of your skin, it brings her peace.

❥The first time you made the first move to kiss Harley, she nearly did a backflip. Her little sugar plum made the first move! I hope you didn’t have anything planned, because Harley won’t let you go for the rest of the day.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Poison Ivy

❥I’m not sure how you weren’t just killed or turned into one of her goons. She’s not one for humanity. She keeps a sharp eye on those who dare tread into her territory. There’s no way to beat around it. She drugs you, finding out what your true intentions are. It has to be something she deems worthy enough to keep you around. She barely puts up with Harley as it is.

❥Once you gain your free will again, you have to continuously prove your loyalty. Of course she can guarantee it herself if she has to, but you’ve managed to catch her eye. So prove your worth to her, prove that her interest in you isn’t just a mistake. It will take a long time. She’s been wronged one too many times, and she won’t make that mistake again.

❥Even if you manage to gain her trust, she won’t drop her walls around you. Though she’s a bit nicer. Ivy knows that a person works better with praise, but she also means it deep down. She doesn’t say what she doesn’t mean, so don’t take her words for granted. Not that you really can when her perfume scent always seems to cloud your senses.

❥You let Ivy make the first move when it comes to touch. For a seductress, she won’t touch you if she doesn’t have to. Not to mention the toxins that fill her blood. Who knew if one tap on her shoulder meant your certain doom…but maybe that was a bit of the thrill you loved when being by her side. Though you’ve seemed to find a small soft spot in her heart, right next to Harley Quinn. She wouldn’t tell you that though, best to leave you on your toes lest you get too comfortable.

❥After going so long without a single touch from the green goddess, when she started playing with your hair, you found yourself seizing up. Ivy brushed her fingers through it so gently, yet all you could wonder is if it was finally over. If she grew bored of you, or if she started to find you bothersome. But her gentle reassurances lulled you. Her warm voice and gentle hands relaxed you. It was then that you realized her affections for you ran deeper than she led on.

❥You’re first kiss was electrifying. That underlying thrill that your life was held in her hands. That she killed men with the very action she committed tenderly with you. Yet deep down you knew she wouldn’t hurt you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Catwoman

❥It's not easy catching her attention. She won’t settle for less than perfection. She is catwoman after all, she has a reputation to uphold. So when she looked at you, and I mean really looked at you, she decided why not have a little fun? Whether you’re a villain, anti-hero, vigilante, or civilian, she’ll take time out of her busy schedule to drop by.

❥She likes to give mixed signals. It keeps you far enough for her to feel in control, yet it also satiates her hunger. She’ll lean in real close, only to grab something from behind you type of beat. She loves to watch you become a stuttering mess, but she doesn’t mind if you banter back. It’s all a part of the fun.

❥No matter how close you seem to get, you’re somehow still a mile away from Selina. She slips away from your affection without you even realizing it. She always turns the moment into a suggestive one. If she left it tender, then it would be too real. It takes time for her to warm up to you and really trust you.

❥If anything, the first kiss happens before anything truly tender. The kiss catches you both off guard, neither sure who started it. Selina tries to wrap it into something that doesn’t make her heart stutter. Tries to turn it suggestively like she always does, but with the way you tenderly hold her cheeks, she feels herself melt. Finally, she succumbs to these feelings you managed to stir within her, and she isn’t sure if she wants to thank you or curse you out. Maybe she’ll settle for a dinner, tab on you of course.

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hanaonesflower · 1 year

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Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

#as someone who has a lot of trouble giving into physical touch #even tho I’m touch starved #this one is for the girlies that feel the same way as me #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #hq shorts #iwaizumi fluff #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #⌑ 5 LL series ⌑#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyu angst #angst to fluff kinda

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too-much-tma-stuff · 11 months

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Mutually Assured Disaster

How I imagine the first meeting from @the-b1ah AU here. I plan to write Danny’s first patrol with Jason and maybe the training as well.

This isn’t edited so if you see any errors please let me know.

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Danny skidded around a corner, his shoulder slamming into the brick wall but there was no time to worry about that bruise and it did stop him faster. He took off again down this ally, a energy blast slammed into the wall just behind him and he gritted his teeth, flinching but not making any noise or slowing down, he needed all the air he had to run. He was already so weak from what the GIW had already done to him but this was his only chance, the transfer to their facility in Gotham. He could sense that the city was a never-born in its own way and it was closing ranks to protect him, walls shifting in perceptible ways to open up passages for him, guiding him towards something and slowing the agents down.

He was so weak and the cuffs still on his wrists stopped him from phasing through anything, all he could do was run, feeling the blood and ecto pumping through his veins quicker with each step. It stained the white pants and scrub shirt they had given him, he was getting dizzy, his quick breathing rasping over a dry throat and his legs burning but he couldn’t stop. Not when he had just now started to sense what Gotham was sending him towards.

It was a signature like his own! Another undead, someone who could help him and hopefully would. Gotham felt to warm to be sending him to someone who would hurt him or be taken too, he trusted her as one of the never-born ancients, she wanted what was best for the city that was hers. He tried to turn another corner, fell, rolled and managed to stagger back to his feet though it sapped his momentum and tore open a few more old wounds. His eyes landed on a tall, broad man wearing a red helmet that completely covered his face. That was him!

“Help me,” Danny gasped desperately, “Please.” He hadn’t even noticed there was a gun trained on him until it snapped to the opening of the ally. Danny scrambled behind the strange man, making himself small as the guys and white came sprinting around the corner as well, blasters pointed at them.

“Return the fugitive!” They demanded as Danny’s abused legs finally gave out and he sunk to his knees with a soft whine, praying that this man would be enough to keep them both safe.

“Fugitive? That’s a whole ass child, why are you chasing a child with guns?” Red Hood demanded furiously, his own guns trained on the two agents.

“They might look like a child but their an extremely dangerous meta. We know Batman doesn’t like metas in Gotham, so we’ll just take him and go.” The agent said starting to approach only for hood to fire a warning shot at his feet making the man step back.

“Fuck what batman wants, this is my territory and I don’t let anyone hurt kids. Meta or not,” He snarled.

Danny heard the sound of one of the blasters charging up and gasped, looking up frantically. “Look out,” He yelled, lunging forward just in time to accidentally take the blast to the side instead, well he had meant to push hood out of the way but this worked too he supposed. He didn’t even have enough air to scream, whining through gritted teeth as he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself and shielding his head as the air around him was filled with the sound of gun shots. It felt like forever that he lay there curled in on himself defensively as his head swam and blood and ectoplasm seeped out the new hole in his side, joining the dozens of other injuries he had.

Then it was quiet, and after another second there was a hand on his shoulder, Danny flinched violently away from the touch. “Hey kid, it’s just me,” the robotic voice assured and in that moment Danny had never found anything more comforting. He looked up and around, seeing that he and the man in the red hood were the only things left alive in that alley.

Danny gasped and nearly threw himself into the older man’s arms, he gave a startled sound but caught Danny as he trembled and clung, tears running down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. “It’s alright kid, I’ve got you,” Red assured, shifting his hold on Danny so he could pick up the teenager when he stood. “Let’s get you to a hospital huh?” He asked, only for Danny to choke and frantically shake his head. “Alright, no hospital, will you let me patch you up then?” He asked, nodding firmly when Danny sniffled and nodded as well.

“Alright, I have a safe house near here,” He said, turning away from the small pile of bodies he’d left in the alley and carrying Danny towards, hopefully somewhere safe. The way that Gotham curled protectively around them seemed to say it would be. “I’m Red Hood, what’re you called kid?”

“Danny Phantom,” The kid whispered against Jason’s chest.

“That’s an odd name,” Hood said blandly and Danny might have laughed if he had the breath, if it wouldn’t have hurt to much to do so.

“So is Red Hood. I had another name, but I can’t use it anymore,” he murmured brokenly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason asked, and only received a little shrug in return. “Alright fair enough,” Jason said with a shrug, shifting to hold Danny with one arm so he could jump up and drag down the fire escape, climbing up so he could duck through the window of one of his many apartments scattered through his territory.

He carried Danny through into the bathroom, putting him down on the edge of the tub carefully before flipping on the light. “You up to having a shower before I look after your wounds, just to rinse off the blood? I’ll grab you some clean clothes, my little brother left some stuff here that should fit you.”

“Sure,” Danny agreed softly. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I’m pretty damn tough. But, before that could you.. try and take these off please?” He asked, holding out his arms to show Hood the cuffs still around his wrists, the suppressors. There had been a chain between them but it was broken, he’d managed to snap it during the chase.

“You’re not going to cause any problems for me or my city are you? I know suppressors when I see them,” Jason asked, low and dangerous. Danny’s eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously, slowly pulling his arms back and hugging himself.

“No, I know what they said, but I’m not actually dangerous I promise. I mean I probably could be dangerous if I wanted to be, but I don’t, I’ve only ever wanted to protect people but they-, they just didn’t see that.”

Shit the kid was crying again, Jason hadn’t meant to do that, but he had needed to know and Danny’s answer was obviously true, kid wore his heart on his sleeve. Jason sighed and dug in his pocket for his lockpicks before holding out his hand for Danny’s. “Alright, I believe you, let me get those off for you,” He agreed.

Danny reluctantly let Jason take one of his wrists, watching as Jason struggled a little with the cuff, muttering a little about paranoid people. The second one was faster, Danny rubbed his wrist and murmured thanks. “No worries,” Jason said as he stood. “Now you shower, I’m going to grab you some clean clothes.

Danny watched Hood leave, taking the cuffs with him before quickly stripping off the bloody clothes and getting into the shower. He flushed out the worst wounds before icing them over and scrubbing the blood and filth off of him from weeks of imprisonment. Jason knocked to make sure he was alright a couple of times before Danny finished and got out, wrapping a towel around his waist and sitting back down on the edge of the tub. “Alright, you can come in. You don’t have to worry about the cuts really though, I’ll heal.”

Jason let himself in, pausing for a moment when he saw the ice, or maybe the extent of Danny’s wounds which were… well they were pretty damn bad. At least they hadn’t gotten around to fully vivisecting him yet. “Whether you’ll heal or not you’ll heal faster and with less scarring with some proper stitches. Can you melt the ice as well?” Hood asked and Danny nodded. “Good, you can melt it as we deal with them then. Do you want a painkiller first?”

“No point, they don’t work properly on me,” Danny said with a shrug making Jason wince.

“That must suck,” He sympathized as he got out the first aid kit and set up what he’d need to clean and suture the wounds. Danny shrugged again, he didn’t seem talkative but he was very cooperative as Jason asked him to melt the ice on various wounds to let him check them.

“So did those guys do all this to you?” Jason asked and Danny blinked at him.

“You don’t know about them?” He asked, already knowing the answer when Red hood gave him a pointed look Danny could sense even through that helmet.

“Nooo,” he drawled, “Should I?”

“They’re a government agency called the Ghost Investigation Ward,” Danny told him softly. Jason snorted only to realize Danny was completely serious. “They’ve been hunting anything with a high enough ecto-signiture for years, so you need to be careful Red. Gotham is hiding you, but especially after they see how they helped me they’ll be after you too.”

“Ecto-signiture?” Jason asked blankly, what the Fuck was that?

“Anything like us. People who died, and didn’t come back, or came back wrong,” Danny explained and Jason let out a soft startled sound.

“How the fuck did you know that?!” he asked, defensive on instinct, only calming down a little when Danny lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Like often recognizes like,” Danny said with a little shrug again.

“Fine,” Jason grumbled, letting it go for now rather then thinking anymore about his own death, or Danny’s for that matter, the kid didn’t look any older then Jason had been when he had died, younger maybe. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Danny said, sounding relieved. Grabbing the clothes that Jason had brought for him since they were done looking after his wounds now. “Those idiots wouldn’t believe I actually needed to eat no matter how many times I told them I did. They just punished me for pretending to be human,” Danny said making Jason freeze as rage flared inside him, breathing through the green flickering on the edges of his vision as he thought about how Danny had been treated. “Hood,” Danny said softly, and Jason felt a hand on the vigilantes arm.

Danny started to hum, an odd purring sound that didn’t sound particularly human, and to Jason’s surprise after a moment something within Jason started to resonate to the sound. Jason calmed quickly as the place reverberating inside him sent waves of calm the way the pit usually radiated rage. “Okay now?” Danny asked with a smile and Jason nodded, blinking out of the slight daze before he cleared his throat and turned away abruptly, heading to the kitchen to start cooking, Danny following him like a silent shadow, his feet not making any sound on the floor.

“You just lay down on the couch and rest, any allergies?” Jason glanced over and Danny shook his head, Jason nodded, made a choice and took off his helmet, glad he’d warn a mask under it tonight. He wouldn’t exactly be able to taste the food or eat with the mask on after all, and he had a feeling that he was going to be spending more time with Danny, at least until he was healed.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” He asked, just to confirm his thoughts. He decided to make omelettes since they were quick and it was fun to have breakfast for dinner sometimes.

“No, my sister doesn’t have a place of her own, and my parents would either sell me back to the GIW or dissect me themselves. I can look after myself though, now that you’ve got the cuffs off and the GIW off my tail I can avoid them from here. Something to eat and a little sleep and I can be gone by morning,” he said with a determined set to his jaw.

“Absolutely not!” Jason said, pointing the spatula at Danny and lowering it quickly when the boy flinched. “I’m not leaving a kid alone on the streets, let along one who’s not from Gotham! You’ll stay with me till we find you somewhere else safe to go,” Jason said firmly and Danny hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Okay, but once I’m healed I can help! You’re one of Gotham’s vigilantes right? I’ll fight with you.”

“Also no, I’m a vigilante but I’m no Batman, I don’t do kid-heroes, you’re to young for this life,” Hood insisted, flipping the eggs.

“You’re about two years to late for that,” Danny snorted and Jason nearly dropped the food, cursing softly when he messed up the omelette. Oh well it would still taste good it just looked a bit more ugly.

“Excuse me? How old are you?”

“I’ll be 16 in a bit more then a month,” Danny said sounding sulky. “And I’m not going to stop helping people no matter what you think. I have these powers, I want to use it for something good.”

“You’ve been acting as a hero on your own since 14!?” Jason demanded, and the look of shame on Danny’s face was all the answer Jason needed. “Fine, you can come with me. But you have to hang back, stay safe, and fucking listen to me. Got it? I’m not having your death on my conscious!” Jason insisted and tried not to be pleased by how Danny immediately brightened and grinned at him.

“Thank you! It’s going to be so nice not to have to do all this alone! To have a proper mentor, maybe?” He asked, getting softer and more uncertain at the end.

“Sure, sure. The bats are gonna have a heart attack when they find out. They’re probably going to try to steal you,” Jason joked and Danny snorted.

“I don’t want that, they’re too goody goody for me thanks. Besides, you’re like me and I was able to calm you down wasn’t I? I can help you more,” Danny said, and Jason decided not to suggest Danny might be better off with the bats. Maybe it was selfish, but he did want the help Danny offered, and he was already attached to the kid.

“Fine, but you’re not going anywhere until you’re completely healed, and you’ve showed me what you can do. We’ll practice together and once I think we’re a good enough team then you can come out with me. And I want to know everything you know about the GIW and whatever laws enable them to get away with this bullshit, because we’re going to have to do something about that too.”

“Of course!” Danny agreed and Jason could see him practically vibrating with excitement, he had to suppress a smile so Danny wouldn’t catch on to how cute Jason found that. He really shouldn’t, but it was to late now.

“Good. Now come eat,” Jason grumbled, transferring the first omelet onto a plate and handing it to Danny.

Part 2: here

#jason todd #danny phantom #Jason becomes a dad #dc x dp #the GIW #Red Hood #Danny Fenton #tw violence #this isn't edited #might edit and post on AO3 later

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luveline · 2 years

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I don’t have a specific scenario in mind- but please give us some more Steve X Shy reader, I’m living for them!

hi I hope this was a request because I took it as one <3. Steve trying to comfort you when you worry his friends don't like you 🥺

Steve finds you outside, sitting on the edge of the hood of his car, picking at your nails. You must not see him approaching — he steps down onto the gravel driveway and you flinch hard.

You’re relieved to see it’s him. “Oh, Stevie.”

He dislikes and loves the nickname. Stevie sounds like someone’s great aunt, but it’s you saying it.

He lets it slide.

“What are you doing out here?”

You flatten your hands over your thighs looking as high strung as he’s ever seen you, taking noticeably shallow breaths. “It’s so…” you scratch at your denim jeans. “It’s so loud in there. Right?”

“Right,” he agrees quickly, the car bouncing beneath you as he sits by your side, close enough to feel the heat coming off of your arm and thigh but not quite touching.

“I don’t…” again, picking at your nails. Your shoulders are slumped forward, dejected.

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t think any of your friends like me.”

“Of course they do,” Steve says. Doesn’t miss a beat.

He doesn’t know if he’s being truthful. Certainly none of his friends dislike you; they’ve got no reason to. Steve thinks you’re perfectly pretty and charming, soft-spoken maybe, but striking in what you do say. Big-hearted.

You get meaner, scratching at your cuticles, pushing them back with the pad of your thumb over and over. Steve cringes at the sight.

You turn to him abruptly, sounding acutely miserable. “Why is this so hard?” you ask.

Somebody knocks something in the house and you flinch for the second time. Steve nudges his knee into yours, thinking of what to say. Thinking, if they like me then they’ll like you, because you’re twice the person that I am. But saying something that earnest aloud is hard not because you don’t deserve to hear it but because Steve doesn’t know how to do that, how to comfort someone, not properly.

You’re the first person besides these damn kids and Robin to show him a silver of tenderness. He doesn’t want it to go unpaid.

He tries not to overthink it as he takes your hands into his. He pries them apart gently, soothing your sore skin before tucking them into his lap. You flex your fingers under his but don’t pull away.

“God, you’re cold,” he says, bringing them to his lips. He blows on your hands, once, twice, rubbing your knuckles with his thumbs in tandem.

Your shoulders relax. Steve can’t help cataloguing your hands, your wrinkles, your veins and divots. The fine hairs at your wrists, shining in the porch light. He realises his distraction and covers your hands with his completely to stop from ogling.

“Does it matter to you? That they like you?” he asks.

“Of course it does. They’re your friends.”

“Right, but if they weren’t.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it matters to me. I want people to like me,” you say, voice small.

He can’t understand why his chest hurts. Why his heart is pounding.

“I like you,” he says.

“I know,” you murmur.

Steve purses his lips, feeling like this is a puzzle he can’t solve. And frankly, it’s a little ridiculous, not your feelings but the idea that you’re worrying about it. “Why wouldn’t they like you?” he asks, genuinely not understanding.

Your hand twitches against his thigh. You shudder. He doesn’t think it’s from the cold. “I can barely speak to them.”

It clicks, then. You’re upset because you’re shy. There’s no point denying it, and he wouldn’t. Steve likes you exactly how you are, though preferably with less scratches on your poor hands.

“Baby, they speak enough for themselves. They’re self-contained. Like an agar plate. Or a warm yogurt.”

You snort and the sound is like a lifesaver being thrown to sea. Steve swims for it. “They’re like if you put a few parrots in a cage with a Teddy Ruxpin bear. Just, repeating each other until the words lose all meaning.”

“That’s mean,” you say through giggles, not sounding very stern.

“My point,” he says, squeezing your hands lightly, “is that they don’t need you to speak up. Not unless you want to. God knows there isn’t a room where silence and Dustin Henderson both exist.”

“I don’t want them to think I’m a priss.”

“None of them think that.”

You steal one of your hands back to fix your hair. Steve allows it grudgingly, leaning back on the hood, one hand braced behind him. The other he pulls to his chest, your joined hands over his heart.

“Max likes you,” he says.

You look at him with too much hope. He needs to have a talk with you about self-worth.

“You think so?” you ask quietly.

“Definitely.”

You shuffle closer to him until your shoulders are wedged together and the two of you look away from the living room window, alight with the TV colours, and up. The sky is dark. Steve can’t see any stars, though he looks.

Your head falls on top of his shoulder.

“Can you see any?” you ask.

He looks down at your face, finally serene, your eyes bright and shining, then back up at the sky. Corny, cheesy, rom-com style, he thinks, yeah, I can see one.

“Nah,” he says. “Fucking pollution.”

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington one shot

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confused-wanderer · 26 days

Text

TW: mentions of touch-starvation, brief mention of thoughts of suicide (just one line, nobody actually dies)

Hug me

Cass was new. New to life, new to everything. But she was fluent in the langue of the body, and could always hear it whispering away their secrets to anyone that could hear them. And that was only Cass.

Now she’s in front of a child whose posture screams for comfort, on the verge of a breakdown. It screams for warmth. It screams two words:

HUG ME

Cass doesn’t move - simply stares at him from a distance, watching and waiting. But then Steph is behind her, and nudges Cass aside before crouching in front of the child and opening her arms up. The child shrinks, flinching and folding into himself with choked sobs, and Cass listens to Steph kindly asking the kid for permission to let her in, telling him he’ll be safe and warm and she’ll listen to him. She tells him he’ll be safe, and whispers to his heart to trust her.

Cass watches this all happen without a single word being spoken. Afterwards, Steph asks Cass why she didn’t do anything. Cass can hear the question that she never says though:

You’ve stayed with us, you’ve seen our family comfort people in distress, and you know this kid needed it. So why didn’t you do anything?

Unfortunately, Steph couldn’t notice the silent question Cass is begging her to answer.

Why was this kid different from their family?

The family where Nightwing tries to hide by hugging himself, fingers closing around whatever he was sitting on to prevent himself from launching himself at a family member. How Jason refuses to be close to them, because every step he takes towards them Cass can hear him screaming that he desperately wants a hug. That he wants someone to offer, and he wants them to hug him even when he half-heartedly threatens to shoot them if they don’t let go. Cass is convinced he’d then turn the trigger onto himself if they did.

The way Bruce suddenly curls in on himself like a child, arms tightening around each other in a desperate attempt to console himself. And Tim does the same. As does Damian. As does Stephanie, as does Barbara, and the list goes on and on. They were all in pain too. But nobody ever did anything, and Cass thought that that was how you dealt with pain.

But the longer Stephanie tries to explain to her how one must help those in pain, the longer she sees Nightwing refuse to leave a single family member struggling if he notices, the longer she sees Jason spend nights in alleys so the kids can rest easy knowing they’re safe, the longer she sees Tim hesitantly stay with a teen so she won’t be alone, or Damian always making sure all the strays he’s collected never have a wound untreated, she realises something that sends a chill down her spine.

Her family was eerily good with words. With languages they’d been taught over the years. But they still did not know each other’s language of pain. They weren’t ignorant, Cass realises. They were deaf.

And so nobody could ever hear each other’s heart break. Nobody could hear the deafening noise of each other’s body chattering from the coldness of loneliness.

Nobody, except Cass.

#batman #nightwing #dick grayson #red hood #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam #headcanons #batfam angst #cassandra cain #orphan #stephanie brown #spoiler #robin #batfam angst headcanon

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raineandsky · 5 months

Text

#78

(part 1) (part 2)

tw: blood

The first thing the hero notices when they wake up is the agonising flare of pain in their side. It needles at their breaths, burning like there’s a naked flame jammed under their skin. Fucking hell, it can barely wait until they’re conscious.

Something of a pained whine pulls out from their throat before they can stop it. A hand drifts testily to their side to try and assess the damage–what caused it? How bad is it? Can they get back to the agency?—but a gentle hand over theirs stops them.

“Don’t touch it,” someone says, their voice luxuriously soft. “You don’t want to make it worse.”

The hero bursts upright—or tries to. The pain is excruciating before they’re even halfway up. Their breath falls out in agonised tatters, their hand instinctively clamped over the burn like it’ll help. The person next to them just sighs defeatedly.

The hero finally lets their gaze fall on the other person here. A tight black shirt, a mess of untidy hair on his head and the shadow of a beard scratching at his face. Sweet, deep brown eyes, watching, the ghost of a kind smile on his lips.

They’ve seen this man before. In the background, waiting in the shadows of the villain’s brash schemes. A small piece of something always bigger than him. Of everyone the hero has ever expected to look out for them in a moment like this, the person they expected the least was the villain’s henchman.

“I’ll need to change the bandage soon,” the henchman says casually. “I was kinda betting on you staying asleep until I’d done it.”

The hero can only stare at them for a moment, bewildered, before they turn their eyes down to the blood tearing across the bandage on their midriff. The bandage itself is huge, the crimson carving a near-perfect straight line through its centre. It does look three seconds away from giving the hero a nasty infection.

They turn their attention back up as the henchman goes about unravelling a roll of bandage, a pleasant, humming tune leaking from his mouth. Baffled doesn’t come close to the emotion wringing knots in the hero’s chest.

“You were there,” is all the hero can think to say. The henchman nods, the movement almost thoughtless.

“I was.” The bandage is cut with a swift flick of scissors. “[Villain]’s been developing some new weapons. Never seen you go down so hard, jeez.”

The hero watches as the henchman tips some labelless bottle over the fabric. “And now you’re…” The hero trails off, taking in the homely room around them for a clue. “… looking for ransom?”

Something of an unintentional snort bubbles out of the henchman. “Nah. I’m kinda… going against [Villain] by doing this.”

He shuffles his chair forwards to examine the well of blood on the hero’s side. It’s oddly intimate, being stared at this closely. He reaches a hand out to brush a hand against the bandage and the hero flinches in memory of the pain they already caused themself by waking up, but the henchman’s touch is delicate. His fingers leave trails of comfortable warmth in their wake.

“I’ve seen how you work. What you do,” he continues into the silence. His voice is low, like he’s admitting a secret. “It’s admirable. It’s why I felt inclined to help you.”

“And you’re saying this when you’re working with villains?”

Another short laugh springs out of the henchman’s mouth. “I know. I still stand by them—don’t arrest me for saying that—but… I don’t know. There’s something about you.”

“Maybe it’s my irresistible charm,” the hero suggests with exactly zero charm, and the henchman throws them a lopsided grin before ducking his head back down to his work.

Replacing the bandage is easy enough. The henchman’s touch is soft, flinching back at the smallest sign of pain. The pain is barely tolerable anyway, obviously—god, it fucking sucks—but… it’s nice. Being allowed to be in pain, and being allowed to rest when it hurts. Getting injured and not being expected to get back up. Having someone strive to make it hurt less.

The new bandage is cool against the burning agony in the hero’s side, and they sigh contentedly as the henchman carefully presses it against them. “You’ll need to stay a few days,” the henchman says with something of an apologetic grimace. “I don’t know what the rules are for your agency, but you can’t walk through the city like this looking like that.”

The hero glances down at the tatters of their hero’s uniform. If civilians in the city saw them like this, they might panic, might assume the worst, and then…

“Do you have any spare clothes?” they ask hopefully, and the henchman’s remorse slips into exasperation.

“I think you only heard half of that sentence.” He scrunches the old bandage up in his hands, like it’s nothing more than a paper ball he’s going to throw at his teacher. “You look terrible because you are terrible. You need some time to rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is the agency going to give you time to heal?”

The hero opens their mouth to retort—of course they will, they look out for us—but they close it immediately. They know that’s not true. The agency would barely let them in the front doors before turning them back out on a mission, bloodstains and all.

They haven’t said a word, but the henchman’s face breaks into an annoyingly smug smirk regardless. “Stay,” he demands as he gets to his feet, “for your own sake.”

He lets himself out with the promise that he’ll be back to change the bandages in a couple of hours. Make yourself at home, but only in bed, because the more you stand up the longer it’ll take to heal and the longer I’ll force you to stay here.

The hero adjusts against the pillows, hissing slightly at the twinge the movement jabs into their side. They don’t mind, honestly. They’re not entirely sure the henchman would have to force them to stay at all.

(next part)

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x henchman

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ghostboybrainrot · 1 year

Text

Out of Touch Part 2

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, AO3

Edit: I'm starting the process of transferring these to AO3. Click the link above to subscribe and get updates more reliably! (But don't worry I'll keep posting on Tumblr, too)

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It’s odd being invisible to the living world. Danny doesn’t have to put on a performance. He doesn’t have to awkwardly smile at strangers. He doesn’t have to monitor his facial expressions to make other people feel more comfortable. In a way it's nice. Freeing, even.

He didn't have to worry about people misconstruing his actions or his words. Assuming he had ulterior motives. Looking at him like he was weird for asking clarifying questions.

He wasn't judged for asking someone to explain a joke. He wasn't called rude and self-centered for sharing a similar experience when a friend was venting about their problems. He wanted to understand. He wanted to connect. But it felt like the way he did it was always wrong.

He'd been lucky to find friends who understood him. Who shared in his idiosyncrasies.

He didn't have that anymore, but at least he didn't have to pretend either. It was a small victory, but he still counted it

Of course, his invisibility didn't affect the dead. They could see him just fine. And many do not like what they see. His ghost form had been shifting. He hadn’t made change consciously.

When he looked at himself he saw something sharper, something darker than he used to be. He wasn't happy about it but he didn't feel the need to dwell. This was who he was now. He didn't have any control over it.

If the other spirits he came across flinched away from him, he tried not to let it bother him. Spirits were just people. And he could deal with people.

Fortunately, most ghosts were too distracted by their own problems to pay him much mind. The shades floated around usually tethered to a specific location, sometimes a specific person. They interacted with things that were not there. They carried on conversations with themselves. If Danny attempted to talk to them, they would respond. He’d even held a decent conversation with a couple. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t seeing the same things he was. That their reality was much different than his. Once he’d finished talking, they’d continue about their business as though he wasn’t ever there.

)-(

Danny had settled in an abandoned apartment near Park Row, or Crime Alley, as the locals called it. The building was only 3 stories. It had been condemned but had never gotten around to being torn down. It's not property investors were going to want to build something in it's place. Not in Crime Alley.

The bottom floor had been boarded up at one point but the boards on the back entrance had long since been pried off. Several squatters had made the bottom floor their temporary home. If they heard odd noises coming from the upper floor they ignored it.

Once, a man had come to the top floor to look around. He stepped carefully, testing his weight on the unstable floor. He checked the empty apartments. They’d long since been picked clean. When he neared the door at the end of the hall a chill shot up his spine. This door was closed, unlike the other three which had been swinging ajar before he’d arrived. Was someone already squatting in there? No one had mentioned it to him. He’d stayed here a few times now. Surely, if someone had already claimed the room, he’d have heard about it. He continued to approach the door. The cold sensation was worse the closer he got. He started shivering slightly and he could see his breath misting in front of him.

Weird. He swore it hadn’t been this cold outside earlier. How could it be so cold INSIDE. Maybe a window had been left open? That would explain why this door was closed. The wind had probably blown it shut. It had to be empty. No one would be able to stay in these freezing temperatures.

If nothing else he should go and close the window. Wouldn’t want a draft to follow him downstairs. They needed to conserve the heat the best they could.

He grasped the door knob. For a moment he worried his hand would stick to it. It was like holding a ball of ice. He attempted to turn it. Locked.

He wasn’t sure why but he let go of the handle and raised his hand to knock on the door. Three short raps echoed in the empty hall. For a moment there was silence.

Then. Three short raps answered from the other side of the door.

He jumped back. Okay, someone was in there after all. Weirdo. Who the hell locked themselves in an abandoned freezing apartment. Before he could decide whether to tell this person off or just mind his business, he heard it again.

Three more knocks. These were much louder.

Suddenly there was a steady pounding on the door. It rattled from the impacts. The man’s heart leapt in his throat. He’d had enough. He started making his way back to the stairs. The pounding hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had gotten even louder. And closer! It was following him! It was coming from the walls in the hallway now. He could hear it coming from the other empty apartments. Everything was pounding. The whole building seemed to be shaking. He didn’t remember bolting but next thing he knew he was running down the stairs. Not paying attention to the cracks in the floor, as he had on the way up. He took 2 steps at a time. By the time he reached the bottom, the onslaught of sound had stopped.

At first he didn't notice. He could still feel the pounding. It felt like the banging was coming from inside his head. It took him a moment to notice it was his own heartbeat hammering in his ears.

He spent several minutes at the bottom of the stairs, hands on his knees gasping for breath. After his heart finally slowed and his breath came easier, he went back to the room where he'd placed his sleeping bag.

He thought about packing it up. This place no longer felt safe. What if whatever it was followed him?

He glanced at the door that led to the stairwell. If it were going to follow him it already would have. It was already late and this wasn't the first time he'd crashed here. And something told him, whatever it was, hadn't just arrived. He swallowed nervously. It had probably been above him this whole time.

He looked back down at his sleeping bag. He'd paused partway through rolling it up. Lost in thought. Finally, he decided to stay. At least for the night. He rolled it back out and got ready to get some rest. He was exhausted. The adrenaline from only 10 minutes prior had fled his system. Leaving his muscles weak and his brain foggy.

He wasn't going to be able to find a safer place this late. There were worse things than ghosts haunting the streets of Gotham at night.

If his upstairs neighbor didn’t want to be bothered. He just wouldn’t bother them.

—-

Danny felt a little guilty for scaring the guy. In the moment it had been exhilarating. Like playing a prank. After all, he had no intention of ACTUALLY harming him. He wasn't in danger. He just didn't want the guy poking his nose around his stuff.

But of course the man had no way of knowing Danny wasn't a threat. It wasn’t like Danny was going to jump out and yell 'Gotcha!' In fact, that probably would just scare the guy even more.

Danny looked down at his hands. They were clouds of black smoke. The edges were fuzzy and undefined. His fingers were long and came to sharp points.

Scary, he thought.

Before he could linger too long on that uncomfortable thought, Danny decided to make it up to the guy.

It took a while for the man to fall asleep, unsurprisingly. But Danny waited patiently.

)-(

When the man woke up the next day he found a few cans of soup, some clean socks, and a small pack of baby wipes. It had been stacked neatly next to his backpack. Clearly, it had been left for him. He looked around but no one else had come to join him in the night and the door to the room was still locked.

He didn’t mention the interaction to anyone. And none of the other squatters mentioned it either. He knew they had to have heard it. The pounding that shook the building. He knew he hadn’t imagined it. Even if he had, it didn’t explain the food left in a locked room in the middle of the night.

He decided whatever this entity was. It wasn’t kicking him out. Just expressing a boundary. He could handle that. As long as he left the apartment upstairs alone, he should be fine.

Hopefully.

)-(

Danny hoped the guy would see the gifts as an olive branch. He thought about leaving a note, but decided against it. It was one thing to insinuate that the building was haunted. It was another thing, entirely, to come right out and say it.

Hey I'm the ghost that haunts the upper floors! Sorry to give you a fright. Here's some food as an apology just stay out of my area, okay?

Thanks!

He smiled at the thought. It'd be funny but l would just bring more attention to him. The last thing he needed was other people finding his haunt. A note was tangible. The guy could show others. More people would want to investigate. Without any concrete proof, people were less likely to believe him.

Danny did not want to have to move, especially when he had just gotten settled.

He’d just gotten running water. It had taken a lot of time and effort but he'd finally figured out how to turn the water back on.. He'd had to phase through a lot of walls holding a flashlight in his teeth. It had taken a week of following pipes around and messing with valves, but he’d done it! Granted, when he first got it, it still went out randomly and it wasn't hot or even warm. But it was a start.

Now getting electricity, that had been much harder. He wasn't an electrical engineer. He felt uncomfortable with the idea of trying to mess with high voltage wires. Getting electrocuted again, scared him more than he'd ever admit, even to himself.

Eventually, he settled for a small generator. He'd pilfered it from a big chain farming supply shop several miles outside of Gotham. It was a pain lugging it all the way back. It wasn’t that he was too weak to carry it, but it had been very awkward to hold.

He set it up on the roof above his apartment. Feeding the wire down into the apartments poking holes through walls. It didn’t look professional but it worked.

The best part was that he’d gotten a model powerful enough to run the old hot water heater.

Danny hadn't taken a hot bath in months. The closest he got was taking quick showers in the 24 hour gym down the street. He'd go in the middle of the night after patrol when no one was around. But he tried not to linger in case someone decided to do an early morning workout. Those showers were more functional than relaxing.

He didn't need to bathe that often, anyway. He spent more time in his ghost form than his living form and he didn't sweat when he was dead. He'd been getting by on baby wipes and paper towel baths at the sink in public restrooms.

So, when he finally had an opportunity to have a real bath. He decided to treat himself.

He lit a couple tealight candles and set them on the counter. He turned out the lights. The bath/shower combo wasn't very deep but fortunately Danny wasn't a very tall teenager. For the first time he counted himself lucky that dying had stunted his growth.

He had swiped a bath bomb from a dollar store a few blocks away. He'd never used one before but he figured he should at least try one to get the full relaxing bath experience. He drew himself a warm bath and dropped the lavender-scented bomb into it.

As soon as he sunk into the water he immediately felt himself start to drift. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this relaxed. He closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes.

)-(

Danny was having a bad night.

Nights? He wasn’t sure.

He’d gotten carried away again. He felt that familiar tug at his stomach. He wasn’t sure for how long. He knew he needed to stop. To take a break. At least grab a drink or something to eat. But he knew if he stopped, if he switched forms, he'd be too exhausted to switch back.

He just kept telling himself one more. Just one more person to save. Just one more person to stop. And then he would rest.

As he neared his apartment he felt his form stutter.

Oh no.

Just a little bit farther. He could still make it! The form continued to stutter. He felt gravity pulling on him. He couldn't keep flying like this.

He looked for a place he could land. There was an empty alley below him. Only 50 feet or so ahead. He angled his descent. But he was falling too fast. His ghost form continued to flicker, petering out 20 feet above the ground. He plummeted, reaching out trying to find purchase on the side of the building. Only managing to scrape his palm. He hit the ground on his side, with a soft thud.

He groaned. He had definitely broken something. His earlier exhaustion had been replaced with sheer terror as he'd fallen. This was the only thing allowing him the energy to push up off the pavement. He sat in the alley wincing with every movement. He took inventory. His shoulder was bruised as hell. He'd, also, bruised his ribs, breaking at least one. He was lucky he was so resilient. Falling from that height would have been much worse if he wasn't already half-dead.

He tried to pull himself to his feet. His leg buckled under the weight and he fell back on his backside. He'd definitely messed up his knee. He reached down to palpate around the joint. It was tender and he could already tell it was starting to swell.

Great.

He pulled himself up again favoring the side that hadn't impacted the ground. He braced himself against the wall of the building. His vision swam. He realized it probably had more to do with the fact that his blood sugar was dangerously low than his injuries.

After a couple minutes, his vision began to clear and he could take in his surroundings.

Good news, he knew where he was. He was close to his apartment. Bad news, his apartment was in crime alley. And he had a couple blocks and two flights of stairs before he could get to it.

Danny did not like his chances of getting there unscathed. Normally, it wouldn't be a problem. He could just switch to ghost form and fly straight there. But seeing as how he'd already been doing that, and he'd fallen from the sky. He didn't think this was going to be an option.

He tried anyway. Focusing hard on fading into his phantasmal form. He felt the barest hint of a flicker but no transformation came.

Figures.

The adrenaline from the fall had worn off, at this point. He was feeling woozy again. His exhaustion and hunger hitting him full force.

The ground next to a nearby dumpster started to look very enticing. His eyes were drooping. He had enough awareness left to know if he was going to pass out he needed to hide.

It wasn't the first time he'd had to take an impromptu nap in an alley. Usually, he found a cozy dumpster to crawl in to sleep it off. Bit his leg was too injured and he was too weak to pull himself up.

Behind the dumpster would have to do.

He kept his hand against the wall as he stumbled forward, ignoring the pain in his palm from the scrape, he'd suffered during the fall. He wondered, dully, if it was a bad idea to be rubbing an open wound on a grimey building. Probably not, but he'd have to worry about that later.

He felt like he was moving through molasses. As he rounded the side of the dumpster he looked back, making sure no one was watching. Satisfied he was alone, he tucked himself into the corner behind it. He was already pretty small. It didn't take much to pull his hood over his head and pull his knees to his chest. He pulled a few loose pieces of plastic and cardboard over him. With that and his grimey clothes he was pretty sure it would be hard to spot him. At least, in the dark.

Certain this was as good as it was going to get, he closed his eyes and fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

He hadn't noticed the figure in the dark when he'd fallen. He hadn't noticed its eyes watching him as he pulled himself up and limped toward the dumpster. And, he didn't notice as the figure approached the sleeping boy.

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Sorry to anyone who was waiting for me to update my Ghost Zone Amity fic! This one was making my brain itch so this is the one you get.

I love getting comments! Keep them coming. Who do you think found Danny? Is it one of the bats? Is it a rogue? Let me know what you think so far!

Tags:

@alinmenttreasure @quirky-gardener @mnemovoid @amercurio @may-rbi

@allmune @i-havenothingelsetopost @kittenline @alienzil

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beestriker015 · 4 months

Text

Mikan x loving and protective male s/o

(Non-killing game AU)

This poor girl has been abused and mistreated basically her whole life, so she was in for a big surprise when she went to Hope’s Peak and met someone who actually treated her with kindness.

“Hello! My name is s/o. Are you new here too?”

“Y-yes I am. M-my name is M-Mikan Tsumiki. I-it’s n-nice to m-meet you.”

The young man is slightly taken aback by her stuttering and timid response, but smiles at her warmly nonetheless.

“Nice to meet you too Mikan. I hope we can become friends.”

“F-friends? With me?”

Mikan mutters to herself and begins shaking a little, much to s/o’s concern.

“H-hey! Are you ok Mikan?!”

“P-please, if you’re going to h-hurt me, just d-do it quickly.”

The girl says in a quiet voice while looking like she’s ready to burst into tears any second now.

“Hurt you? Why would I do that? Calm down Mikan, I have absolutely no intention of hurting you.”

S/o tells her in a voice that makes Mikan relax a little.

“Y-you’re not?”

“No. Why would you think I would?”

She doesn’t answer and just hugs s/o for comfort.

“What has this girl been through to act like this?”

He thinks to himself before comforting the fragile girl, thus kicking off their friendship.

As time passed, s/o and Mikan grew closer and closer, leading to the development of feelings between the two.

Early on in their friendship, Mikan confided in s/o everything she’s been through, much to his shock and horror.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry you had to go through that Mikan!

He wraps his arms around her in a warm embrace, causing her to flinch a bit before relaxing into it.

“I-it’s alright s/o, I deserved to be treated that way.”

S/o breaks their embrace and gives Mikan a slightly stern look, while also being careful not to accidentally scare her.

“No you didn’t. Mikan, no one deserves to be treated the way you were, and as long as I’m around, you will never be treated like that again. I promise.”

“T-thank you s/o.”

Being a man of his word, s/o stayed true to his promise and protected his friend from her bullies (especially Hiyoko).

“Ew! Why is the pig here?!”

Hiyoko exclaims and points at Mikan, who tries stuttering out a response but can’t.

Luckily for her, s/o swoops in and proceeds to defend her.

“I asked her to come here with me. Do you have a problem with that Hiyoko? If not, keep your fat mouth shut and mind your own business.”

Hiyoko quickly runs away wailing as s/o gives Mikan a smile that she absolutely loves.

“God I hate that girl so much. Mahiru should really keep her on a tighter leash.”

“T-thank you for defending me s/o.”

“Of course! I promised you I wouldn’t let people treat you like that anymore didn’t I? I love you Mikan.”

S/o’s eyes widen as he realizes he unintentionally confessed his feelings as Milan’s face turns deep red with a blush.

“Y-you l-love me s/o?”

“Honestly? Yes, I do. Sometime after we became friends, I developed feelings for you that never went away. If you don’t feel the same, we can still be friends like we are now.”

“I d-don’t want to just be friends with you anymore s/o, because I love you too.”

She tells him with a shy smile before giving him a small kiss on the lips, making both of them blush.

As a couple, not much really changed from when they were only friends, except a little more cuddling and saying I love you to each other.

When it comes to giving and receiving attention, Mikan is still a bit reluctant due to her past, which s/o completely understands and respects.

It goes without saying that Mikan is incredibly touch starved despite being so sensitive to physical touch, but when it comes to her boyfriend, she practically turns into a puddle whenever he gives her a hug or some kisses.

(Mikan’s favorite way her boyfriend gives her affection is headpats. She. Loves. Headpats.)

S/o continues to protect and stand up for Mikan, maybe even more now that she is his girlfriend.

Being with s/o has had an immensely positive impact on Mikan as she’s become more assertive and doesn’t stutter like she used to.

“I won’t let you treat me this way anymore Hiyoko, I am tired of you calling me a pig.”

Her newfound self respect catches Hiyoko off guard.

“Y-you didn’t stutter. When did you suddenly grow a spine?! Tired of having your stupid boyfriend stand up for you?”

One thing Mikan absolutely doesn’t tolerate is hearing anyone talk badly of her boyfriend.

“S/o is not stupid! The only stupid one here is you!”

Caught off guard by Mikan yelling at her, Hiyoko runs off with crocodile tears in her eyes.

(If you can’t tell by now, I really do not like Hiyoko.)

Due to her not being overly shy and timid anymore, hardly anyone bullies or mistreats Mikan now, though s/o will still step in to protect her if someone does.

Whenever s/o is sick or needs first aid, his girlfriend the Ultimate Nurse is always ready to take care of him.

“I appreciate you taking care of me babe, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His words always make her heart flutter.

“I can say the same thing about you s/o. Now get some rest and I’ll check in on you later. Sweet dreams my beloved.”

Whenever s/o goes to sleep, it isn’t uncommon for him to wake up to find that his girlfriend had snuck into his room and snuggled up next to him in bed.

“This is too adorable. I don’t understand how anyone could be so cruel and horrible to the most precious girl in the whole wide world.”

S/o says to himself quietly as he gazes lovingly at the sleeping form of his girlfriend, who is laying next to him with a content smile on her face.

“It’s a bit early, so I might as well go back to sleep. I love you Mikan, sweet dreams babe.”

He whispers before kissing her gently on the forehead before lying back down beside her.

“Hahhhhhh…I love you too s/o.”

Mikan says in her sleep and unconsciously begins spooning her boyfriend, much to her embarrassment when she wakes up.

Overall, despite the horrible way she’s been treated in the past, Mikan thinks of herself as the happiest and luckiest girl in the world to be in a relationship with her loving and protective boyfriend.

#danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa x male reader #mikan tsumiki #mikan tsumiki x reader #mikan tsumiki x male reader #sdr2 #danganronpa sdr2 #sdr2 goodbye despair #sdr2 x reader #sdr2 mikan #mikan x reader #male reader #sdr2 x male reader

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breannasfluff · 7 months

Text

Pinned Down

Whump Rating: 4/5 TW: Mainly emotional angst, minor description of blood, being held down, panic AO3 Link

Wild won’t let them near his wing. They can’t move on with his wing dragging on the ground. Yet anytime someone tries to approach, he starts up a warning chatter and shuffles further away.

Time, as flock leader, puffs his wings and gives a strong flock call. “Wild. We just want to help. You’re going to hurt yourself further if you let it keep dragging.” He steps forward, hands up but wings out. He gives another call. Flock leader, obey.

Wild’s ears pin back to his head at the sound. Time never uses the obey signal. He trembles but manages to keep it down to a few shuffling steps as the kite gets closer.

“I’m going to pick up your wing, okay? Just so we can walk over to the clearing and get you looked at properly.” His voice is low and soothing as he approaches.

Wild starts up his chatter again but doesn’t bolt.

“I need to touch your wing to get it off the ground. I’ll do my best not to move it too much, but you are going to get an infection like this.”

The magpie’s chatter kicks up in warning as Time reaches out. He pauses, refluffs his wings, and repeats flock leader, obey. Wild is still edging, ready to bolt. Obey! Submit, hatchling!

Legend flinches and he’s not even the target. Asking for submission is frowned upon in avian society. The call is too instinctual to easily ignore. From a stranger, yes. From a flock leader, no.

Wild wails, but stays put as Time carefully wraps his hands around the dragging wing. Despite how the kite keeps his wings up, showing dominance and flock leadership, the tips tremble and shudder. For a bird who cares deeply for his flock and their happiness, the command hurts him as much as it does Wild.

Time lifts, dipping one wing around to support the secondaries of the dragging wing. Keeping an eye on the bone, he gives a sharp nod. “Over to the clearing. Warriors, lead the way. Twilight, get the others.”

The group scatters and Wild takes a stumbling step, chittering as his broken wing moves. Hyrule gives a calming coo on instinct, but it doesn’t seem to permeate.

Each step away from the battlefield is agonizing and Time has to repeat his obey call twice more to stop Wild from bolting. Finally, they are situated in the middle of a large clearing. Sparse pine trees provide cover, but the ground is mostly dirt. They have the space needed to splint his wing.

“Sit down, Wild.” Time lowers the broken wing in time with the magpie, then lets go and steps back.

Wild crouches and immediately starts up his warning chatter. The other wing flutters and fluffs, trying to compensate.

Warriors—loner that he is—pulls Time into a hug. The kite clings to the captain and he wraps him up in his wings. They are all going to need to show the old man attention and love after a display like that, but Wild comes first.

Four shoves a green potion in Hyrule’s hands and he downs it, standing steadier. His magic alone isn’t enough to heal a broken bone; speeding the healing will over tighten the muscles needed for flight, but he can help.

Legend lets go as Hyrule moves forward. Flockmate, flockmate, here to help, the hearler trills. Safe, care for you, protect. When that doesn’t work, he tilts into a maternal call. Chick, little chick, comfort and help!

Wild chatters at him, unswayed.

“Let me try.” Legend steps forward and lowers his wings until they brush the ground. Help help worry. Hurt flockmate! Then he adds on a descending note. I hurt because you do, it says.

Go away, go away, threat! Wild chatters back. His eyes are blown wide, but they aren’t focusing on the flock’s faces. There’s a haze to them. Whatever trauma this triggered, it’s not a pretty one.

Unfortunately, Legend has a good guess at what it is.

Hyrule tries another coo, then turns to the vet. “This isn’t working. His wing is bleeding and the longer we wait to set the bone, the worse it’s going to get. Do you think Time’s up for another order?”

Legend glances at where their leader is still shrouded in Warriors’ feathers. “I think he’ll do it if we have no choice.”

“I’m not sure we do.” The thrasher turns back to Wild. “I need to check your wing, little chick. Can I come look? I won’t touch it.” Flockmate, love you, he adds with a melodic trill.

Wild’s chattering slows and he drops into a warning hiss. It’s an improvement, so Hyrule moves forward, keeping his hands well away from the broken wing.

“How’s it look?” Legend asks.

“Not great. The bone has torn skin and some of the muscles were cut as well. He’s in a lot of pain, that’s for sure. I’m worried about the bleeding.”

“There’s not that much blood?” True, any amount of red splashed on blue feathers is worrying.

“Exactly. I think it’s bleeding under the skin. It will swell and, worst case, rupture.”

The vet swallows hard, wings shuffling at the notion. Wing injuries are hard to deal with at the best of times. This is definitely not the best.

“So, what do we do now?”

“I’m going to need to splint it in place and make sure the pooled blood is drained. Once we do that, I can use a potion or magic to heal the artery. I can push the bone and muscle a little, but not too far or they will heal stiff. We’re going to be walking for a while.”

The bowerbird brushes the inconvenience away. Wild needs their attention. Hyrule chirps at Wild, but droops when he doesn’t get an answer. He turns back to the other avians. “I’m going to need the raptors to help move his wing into place and hold it steady while I splint it.”

Stepping forward, Legend shakes his head. “He’s not going to like that.”

The healer’s eyes are agonized when they meet his. “I know.”

The flock huddles to one side to go over the plan before breaking apart and heading for Wild. The magpie is still in the same spot, one wing dragging limp on the ground. It looks—wrong. It is wrong.

Legend is on distraction duty as the only other flockmate who might be able to keep Wild calm. Time’s face is set, despite the puffy redness that points to recent crying. He’ll do anything to keep his flock safe, even betray their trust.

Of course, that’s the worst-case scenario. The vet can’t help the bile rising in his throat because the worst-case is likely what they will get.

“Hey, Wild. Hyrule’s going to take another look at your wing. I bet you were really scared when the net caught you.” His job is simply to talk, to provide distraction. The magpie’s eyes snapped to him immediately, despite the haze over them. He’s here—or, more likely, here and trapped in his memories at the same time. Past and present colliding in misery.

“You’re being really brave though, you know that? When I was a chick, I lost a primary jumping out of a tree and oh, you would have thought the world ended for how much I wailed.”

Hyrule huffs softly at the anecdote, carefully reaching for Wild’s wing. Legend keeps talking. If silly stories of him as a chick are what it takes, he’ll provide them.

At first, it’s working. Hyrule pushes feathers aside and uncorks a bottle of water. As soon as he pours it over the wound to clean it, though, Wild’s attention snaps to him.

There’s no warning.

Wild lunges at Hyrule and his other wing snaps out. Legend ducks and the bone whistles over his head. Hyrule squawks and backs up, but he isn’t ready for a sudden attack. The magpie snaps at the arm still reaching for his broken wing and bites. Hard.

Hyrule’s melodic voice should never be forced into that register of pain. Legend snaps at the air and chatters at Wild on instinct, because Hyrule is flock.

Wild lets go of Hyrule’s arm, but only to spin and bolt. The broken wing drags on the ground.

Through gritted teeth, Hyrule yells, “Now!”

Obey! Down! Now! Time’s flock call is so strong it nearly stops Legend before he rushes forward to help the others. Wild snarls and doesn’t follow it.

Submit! Submit submit submit!

That finally stops the magpie, but everyone else is frozen as well. Time hurriedly shifts the identifier. Hatchling submit! Obey! Down! The others start moving, but even then, Wild wavers, on the verge of breaking. Hatchling disobeys! Angry, bad, shameful to flock leader! SUBMIT! The call is half snarl, half screech.

Wild drops to the ground. Sorry sorry sorry! His wails are nothing but cries for forgiveness. Tears stream down his face. Forgive, forgive! comes in broken whimpers.

Time is crying, too. This is not how he leads his flock. But Wild is going to damage his wing irreparably if they don’t fix it. Right now, this is the only thing keeping Wild from running. Trauma bites deep, but instinct bites deeper.

Verbally held one spot, the raptors pounce on him. Time and Twilight pin him to the ground. Warriors holds down the other wing, putting a knee on the joint and pressing. It’s dangerous; the weight could snap the bone at the joint, but it’s also one of the few ways to keep Wild incapacitated.

Despite the command, he shrieks and thrashes.

“Keep his wing down! He’s going to damage it more!” Hyrule snaps.

Swallowing hard, Legend steps forward to help.

This will be finished tomorrow! With some comfort!

#pinned down #tw blood #whumptober2023 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu whumptober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu wing bois #lu wild #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu time #lu wing au

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fandomwritingbit · 1 year

Text

catching william afton in the act

warnings: the act is murder so: murder. mature and dark themes. It's fnaf.

notes: I wrote this too quickly, just a little something something. Bros tryna get back into writing for this blog lol.

"Y/n." A man's voice interrupted your cleaning of a table. Some little shit had gotten a slush all over it and luminous blue chunks avoided your cloth with some determination. Looking over, you see the face of your boss, Mr Emily.

"You mind going into the back stores and getting another hook for the damned fox?" You start nodding. It was the second time today you'd have to replace that, honest to God it was getting mental. "I don't know what they're doing to it, it's fucki-" He goes silent, shaking his head, before patting your arm in thanks, accompanying it with a sweet smile.

Let's be honest, you did mind this task. The back stores were miles away from the main floor where you were cleaning now. Miles away and creepy as all Hell. Greasy metal walls pretty much sound-proofed it and sometimes the bolts would deadlock, leaving you stuck in there, fumbling in the dark for the alarm.

Past images of you sitting on the floor surrounded by the half-dismembered animal suits, flooded your brain; they didn't scare you though, just pissed you off beyond all belief. You'd waited 25 minutes with only your phone touch for Mr Afton to get off his arse to let you out, your grievance greeted with him laughing and telling you he was going to take it off your clock.

Anyhow, you walked to the back stores thinking about what you could wedge to keep them doors open, your mind tickled by the thought of that slush being a stain on the carpet by now. It didn't take that long, though, and you grab your badge on your lanyard to swipe against the scanner thing.

Approval flashed green on the screen and you opened the door.

The sight before you was horrifying. Snatching all sense from you, filling your veins with the icy blockages of fear. The first thing you could comprehend was the blood. There was so much blood. Burgundy pools of it seeping slowly across the concrete floor towards your frame in the door.

Following it, you see a crouched figure in the middle of the room. A slumped stance you knew only too well: Mr Afton. Your mind burned with the thought that maybe he'd hurt himself, stuttering over the same thought again and again like a glitch, only to notice the legs peeking out from behind his frame. They were... short.

Your hand reaches automatically to your mouth to stifle the gasp torn from you at the realisation. Your whole form flinching as the unmistakable sound of a metal object being placed heavily beside the corpse. Looking to the left of the man to see a knife drenched in blood just below his shaking fingertips.

It kicked in, then. The adrenaline. The desperate, clasping, clawing need to survive. You step back slowly, careful to be silent so the monster in front of you doesn't hear anything. God knows what would happen if he saw you. Stepping back again, you grasp the door, slowly pulling it shut. Completely inaudible... until the knowing click of the shutting.

From inside, the man's head turned instantly, a wolf hearing the snapping of a twig. Someone was outside. And not only that they had opened the door and seen him. Here. Like this. An inconvenience to say the least.

He stood quickly, plotting how long it would take someone to run through the corridors, concluding that he could catch them. He had the sheer determination. Catching this person was his freedom. His LIFE. Didn't cross his mind for a second that it was yours, too.

You escaped. Tearing through the building and outside.You knew you wouldn't - no, couldn't stop til you got home and away. The fear didn't subside for a moment. But you tried to comfort yourself with the thought that although you'd been detected, you were still undiscovered. He knew someone saw him, but not that it was you. You made it. You survived. Now, what could you do? The police... that poor child...

He'd grabbed the door handle, breathing heavy, ready to give chase. But it didn't budge an inch.

The deadlock. The fucking deadlo- He nearly laughed. What were the chances? The amusement was fleeting, and the killer struck the metal door with such fury it made you flinch from halfway down the corridor.

No, you couldn't go to the police. He'd know it was you. Henry would tell him he'd sent you there. And he knew where you lived. It was rough and all. No one would help you here, no family either. It was your life in the balance. And you reached the devastating conclusion that you were scared into silence. Resolute that your words would change nothing. The deed was done.

For a while, he waited for your move. Expecting coppers on the door any day, so sure they'd be after him, but comfortable in the knowledge that he'd disposed of everything. What's a crime without a corpse?

You were a fool for that. But also because the corridor outside the stores had cameras. And a quick review of the footage showed Afton the scampering frame of one of his employees.

How the terror became you. Such wide eyes, so wide he took notice even through the pixelated video. You were quite the beautiful little thing like that.

It didn't pass him by that seeing you scared and thinking it stunning was wrong. But it was all wrong already anyway. So he indulged it.

The police did come eventually, but only to ask about a missing child. Not a murdered one. Then it hit him: you'd kept quiet. How utterly delightful. Why you had was a mystery to him, but it burned him with curiosity. And he was eager to pry that answer out of you. After all, you looked so sweet and scared.

However, you didn't show up to work that week. Or the week after. Not that he blamed you, you were certainly rattled and with good reason. Though he was growing more sure that he wouldn't hurt you... not that much. Not unless he had to.

He grew tired of waiting.

The knock at your door was unexpected, you hadn't left the house for a fortnight. Trapped behind a waterfall of fear.

You opened it on the latch and quickly attempted to shut it at the crushing sight before you. Fear was deep set in your bones, making your hands shake, and your knees go weak in your attempt at shutting this monster out.

"Come on." He mocked, his foot firmly lodged between the door and frame, stopping you in your tracks. "Let me in, sweetheart." It was so sweetly said, but one look at his blown pupils was like looking into Medusa's eyes.

"Please, Mr Afton... I don't..." You started begging through the door, stepping back in terror, thoughts running in circles of how you could get away. Windows? Doors? No. Could you hide? The bed? The cupboards?

Whilst you begged gibberish, lost in the thought of getting him away, a blade caught the light as it peered round the door. Hooking under the latch and slowly jigging it along until it clinked its defeat, shortly followed by a sob from you.

As he stepped through, pressing the door shut behind him and slowly locking it too, you dropped to your knees involuntarily. It was like your body admitted defeat even though you were flooded by fight or flight, leaving you a sobbing, shivering mess. Unintelligible words leaving your lips without your acknowledgement.

"Easy now. Why on earth are you on the floor?" He spoke interspersed with chuckles, finding you heart-wrenchingly pathetic.

"Please, Mr Afton. Don't... I won't- I won't..." Your words were lost when he placed his hand under your chin. Pulling your gaze up to his terrifying form looking down at you.

"You won't what, sweetheart?" Oh how he enjoyed the quivering of your breathing against his thumb. It was beginning to dawn on this man how intertwined fear and arousal really were.

He prompted your response again by humming. And you inhale heavily before trying to articulate your point.

"I won't tell anyone what- what I saw."

"Huh." He laughed, his grip under your chin becoming a little tighter. How sweet.

"Really." You gripped his arm in a sudden aching fit of begging. "I swear- please just let me- I've kept quiet until now. You can trust me."

"That is true... but is that enough?" By now his grip was so rough it was leaving bruises under your jaw. More tears were forced out of your eyes, pain blooming cruelly.

"I-I..." He cut you off, lifting a finger against your lips.

"Shush shush shush, now. I'm not going to do anything. I'll give you a chance..." He bent down slightly, his breath close to your skin. "Prove to me that I can trust you..."

Looking at him, your legs tense. "Wha- how?"

"Show me just how pretty you can be."

#fnaf #william afton #fnaf william afton #fnaf x reader #william afton x you #william afton x reader #five nights at freddy's

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romeulusroy · 11 months

Text

Heed (Roman Roy x Mencken!Reader)

Chatacter/s: Roman, Mencken, Logan mention

Word Count: 1,413

Inspired By: Nothing's New by Rio Romeo

Requested: hihi! ahh i loved your newest roman fic! i also have severe roman brain rot & would love a fic that is super fluffy & hurt/comfort where he is super soft with the reader (either his s/o or situationship or friend or lil sibling i don’t mind & hope that isn’t to vague) & treats them like he does with kerry in ep4 at logans wake.thank you so so so much xx - anon

A/N: Are you ready for the hurt/comfort my love???? Because I don't think you are!!! :P This was so cute, he was literally so cute in that moment like god please let him be soft!!! Thank you for requesting my love!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist

You scream his name, but it’s too late. They recognize you. They’re grabbing at you, pulling at your clothes, tearing them from your body. You’ve fallen to the ground, on your hands and knees, begging for them to stop. Crying out to him. There’s too many of them, they’ve made a wall around you, a bubble he can’t pop. They’re kicking you, punching you, pulling at your hair. The road burns under your skin, your palms being torn to shreds. You taste blood in your mouth, choking on it, unable to cry out any longer. He’s calling your name, crying out to you, but you can’t move. You can’t fight. There’s too many. You can feel it in your stomach, in your sides, your chest: their anger. They won’t stop. All of them are so angry, so full of rage, taking it out on you. Your shirt is torn open, torn off, discarded in the crowd, one of your shoes gone. Your left eye has swollen completely shut and there’s a terrible, pulsing ache on the side of your head. It vibrates through your skull, making you nauseous, terribly aware of the iron taste in your mouth. Something wet and hot drips down your face, your chin. It feels like forever, hands groping you, touching you. They spit their words. Words meant for your brother, your family, not you. You had nothing to do with his campaign, his supposed win. Nothing. You shared a single last name, that was all. That was all. Eternity passes before they’ve grown tired, bored, before you’ve gone limp, crying quietly to yourself, your arms wrapped around you, protecting you from the cold of night. They’ve moved on, leaving you shaking, whimpering. Someone touches you, but you pull away, screaming at them to get away from you, get away. He just shushes you. It’s me, he says as gently as possible, It’s just me. You open your good eye, staring up at him. He’s bleeding. One of his eyes has gone completely red. He looks frantic, disheveled. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, all he can see is the crowd swarming around you, hurting you, you calling out for him and he’s unable to help. He’d never felt so helpless. Steadily, holding out his hands, he reaches for his jacket. He slips it off, putting it around your bare shoulders, making sure you see his every action. Despite yourself, you flinch. Despite yourself, you fall into him, shuddering, shaking, crying. He doesn’t think about it, instead instinctively putting his arms around you, holding you tight. It’s okay, he whispers, everything is going to be okay.

He never meant for this to happen.

Your brother never should have said what he did. You knew, under that faux laugh and eye roll was someone hurting, mourning, grieving. You tried to apologize later on, but by then the damage had been done. By Jeryd, by Kendall, by that stupid video going around. From the moment you met him you liked him. You didn’t care about the friendship between him and your brother, or that he was a Roy. He was funny, and kind when no one was looking. You’d only talked a few times, but you got the sense that he liked you, too. He went to seek you out at the election party, the two of you conversing in your own private corner for over an hour. He made you laugh easily, hysterically, until you were crying. Nothing was off limits. You spoke of your brother's political career, how it had made an impact on your life. It could be worse, you shrugged, trying not to sound inconsiderate. Roman was, after all, a huge help. He’d been with him from the beginning, most of the family had, too. You’d told him how sorry you were about his father, hugging him tight, and you noticed he didn’t resist or try to side-step you like he had others. His shoulders slumped a little. He was taking it in, really taking it in, grateful you weren’t made of plastic like everyone else. It could also be better, he objected. You just nodded, unsure of what to say. It could always be better. True. You’d lost a lot of friends because of Jeryd, a lot of people in your life. It felt like, sometimes, you only had Roman. He’d asked for your number, for anything about the campaign he’d said quickly after, but you understood. You texted, you called. Sometimes about your brother. Mostly about life. How you were doing, how he was doing. He wasn’t all defensive and witty over text. He dropped the exhausting act. It was nice. You were seeing the real him. When he took off you chased after him. You couldn’t let him do what he was going to do, whatever it was, fearing the worst. He walked down the street, past his car, towards the protesters. Your stomach dropped. You watched him get hit, once twice, before going down. You called to him, trying to save him from himself, climbing over the barrier. You shouldn’t have. It was stupid. But you couldn’t let him get hurt. That’s when they recognized you, that’s when they came after you.

You stay like that for a long time. He rubs your back, hushing your cries. It’ll be okay, we’ll get you some help. Head pounding, sides aching, everything hurt. It hurts to breathe. Slowly you make your way to the other side of the barriers where he sits you down on the sidewalk, trying to access your wounds. You’ll need stitches, he thinks dreadfully, a lot of them. As carefully as possible, he wipes the blood away, red soaking into the sleeve of his white button up. Your head is pretty banged up and you might be missing a few back teeth. He can see the bruises forming in the opening of his jacket and your palms are bright red. You’d stopped crying, now embarrassed. I’m okay, really, you protested, fighting him, but the look in his eyes was scared and stern: stay put. You couldn’t stop yourself from apologizing. If you’d been smarter, if you thought for just one second, he wouldn’t have to be doing this. Roman was quite a moment, getting to your level on the ground. This is my fault, not yours. You were, you were just being a good person. You shake your head, going on and on about what an idiot you are, but he’s not listening. He tips your chin up, making you look in those big brown eyes. So sad, you think, so hurt. Listen to me, his voice soft, shaking. This wasn’t- it’s not- none of this was your fault, okay? You just shrugged, defeated. He calls a car that should be there soon. In the meantime he sits beside you, every so often dabbing your forehead. Is it as bad as it feels? You’re quiet now. How would you explain this to your brother? How could you explain your lack of thought? You just moved, you just acted, following him because you were worried, because you were petrified about what would happen to him if you didn’t. He’d never understand. You and Roman, you weren’t anything, but you cared about him and he cared about you. It didn’t have to have a name. It didn’t have to exist to everyone else. He shakes his head, dabbing the blood. You kinda pull it off. You smile, nudging him. Really, this could be the new look. You roll your eyes. You let your head rest on his shoulder, exhausted, the adrenaline wearing off. Everything hurts, everything aches. You reach with your tongue in two empty sockets. Your teeth must be over there, on the sidewalk. He puts his arm around you, letting it hover just above your skin, not wanting to cause anymore harm. He knows you’re tender, that the booze and emotions will wear off and you’ll be in a world of pain. The car pulls up just as he’s about to call. Slowly he guides you in, climbing in beside you. They start to drive quickly, towards the nearest hospital, every so often glaring up at you two. What a sight. Your poor eye, you whisper, touching the side of his bruised face. He holds your hands, knowing how they must burn. He didn’t care the least about himself, you were his only concern. You should see the other guy.

#writing #requested #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader #jeryd mencken #jeryd mencken imagine #jeryd mencken x reader

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arueternity · 1 year

Note

Headcannons with the sleepy boys with a fem reader - they find out about her healing/healed SH scars and give her extra attention/treat her like a princess. Nsfw allowed and encouraged for a bit of it. Feel free to not do this request if it hits too close to home 🫶🏼

Hey love! I didn't feel comfortable doing NSFW on such a sensitive topic so I hope the comfort and princess treatment is enough! I kept everything vague so it's easier for others to read as well. I also hope you're doing well! <3 Warnings: Mentions of self-harm, Self-harm scars, Slight suicidal ideation.

Vessel

Vessel will notice her being shifty, hiding certain body parts, and acting defensive.

He takes note and catches her off guard, telling her almost forcefully to show him what is it

He’s upset obviously, but he pushes it aside to ask her why. Vessel just wants to understand how he can help in this area.

He’ll pull her into a hug, crushing her into him, and gives her gentle kisses.

He’s unsure of how to properly give her the love she needs without going overboard. So he’ll do his best, always checking in on her, getting her her favorite foods.

When the days are rougher than the other, Vessel will sit down with her and gently apply creams to the healing scars. Sweet whispers while he kisses away the tears.

It starts out with II noticing the beginning stages of depression slowly slipping into her

He puts it off hoping that it’s all just down and that she can get back out of

Unfourntaly he notices it's not and then starts to heavily pay attention to her

It's when they’re cuddling he notices the hiss and flinch when he touches the area.

II doesn’t push just lets her open up to him, letting her tell him whatever she is comfortable with.

He’ll guide her to the bathroom to clean them cut and kisses some princess bandaids on the smaller ones

After that, he’s careful of how he touches her and always offers to take her places when he can see it's getting worse

III

III always likes to play fight and with that a lot of things happen, he gets scars and scratches often

When he notices hers at first he believes they are from similar things, maybe she was playing fighting with someone who has claws.

He truly didn’t understand what it was at first but after she explains it to him through tears, he’s crying with her.

He asks her how much an amazing person could do that to themselves and tries his best to comfort her.

It does take a while for the two of them to calm down enough for him to ask to see them

He places little star stickers on the scars and says he’ll do it till she realizes how much she is truly worth

III of course goes and buys any sticker he deems is worthy of his person

My version of IV has experience with this personally, he has a few of his own that he hides

He almost forgets about his own most of the time which is amazing truly

But when he catches the slight off-colored lines on her, he panics

The deep dread kicks in and IV is doing his anxious best to try to pull her into another room with just them

When he finally manages after almost a week of trying, he gently prompts the quiet

The room is thick with tension and he’s doing his best to calm her down to tell her it's okay and he just wants to make sure she’s stopped

IV is compassionate about the topic and expresses better ways to deal with it in case the urge comes up again

He doesn’t make it about himself but implies he understands the struggle.

If he ever notices her struggling with the urge, he does his best to place his hand in hers so she can distract herself with them.

#sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token vessel #sleep token headcanons #headcannons #comfort #imagine #x reader #sleep token x reader

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niki-phoria · 1 year

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i recently watched a clip about chishiya and usagi (where he received the bullet instead of her) and i was just thinking (if it is possible) if you could write about reader having a crush on chishiya and even telling kuina about it, but then finding out that chishiya likes usagi, so maybe reader tries to forget him with someone else and even tries to avoid him. but then chishiya realized that maybe he likes reader too but is now too late for do it something about or maybe not 👀👀 (thats up to you) thank u

pairing: chishiya x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff/hurt comfort word count: 572

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i kinda changed this idea because chishiya taking the bullet for usagi is important for his character development and i didn’t want to take away from that by making it into a crush but i tried to keep most of the same elements (reader telling kuina about their crush, chishiya gets shot for usagi) i hope you like it :)) can't tell if i like the ending of this one ngl

warnings: blood, chishiya gets shot, reader gets shot, canon typical violence

requests open !! read my rules first

“i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n,” chishiya gives you a half-smile before he turns to leave.

you nod, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. “see you tomorrow, chishiya.”

next to you kuina smirks as she nudges you with her shoulder. she takes her wooden cigarette from her mouth, rolling it between her fingers.

“is something going on between you and chishiya?”

“no,” you avoid eye contact with her. “why?”

“there totally is!” she laughs, knocking her shoulder against yours. “i’ve never seen him act like that with anyone else.”

“i’m sure he’s just in a good mood or something.”

“don’t you think it’s an odd coincidence that he’s only in a ‘good mood’ around you?” kuina laughs, patting your shoulder. “i’m just saying, you should ask him out.”

you hum. “i’ll think about it.”

“chishiya!” you rush to his side, pressing your hands against his chest.

“y/n,” he rasps. his blood seeps through his jacket, staining your hands red.

“it’s okay,” you whisper, though you can’t tell if you mean it to yourself or him. “it’s gonna be okay.” chishiya brings a hand up to wrap around your wrist. arisu and usagi kneel down next to you.

you can barely hear gunshots from nearby. arisu flinches a little, turning over his shoulder. his hands shake a little as he clutches his shotgun, slinging it over his shoulder.

“y/n,” usagi says, gently touching your shoulder. “we need to get going.”

“i can’t leave him,” you whisper. tears sting your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks. you desperately press your hands against his chest even harder in a poor attempt to stop the bleeding.

“y/n,” chishiya whispers. he moves his hand from yours to your cheek, brushing a tear away. “she’s right. you need to go. i’ll be okay. i promise.”

you sniffle, swallowing your fear. “okay.”

your hands shake as you press them against your side, forcing yourself up. you grunt, leaning against the wall as you limp forwards. the brick digs into your skin as you shove yourself against the side.

aguni sits on a pile of rubble, staring into space next to the king of spade’s body. you swallow, pressing your hand against your side even harder. you ignore the stinging pain shooting through your ankle with each step.

chishiya has moved to lean against the same car you left him at. blood has completely soaked through his jacket, staining the white fabric. “y/n,” he sighs. you use the car to support yourself as you sit down on the ground next to him. chishiya’s hand replaces your own in an attempt to stop the bleeding. you cough from the pressure, hand moving to grab his arm.

“you’re hurt,” you hiss, leaning your head against the car.

chishiya shakes his head, focused on your own injuries. “i’m fine.”

“chishiya, you got shot.”

“so did you.” your breath hitches when he applies even more pressure against your side.

“‘shiya,” you grunt. chishiya pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against his shoulder. “it hurts.”

“i know,” he whispers. “i’m sorry. it’s gonna be okay. i promise.”

you desperately cling to him. you can feel tears rolling down your cheeks, staining his jacket. his hands are warm against your side, still pressed against your wound. “chishiya,” you whisper. your voice breaks a little. “i love you.”

“you’re gonna be okay,” he repeats. “i love you too.”

small ramble about the character development: the shootout scene is super important for niragi, arisu, and chishiya. niragi represents the morally bad and arisu represents the morally good. chishiya exists between them, directly in the middle. he could go either way. it’s important that he starts the shootout because he is the morally neutral one. him shooting first shows him being pulled towards the bad but when arisu refuses to shoot at them, he has a change of heart. arisu is only willing to potentially hurt them for usagi, someone he loves. chishiya taking a bullet for her is important because it is the first sign of him truly changing. he’s putting himself in danger for someone he doesn’t really care about (lmao sorry usagi). he later confirms this when he says that he wanted to “do something out of character.”

after the games end he chooses to go back to the normal world instead of staying in the borderlands because he truly wants to change. it’s easy to be a bad person in the borderlands. it’s hard to be good in the normal world. he leaves because he wants to be better and getting hurt for someone else is the first sign of this. it’s all very important so i didn’t want to undermine chishiya’s development into him getting hurt over a crush.

also slightly irrelevant but niragi is right when he says arisu, chishiya, and himself are similar. they’re all selfish people. niragi is self-explanatory, chishiya hurts people for his own benefit, and arisu accidentally gets people killed because he’s only operating from his own perspective and doing what he thinks is best, even when it’s the wrong decision. even in the normal world, arisu is ungrateful while he lives off of his dad and he isn’t there for his brother. arisu leaves because he doesn’t want to hurt people anymore. chishiya leaves because he wants to be a better person, and he can’t change in the borderlands. niragi is probably the most likely to stay, but ultimately his desire to live outweighs his want to hurt people so he leaves.

anyway, i hope you enjoyed the fic and understand why i changed parts of the original ask lol

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shibaraki · 1 year

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Dust fairies danced in the sunlight where it filters through the curtains. The day started anew. There’s no incessant ring of an alarm nor dregs of anxiety left from the night before. Everything is still, and you are in bed with a man that loves you.

There was once a time in your life that you had gone what felt like years without touch.

You’d never been any good at making people want to stick around. An ugly, rusted thing. Relationships required vulnerability that meant opening up to the possibility of being hurt. Loneliness became the easy option in the end; having been dealt enough pain to last another lifetime, you were too scared someone might smell the heartache on your clothes to let them close enough anymore.

But Shouta was different.

You think you saw it in him first. Call him a kindred spirit— though Aizawa’s loneliness was as deceptive as the rest of him. Unapparent. At some point in his life he learned to spread himself thin enough that no one could see it. Even if you tried he never gave you enough time to parse all the pieces.

Back then watching him made something deep inside you ache. A visceral hunger for companionship and comfort. For true familiarity. Not only did the intensity of your desires scare you, they humiliated you. Stripped you bare and left you frayed like an exposed nerve. For months on end you fretted over who would notice, yet the shoe never dropped.

Progress accumulated slowly. You learn that some things just take time. Brushing against one another in the hallways. Feet knocking together under the staff desks. A finger outstretched to map out your knuckles as he passes you a cup of something hot. Your cravings swallowed you whole and you sought more. He came at you with a soft sort of intent that belied both fondness and caution, repeatedly, until his touches didn't seem so accidental after all.

You lay beside him now, languorously and without grief. A disquieting peace settled over the bedroom. Sound is drowned out by Shouta’s shallow, soft breathing. The limp drag of his hand over your stomach, buried into your neck. You’ve reached the end of a book; the last page, completely blank and there only to cushion its conclusion.

Slowly, you turn to face him. Shouta’s nose wrinkles at the disturbance but he doesn’t wake. You smile at the thin halo of light crowning his head and reach to coil a dark curl around your finger, bloating with a feeling you can’t put a name to. Weightlessness that pinned you heavy to the mattress.

His eye twitches as your finger traces gently along the scar on his cheekbone, soon flitting open only to flinch away from the sun. You laugh at the sound of discontentment.

“Gonna get up?”

Shouta exhales a drawn out breath and smacks his lips. “Mmph,” he grunted inaudibly.

There is no urgency to fill the silence or apologise for your nakedness. You hum, besotted, and happy to let him rest for a while longer, only to startle when he threads your hands together. A quick look at his face tells you he’s not awake.

Even so, held close between your bodies, in his half conscious state Shouta intermittently squeezes every few seconds as if to remind you that he’s still there—

And that you’re not alone.

#m.aizawa

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year

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I’ve read a few asks on your blog and other blogs and some people have been trying to prove Jikook isn’t real because “Jk doesn’t allow Jm come too close, but he allows Tae”. First of all, this is ridiculous as hell for so many freaking reasons! As funny as i may sound, this is one of the reason why I personally started believing that Jikook are more than friends and i would just like to explain something cuz clearly, some pple still just don’t get it!

Jk and Jimin and not in a normal, everyday dating situation like you and I! It’s not that simple for them, and i feel like many pple forget this at times! When we look at them, we have certain expectations of them as a couple and when we do not see them, we start doubting forgetting that these boys actually have a lot to lose if they are not cautious! Cautious or not, sometimes our emotions get the better of us and we have seen that alot with Jikook but we cannot expect them to be careless all the freaking time! Yes I do agree that Jk gets flustered or nervous at certain times with Jimin comes too close that he sometimes stiffens up or almost looks uncomfortable and he straight up sometimes turns Jimin around! With Tae and the other members, he doesn’t have a problem with them being so close, (we already know that BTS members lack boundaries with eo) he only reacts that way with Jimin! Now, some pple have said why would he be ok with Tae being so close but doesn’t allow JM get that close? Shouldn’t he be very comfortable with his boyfriend? Some people have taken that to mean he is not comfortable with Jimin, or doesn’t like Jimin or is not comfortable with Jimin touching him and unfortunately many pple have eaten into this misinformed narrative! Since so many pple just don’t get it, let me explain why i think he acts this way! Look at it this way, when you have nothing to hide, you don’t overthink every action, every word said, you don’t easily panic or get flustered cuz there is NOTHING to hide! When other members come too close to Jk or touch him, he doesn’t have any reaction because with the other members (including Tae), there is NOTHING to hide. He doesn’t overthink when he does fanservice with Tae cuz there is nothing behind it. He doesn’t overthing when he kisses Joon on the forehead, or when he hugs hobi, or when he hugs Jin or touches him! He does all of those freely but when it comes to Jimin, he overthinks everything because with Jimin, there is SOMETHING to hide! He easily gets flustered or nervous when Jimin cranks up the flirt because he knows that those moments are not innocent and he worries about giving away too much, considering the fact that they are NOT out yet! He would not flinch when Jin touches him or when Hobi does or when Tae does, but he does when Jimin tries to touch him at times (and no, flinching doesn’t always mean not wanting it). Jk is an introvert and in as much as Jikook may want pple to know they are together, they just can’t and in certain moments, their fear of getting exposed is more than their need of wanting pple to know! They know that they may have alot to loose if they are outed! Also, the other members touches and skinship don’t mean anything to Jk! They could touch him all they want but that wouldn’t get a hair on his body to stand straight! The same cannot be said for Jimin! Jimin’s touches to Jk are not just touches! Those are touches than can literally send electric waves down his spine, those are touches that move things in him, those are touches that get him rock hard, so yes, he has to be more cautious of those touches that ACTUALLY do things to him!

SOMEONE WHO IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANOTHER PERSON’S TOUCH DOESN’T SEEK THEM OUT! If Jk was ever uncomfortable with Jimin like some of y’all haters like to claim, he would never seek Jimin out or initiate skinship with him! We have seen him seek Jimin out so many times! We have seen him initiate skinship so many times! And just to see how relaxed and comfortable Jk can be with Jimin being so close or touching him, look for the moments when they are not very aware of the cameras or are not the main focus of the cameras! A few examples of moments they were not aware of the cameras:

Car Selfie! We see Jk all up in Jimin neck as they were trying to take a selfie (or so they said)! Jk is all up in there that he doesn’t even notice when the camera appears and Jimin has to shrug him off his shoulders to get him to notice the camera! When Jk does, you immediately see a change in his countenance and he literally starts to hyperventilate lol! Just seconds b4 that, he literally looked the most comfortable i had ever seen him just because he wasn’t aware of the cameras but that all changed once he knew the camera was there! Jhopes JITB: This was another instance where they were having a private moment and the camera again appeared out of nowhere! We see Jk and Jimin standing in a dark corner, so close to each other, heads close to each other, Jk’s hand ontop of Jimin’s and even though the clip was just seconds long, we could clearly see that they were comfortably standing there with each other but immediately the camera appeared, they quickly separated from each other and Jm was so flustered he couldn’t even turn around to look at the camera! Another instance was that one time Tae went to give Jimin a gift (can’t remember where that footage came from exactly) and Jk and Jimin were sitting together and Jm had his arms around Jk and they were without a camera! Immediately the camera appeared with Tae, we could all see the flustered and nervous look on Jk’s face! Poor bb, he gives it away everytime lol! We also have the hidden camera in the hotel rooms! They were not aware the staff had placed cameras in their hotel rooms and we see all the other members get into their hotel rooms except JM! We later see Jk and JM getting into Jk’s room and let’s not even talk about JM’s reaction when he saw the camera! So how can you honestly think or believe that Jk is uncomfortable with Jimin being too close when we have all of these? Doesn’t this only prove that Jk only acts like that because of the cameras? Why is it that everytime we catch them unawares or behind the scenes when they are not the main focus if the camera, Jk doesn’t look the same way he does when they are very aware of the cameras? Also, did you ever stop to ask yourselves why he only acts that way with Jimin? He can play around all day with Tae, Jin, Hobi, RM, Suga, he would touch them anyhow, they would touch him, Tae will flat out use Jk as his pillow or bed, and you wouldn’t get any reaction from him, simply because they are NOT the ones who move him! Jimin starts coming close and he starts hyperventilating because he knows what Jimin’s touches do to him! WHEN HE IS NOT IN CONTROL, HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO ACT! If he initiates the touches, he can contol how it goes (sometimes) but when he doesn’t initiates the touches with Jimin, he get cautious cus let’s face it, Jimin can sometimes go overboard and poor Jk just wouldn’t know how to handle it! Sometimes we see him almost lose control like the other anon stated! When he goes to Jimin and puts his arms around him and starts getting close like he wants to kiss him and then getting flustered and holding his beating heart! Why on earth would he have that reaction if Jimin didn’t move things in him? We have seen shy Jk stare Tae doen during their fanservice moments and didn’t have any reaction whatsoever but just standing close to Jimin gets his heart to race out of control and you still honestly think those two are just bros? We would see certain common couple behaviours between those two but we cannot honestly expect to see them act like a normal couple when they are NOT in a normal situation! Thats all i’m saying!

Oh anon, how i love every single word u just said.

This here is one of my favourite moments of JK absolutely loathing the camera for invading an intimate moment.

And the other moment u talked about was from BV Malta finale. JK absolutely hated the invasion. His face says it all

Just a btw, this was Jimin's shirt before him and JK secluded themselves. So do with this what u will ☕

Here is Jikook letting go suspiciously when they saw the camera

We all know about this one

Jimin entwines their hands. JK pulls his hand away. And the first thing he does after letting go of Jimin's hand is look at the camera. That right there shows he only did that coz cameras were on.

Again. If Jikook is fanservice why do they do this? As a Jikook stan I demand by fanservice 😪

Bon Boyage season 3 Jimin putting sunscreen on JK and then going way deeper and intimate than he was supposed to. (We already discussed how Jimin does certain things to rile JK up 🤭)

And what does JK do? Looks at the damn camera!

First he looks at his man like "babe, tf?!" Then looks at the camera. This is sus behaviour. He literally wouldn't care if this was any other member.

Anon, honestly. Great fucking ask. I love it

#if jikook isn't real then neither am i #jikook is real #jikook #kookmin #minkook #bts #jimin and jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jimin #jungkook #bts ask #ask shaz #bon voyage Jikook #bangtan bomb jikook #jikook analysis

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