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scaryscarecrows · 4 years

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Beggar, Pick Up Your Crown

AN: Title from Jerry Cantrell’s ‘Siddhartha’. Takes place the day after ‘Out of Hell’.

Happy birthday, Jason!

* * *

Jason wakes from the...he’s thinking the third-best nights’ sleep he’s had in his whole life. First one was...pfft, one’a those random nights, Mom had been feeling okay, and they’d stayed up to see the sunrise and made s’mores on the stove. Second had been after his first. His. Patrol. First patrol.

He has no idea what time it is, and he’s afraid to open his eyes, lest last night turn out to be a dream. He stays still for the moment, concentrating on the cheap hotel mattress under his still-aching body, the smell of complimentary soap and cleaner and that lingering people have been born, had sex, and probably died in this room smell that these sorts of places have. He can hear rain and traffic and general Gotham Living outside and in the rooms around him.

And he’s hungry.

Okay. Okay. He’s woken up out of nice dreams before, and it hurts, but. But he can do it again. One more time.

Please…

He cracks his eyes open.

The room is beige and...rusty orange...and very bright. Well, bright to him, anyway. It’s empty, but he rolls over and, muscles protesting the whole time, peers under the bed. Zilch.

Still unconvinced he’s not hallucinating or unwillingly playing one of the clown’s head games, Jason stumbles out of the warm bed, ankle cracking horribly when he makes it take his weight, and shuffles to the bathroom. Nothing. Nothing in the shower, or wedged into the little cabinet under the sink. He’s alone here.

He lets his breath out slowly, slumping forward against the sink to take some of the pressure off his ankle. He’ll have to look at it later, look at everything later, but...but not now. Not this second, huh?

His hair’s too long; his bangs are in his eyes and he can feel dead ends scraping the back of his neck. No way in hell is he letting anyone near him with scissors. That’s okay. He did self-trims when he was a kid.

He’s out.

He’s out, he’s free of that monster. That bastard’s never going to hurt him ever again. The thought makes him lightheaded, brings an unfamiliar twist to his lips that feels like it might be a smile.

And then he makes the mistake of looking up at the mirror.

The boy-no, he’s not a boy anymore, is he-looking back at him looks dead. He’s pasty white, thin and hollow-cheeked with no spark to his eyes. There’s cuts and gashes all over his face, his nose is crooked, and...and there’s that. The brand on his face, the one that still hurts, the one that screams to the world, PROPERTY OF THE JOKER, IF FOUND, PLEASE RETURN!

I’ll never get away from him.

The mirror shatters under his fist, shards jabbing in between his knuckles and falling into the sink and bouncing off the counter to hit the tiles by his feet. He doesn’t care. He can’t face this he can’t face this he can’t--

This is too much for his ankle; it buckles and then he’s kneeling in the glass, sobbing so hard it’s silent and hurts his throat and chest. He chokes, doubles over so’s his forehead’s pressed against his knees, bites down on his lips to try and...and…

Willis always said, ‘boys don’t cry’. Bruce hadn’t...he’d never known what to do with tears. Or any outpouring of emotion, for that matter. And Joker had loved them. But Jason? Right now, he doesn’t care about any of that. He wants Mom, but Mom can’t be here anymore.

It takes him several minutes to register that the tears have stopped and that he’s just...huddled here on the floor with glass jutting out of his skin. The glass doesn’t hurt, but his ankle does and he slowly and carefully brings it up to investigate.

It’s swollen and hot to the touch and it...something about it doesn’t look quite right. He’ll wrap it, he decides, he’ll get a compression bandage or something later today. Okay. He’s okay. He’s just gotta breathe, get up, clean this mess up because he was raised better than to leave this shit for the housekeeper, and then...if he is where he thinks he is, there’s a bodega two blocks south, one that has a gray tabby that lounges in the window. They’ll have a thing of chips or something he can choke down (safely), maybe bandages. Definitely a hoodie, at least, a nice touristy hoodie.

He can make it two blocks. Like he’s got a choice, but he can make it two blocks.

* * *

The smell of rotting watermelons, cheap ice cream bars, and packaged bread is possibly one of the best things Jason’s ever smelled in his life. He’s starving, and now, confronted with food choices, he knows he’s gonna have to exercise some restraint and not just devour a stale baguette in the middle of the store. Crackers. And maybe a soup-cup-thing, that’s mild. And, uh, cranberry juice, yeah, that’s sorta healthy. And a Reese’s. If the Reese’s makes him sick, it’ll be worth it.

The owner is dancing lightly to the mariachi on the radio and the cat is more interested in the birds outside than in him, which means he can limp through the store on his own sweet time. They do have bandages, and the food he thinks he can do, and a red hoodie* proclaiming, I Survived Gotham. It’ll do.

What’s worrying him-apart from, you know, everything else-is where he found money last night. He doesn’t remember a damn thing after leaving Arkham, and it scares him. Mystery for later, though, because he’s hungry and grateful he doesn’t have to rob the bodega man, who-miracle of miracles-doesn’t so much as look up at him. He pulls the hoodie on the second he’s outside, though, tugs the hood up to try and cover the damn thing at least a little.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He can’t go back to him-he’ll die first-and he can’t...s’like they say, you can never go home again. If Wayne Manor was ever home.

Left me he left me with him he said he’d always be there and he fucking left me with that bastard--

He just doesn’t know what to do.

He stumbles back into the hotel room, debates on whether or not he wants to use the grody microwave provided, and decides that yes, yes he does. This will be the first real food he’s had in over a year and he wants to try and enjoy it, if that’s possible.

Man, he hasn’t had one of these in...geeze, since before Mom died. They’re not Old Money Approved, after all. Good. He’s not Old Money Approved, either.

It’s done, he decides, when it pops and the lid gets all soft and hot. It smells okay. Safe, anyway, no hint of Joker venom or any other little surprises. The steam curls around his face, making the...the burn a little tender, but it’s fine. It’s fine. He bought it all sealed up and he’s the only one who’s touched it. He took off the safety tin.

So why can’t he eat it? His appetite’s vanished, even though he knows he needs to eat, it’s just…

You gotta eat, baby.

That sounds like Mom, and it should be concerning, but...he does need to eat. And he can’t just chug it, either, much as he’d like to get it over with. He’s gotta be slow and careful.

Cracker! He’ll dip a cracker in.

The soup’s hot and salty on his tongue, miles above the slop he’s been eating in the asylum. Once he swallows the slightly soggy cracker, his appetite returns with a vengeance and it’s an effort not to pour half the column of crackers in, smash them to bits with the spoon, and eat the resulting mush here and now. But he can’t. He’ll be sick. Hell, he might be sick anyway, who knows.

He dunks another cracker in, catches a wispy noodle on it this time. Jesus. Jesus Christ, this is it, he’s living on soup and crackers forever, this is the best thing he’s eaten in his life--

--no. No it isn’t, is it. Alfred. Alfred made…

Not now. Just eat.

That’s right. He can’t think about anything, that’s not...he’s spent a long time, trapped in his own head. Not now. He can’t do that now. Food first.

The soup goes down easily enough, the cran juice a little less so but it stays in, and then he has to admit that yup, time for some self-examination.

He’s not facing the mirror-or what’s left of it-again. It’s better to stay here, to strip off despite knowing that hotel beds are scuzzy, and, well, survey the damage. And there is a lot of damage. Burn scars, wire scars, marks he can’t even begin to trace. He doesn’t really want to know what his back looks like, but he’ll have to find out.

Further poking the ankle says that oh, sure, it’s...healing, or maybe as good as it’s gonna get, but that squeezing certain spots of it makes his vision go white and over-manipulating it is worse than that. He puts the bandage on it, because what else can he do, and struggles back into his clothes. No more. He can’t do more right now.

* * *

Jason does not mean to fall into a fitful sleep, but that’s what happens. He wakes up gasping and soaked in sweat, a man’s shouting echoing in his ears. Sounds like Willis.

After a minute of lying here, he comes to realize that it isn’t Willis, and it isn’t a dream. It’s...lobby, something’s going on in the lobby.

Shit.

It’s hard to move as steathily as he used to, but he’s still quieter than the average schmuck when he slips out of bed and opens the door to creep down the hall. It’s late, which means the clerk should be alone, which makes them easy pickings. People never change, much as Batman insists that they do.

The shouting man has a gun. He’s wearing a scarf around the lower half of his face and he’s actually kinda big. Looks plenty comfortable threatening a woman half his size.

He doesn’t think, just moves; grabs one of the little chairs near the doors and hurls it

Owowowow not good movement not good

at the man’s back. He trips, gun falling from his fingers and sliding under the desk. The woman, wisely, ducks.

“What the fuck--oh, we got us a Batman-wannabe.” The guy cracks his back. “Come on, then, hero.”

He’s out of practice. Doesn’t mean he’s helpless. He dodges the oncoming haymaker and retaliates by going straight for the jugular.

Or, in this case, the balls. Fighting fair does not get you far in life.

The bravado vanishes. It’s hard to be badass when you’re shrieking like a little girl with your testicles twisted in a fist. Jason lets go, headbutts him to get him down, and steps around him to fish the gun out from under the desk.

“Get the hell out of here,” he says, more out of breath than he should be after that. His shoulders hurt from the throw. That can’t be good. “Or pray to God Batman shows up to save you in the next thirty seconds.”

“You son of a bitch--”

“Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven--”

“I’ll kill you!”

He cocks the gun. Little awkwardly, it’s true-Bruce taught him the absolute bare minimum of gun handling-but it gets his point across.

“Twenty-six. Twenty-five.”

The man can’t quite get upright, but he manages to hobble outside. Jason doesn’t chase after him. He’s shaking, a little, and the gun’s awkward in his hand.

“Thank you.” Oh. Yeah. He forgot about her. “I don’t know--he wanted money, I guess--”

“Don’t they all.” He doesn’t turn around. He can’t; he’s way too identifiable. “You’re welcome.” Back to his room it is, to get his crap and clear out. “I’m gonna check out before the cops show.”

“I’m not calling them.” Huh. “They never come. That’s the third time in two months we’ve had someone in here.”

Figures.

He doesn’t answer-what do you say, huh?-, just shuffles back to his room. He doesn’t realize, until the door’s locked behind him, that he’s still got the gun.

Well, he figures, as he stumbles back towards the bed, at least if Joker manages to track him here, he won’t have to go back. He’ll kill the clown or himself, it doesn’t matter which, but he’s not going back.

He crawls under the blankets this time, tries to get a little more comfortable. It must work, because in five minutes, he’s out. Nothing wakes him this time.

THE END

*Arkham!Jason has a fondness for red hoodies even pre-Red Hood; both baby Jay and grown-up Jay are shown wearing one in the prequels. For obvious reasons. :p

#Jason Todd #arkhamverse #takes place literally less than 24 hours after his escape #fic

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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

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Catch Me If I Fall-Technoblade

This is a Technoblade x gn!reader in the dreamsmp

Check out my Masterlist here

What was supposed to be a simple mining trip goes horribly wrong when Y/N doesn’t pay attention to their surroundings.

Y/N’s POV

“Be careful” Techno warned, pressing a kiss to my forehead and then one to my lips. I couldn’t help the smile that graced my face, “Will do,” I responded softly, kissing my boyfriend once more before checking to make sure I had all I needed for my trip. Food, wood, torches, and my netherite pickaxe.

When Techno and I had moved out of L’Manberg, a lot of his things were taken before we could pack it up, including his many stacks of diamonds. Techno had a lot to do at our new snowy home, so I offered to go mining for us. Techno was hesitant at first, but after assuring him multiple times I would be fine, he agreed and made me an enchanted netherite pickaxe that had Efficiency V, Fortune III, Unbreaking III, and Mending on it so that it would let me mine faster and wouldn’t break in the middle of my trip.

“You have everything?” Techno asked softly. I nodded with a bright smile, “I do!” I chirped brightly. “Okay… I’ll see you in a few hours?” I hummed in confirmation, “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Techno leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against my lips, I immediately kissed back. A few moments passed before I forced myself to pull away, knowing I would never leave if I didn’t. “I love you so much” I murmured to the pink haired man. A soft blush fell on Techno’s cheeks. Techno pulled me in for a quick hug, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I love you too, love. More than you’ll ever know.”

Techno released me from the hug causing me to let out a sigh. I took a few steps down into the mine before turning and waving to my boyfriend who remained at the tops of the steps. He immediately smiled softly and waved back. “Bye baby” “Bye love”. Another sigh escaped my lips as I turned back around and continued down the steps, further into the earth.

It didn’t take me too long to get to level 12. I immediately got to work on strip mining. I hit many patches of coal, redstone, iron, and many other ores, but no diamonds. I had been down in the mine for about an hour at this point and had yet to find what I actually came down here for. Which is why I was so excited when the next piece of stone I removed opened a hole to a ravine.

I slightly thanked whoever was above for this. This is the break I was looking for. I quickly removed the other piece of stone that blocked my path and immediately rushed into the ravine. I looked around, making sure to note where the lava was so that I didn’t accidentally walk into it or fall. I quickly decorated my opening with torches so I would be able to tell where I came from so I wouldn’t get lost. After only a few moments in the ravine, I found what I was looking for. “DIAMONDS!” I screeched in victory, rushing toward the patch embedded in the wall of the ravine.

I quickly mined the diamonds and watched with glee as they kept going. Once I was done with the patch, I had acquired 24 diamonds. I let out an excited squeal as I moved further down the ravine to search for more. Another patch came into view and I ran up to it with excitement. I was so absorbed in my excitement of finding diamonds, that I didn’t hear the drop behind me. Maybe had I heard the telltale sizzling of the creeper that had fallen behind, I wouldn’t have taken so much damage. But I didn’t. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. The creeper had exploded, sending me forward into the stone hole I had made. My face smashed off of the hard wall and much like the creeper, my back exploded in pain. I couldn’t help the scream that escaped my lips at the blast.

I took a few moments to take some deep breaths before slowly standing up and crawling out of the hole. My legs shook under my weight. “Oh fuck,” I breathed out, my eyes scanning the ravine. A lot of mobs had spawned. A lot of them were ignoring me, but due to the explosion, some had turned to look and found me. As fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast, I turned and limped back toward where I came from, my eyes scanning the wall for my torches.

The sound of footsteps hitting the ground sounded behind me as mobs dropped from above to chase me. My breath quickly as I slowly began to panic. Icy hot fear ran through me as I realized one fatal thing that I had forgotten on my journey. A sword. A bow. An axe. Literally any weapon to protect myself. I forgot it. I didn’t think that I would need it… I’m so dumb sometimes.

The groan of a zombie grew closer and closer. A sharp pain shot through my shoulder as something hit it. I let out a whimper as I turned around and found a zombie right behind me. I took a deep breath and punched the zombie as hard as I could, causing it to stumble back, giving me enough time to escape.

My eyes caught sight of the many torches that outlined my entrance to the ravine causing me to almost cry in relief. I whimpered as I limped faster toward my safe haven, but once again, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder. This pain though caused me to scream. I looked at my shoulder and found an arrow sticking through it, almost causing me to faint. I willed the thought away, knowing that if I did faint, I was a goner and would lose a life. I gritted my teeth and threw myself in the hole I created earlier, immediately turning around to block the path with cobblestone.

Once I knew I was safe, I allowed the tears that had built in my eyes to fall. Everything hurt so much. I had such a long walk back to the stairs out of the mine and then I would have to walk 50 blocks up and 50 blocks home. I placed down a single piece of cobble and took a seat to try and compose myself. I pulled out some of the food I had packed from my inventory.

As I ate, my hand brushed against my nose and when I pulled it away, blood coated my hand letting me know my nose was in fact bleeding from the impact of the wall. The food helped me feel a tiny, and I really mean tiny, bit better. I mentally assessed what was happening in my shoulder before deciding it would be best to leave the arrow in my shoulder so that I wouldn’t bleed out on my way back, no matter how uncomfortable it was. I also made sure to check my inventory and was happy to find the diamonds I had mined safe in my care. I had only found about 40 but there was no way I was spending more time down here to look for more.

After taking the time I needed to calm myself, I slowly stood up and began my long walk back to the stairs. The journey took me about an hour and a half. I had to take it really slow due to my injuries. But I made it to the stairs nonetheless. I almost cried staring up at them though. It took me another half an hour to climb the stairs that normally would have taken no longer than 10 minutes to climb.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, I was exhausted. I couldn’t walk anymore, but I had to. The house was about 50 blocks away. For some reason we decided to keep the mine and the house separate and now I cursed that decision. I stared at the warm house and almost sobbed at the sight. “TECHNO!” I screamed as loud as I could. The pink headed man was on the front porch doing something. At the sound of my scream the man immediately dropped what he was doing and booked it toward the mine. “Y/N!” He yelled in return.

My legs quivered as he drew closer and when he was right in front of me, they gave out completely. Techno caught me and pulled me as close as he could to his chest, keeping in mind the arrow that was poking from my shoulder. “What happened?!” He questioned in a panic, his eyes scanning over my body. “Mobs.” I whimpered, clutching his shoulders tightly. “I told you to be careful, damnit” He hissed, scooping my legs into his arms and carrying me bridal style to the house. “I was,” I whimpered. My body must have sensed that I was now in a safe place because my vision went black and I completely collapsed into Techno’s arms.

*Small Time Skip*

My shoulder’s cold. That was the first thing I could think of when I came too. What’s on my shoulder? I let out a groan as my eyes fluttered open. I wasn’t in the mine or outside in the snow. I was in Techno and my shared bedroom. I slowly turned my head to look at my shoulder. The arrow had been removed and it was now wrapped in gauze and an ice pack sat on top of it. My throat was dry and my body ached, less than it did, but I was still sore. “Techno?” I croaked, hoping he could hear me.

I didn’t have to wait long. The door swung open within seconds and there stood my pink headed boyfriend. “Y/N” He breathed, rushing toward the side of my bed. He leaned down and pressed a sweet and careful kiss to my lips before kneeling down beside me, clutching my hand tightly. “You scared the hell out of me,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered back. Techno let out a small sigh before kissing my hand again. “Don’t be sorry love. It’s not your fault. I should have gone with you or sent you with better protection.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes lovingly, “It’s not your fault” I playfully mocked, bringing his hand to my mouth and kissing it. Techno chuckled deeply at my statement.

“How are you feeling?” He questioned, standing up slightly, his eyes glancing over my injuries. “Okay” I told him, “I’m a bit sore, but okay. I could use a glass of water,” I hinted. Techno chuckled and nodded, “On it,” He quickly left the room and returned with a glass of water. My boyfriend held the glass to my lips and helped me drink. Once I was done, he set the glass down on the nightstand. “Anything else?” he asked. I slowly extended my arms and made grabby hands. Techno laughed and got the hint, crawling in bed beside me. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around me, making sure that what he was doing wasn’t causing me any pain. Once he was sure I was okay, he pulled me close to his chest, pressing kisses on my head. I giggled at the feeling and allowed myself to relax in his arms.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” I whispered. Techno hummed, “Anytime love. I’ll always be there for you. Just try not to scare me like that again. When you fell… I just felt my heart stop. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” I nodded slowly into his chest, “I’m glad you were there to catch me when I fell. My legs just gave out. It took me so long to get back up from the mine and I was so tired…” “I’ll always be there to catch you when you fall. Just don’t make a habit of it.” The two of us shared a laugh about that. “I promise,” I murmured, letting out a yawn. “You’re tired, you should sleep more. I’ll still be here when you wake.” Techno murmured in my ear. I let out a tired hum and nodded. “Okay… I love you” “I love you too… so much”

There you have it! I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, be sure to leave a like!!

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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years

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my darkest nights

A post 5.01 sort of speculation fic

Eddie makes it back home after the shift from hell and is grateful that he escaped Buck's persistent questioning - until a nightmare wakes him up and Buck shows up at his front door anyways. Because of course he does.

2,877 words

AO3 link

Eddie’s never been more grateful to be so exhausted after a shift. He’s never found himself standing in the locker room, staring at the slope of Buck’s slumped shoulders, the weight of his head pulling him down, and feeling grateful for it. He slips out of the locker rooms and to his truck without anyone noticing—everyone worn too close to the bone to focus on anything other than stripping off their uniforms and leaving for their respective homes.

What was supposed to be a 12-hour shift had turned into a 24-hour shift that dragged on, the ransomware attack sending first responders all over the city, wild goose chase after wild goose chase after literal wild goose chase. All the while Buck’s eyes rarely left Eddie. Normally, Eddie felt comforted by Buck’s constant presence, the way his eyes never strayed too far from him, especially when he found himself retreating into his head too much on calls.

But ever since the hospital—ever since running into Dr. Salazar—Buck’s eyes on him weren’t gentle and reassuring, equal parts check in with me and I’m checking in with you. They were worried and persistent and they made the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up.

By the time the power had been restored and the team had been cut loose, even Buck was too tired to chase Eddie down.

For the most part, Eddie is grateful, as he pulls into his driveway at 9 am, walking into his house and finding it quiet and empty. He’s thankful that he decided to leave Christopher with Pepa the day before, not knowing that his half shift would turn into a full shift from hell. For a moment he considers stopping in the kitchen to clear out the fridge of all the food that was definitely spoiled during the city-wide blackout, but his body screams for his bed and he listens.

He’s grateful when he pulls the curtains shut, switches off all the lights, and slips under the covers.

He’s grateful. Until the darkness settles around him again, until the sheets wrap themselves too tight around his body, until his eyes fly open and he finds himself searching frantically through the dark for a pair of wide, equally startled blue eyes.

He’s grateful until he realizes that he’s alone.

It’s not a panic attack that wakes him up—because Eddie doesn’t panic—but it takes him 10 minutes to get his heart rate back down. This sleep pattern is becoming painfully familiar to him, like finding an old t-shirt in the back of his closet that he hasn’t worn in 5 or so years, the material tight and constricting around his shoulders and chest. It’s 11:45 in the morning and he knows that trying to fall back asleep is useless, so he takes a quick shower and decides to clean out the fridge anyways.

When there’s a knock on his front door 30 minutes later, Eddie thinks he really shouldn’t be surprised.

But he still is when he pulls open the door and finds Buck standing in front of him, curls fresh and wet against his forehead, the circles under his eyes no less prominent than they were three hours ago. The spike of annoyance is almost immediate because Eddie knows that Buck got just about as much sleep as he did—if not less—and it was Eddie’s fault.

“Buck,” He starts to say, ready to wave him off again, turn him around on his porch and shove him back towards his jeep.

“I—is Christopher here?” Buck cuts him off, eyes darting over his shoulder. Eddie presses his lips together and shakes his head gently.

“He’s with Pepa,” He starts again but this time it’s Buck’s body that cuts him off, shoving his shoulder between Eddie and the doorway, pushing his way into Eddie’s house before he’s even had the opportunity to protest.

“What the hell is going on, Eddie?” Buck’s long legs make easy work of the distance between Eddie’s doorway to his kitchen and Eddie follows right on his heels, helpless and frustrated.

“Nothing’s going on, Buck. I told you to drop it.”

“Well I can’t, Eddie,” Buck says emphatically, spinning around and leaning back against Eddie’s counter. He pauses for a moment, wide eyes searching Eddie’s face before they drop to the floor. His fingers fumble with the hem of his sweatshirt and Eddie’s struck by how small he looks, shoulders hunched, bent inward.

He knows Buck pushes because he cares. Hell, if it were the other way around and Eddie had found out Buck had been to see a cardiologist and didn’t tell him, he wouldn’t have ever let them leave the hospital without finding out why. But Buck can’t know about this—whatever it is. Because Buck won’t drop it even after he finds out and all Eddie wants to do is move forward. He doesn’t get why no one else understands that.

“It wasn’t anything serious, Buck,” He tries again, but the way Buck stares back at him makes him feel like his body’s made of glass.

“Because if it was you would tell me?”

Eddie swallows. He holds Buck’s gaze and nods, a jerky aborted movement, before averting his eyes.

“Good, because four months ago you got shot.” Eddie ignores the way his entire body tenses as Buck continues. “And then you sat in the hospital room and told me that if anything ever happened to you I would be Christopher’s legal guardian.”

He doesn’t say anything and when he looks up again Buck has taken a step closer. He hovers over Eddie slightly, eyes soft and imploring.

“If something happens to you, I need to know. I want to know.”

“It was—it wasn’t a heart attack,” Eddie says quietly.

“But you thought it was.”

“The doctor said…they think it was a panic attack.” Eddie’s stomach twists at the gentle recognition that crosses Buck’s face. He’s not surprised in the slightest. Eddie can picture him easily, back at his loft, sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, searching google for an explanation as to why Eddie would think he was having a heart attack if he wasn’t.

Realistically, Buck probably knew what was up while they were still in the hospital. But if Eddie can just pretend for a little longer—

“You don’t agree with them,” Buck says eventually and Eddie feels heat crawl up the back of his neck.

“I don’t panic,” He says as a reflex, the words familiar, having taken up residency on the tip of his tongue over the last couple of days. But the moment they’re out in the air, the moment he says them to Buck, he knows he’s lost the battle.

“Everybody panics.”

“I don’t.”

“Eddie, you got shot—”

“Why does everyone want to talk about that?” Eddie can’t keep the frustration from bleeding out into his words, not even through his gritted teeth. “I lived. I lived and he...he’s dead. I’ve moved on, why can’t everyone else?”

Eddie’s eyes are wide and frantic as he looks at Buck, pleading, and for a second Buck gets a glimpse at Eddie as a child. He gets a glimpse at Eddie before he closed himself off, before he was taught to build up walls around his heart, before he learned to shove every emotion down further and further until the only thing left was his ability to move forward. Before he learned how to control.

He reaches his hand out, settling it firmly on Eddie’s shoulder, thumb skipping over the pulse point in his neck.

“Eddie, it happened. Just because you don’t talk about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. I—I watched you almost die, Eds.”

“But I didn’t,” Eddie repeats, voice small.

“And I’m really fucking glad you didn’t,” Buck agrees on an exhale. “I get that you want to move on but until you actually talk about what happened, you’re not going to be able to.”

Buck hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching Eddie’s face. Eddie stares back at him and eventually, Buck sucks in his bottom lip and drops his hand from Eddie’s shoulder. He steps back against the counter, looking down at his hands.

“Eddie, you’ve been through a lot. You’ve seen things that most people don’t even think to worry about. It all adds up, you know?”

“But I’m used to it—it’s not the first time I’ve almost died,” Eddie says and Buck does his best not to flinch, the way he always does when Eddie casually mentions his own mortality, the number of times he’s stared death in the face only to turn his back on it and fight in the opposite direction. He takes a deep breath and pushes back from the counter, turning and slowly making his way towards Eddie’s kitchen table.

“You know, I still talk to Dr. Copeland about what happened that day, sometimes,” Buck pulls out a chair and slowly sinks down into it, his joints cracking as he does. He looks up at Eddie, who feels frozen in place, struck by the realization that it’s been four months and this is the first time Buck has ever actually mentioned the shooting, the first time he’s ever talked about it as something that happened to him too.

“For weeks I couldn’t look in the mirror because I—I would remember standing in the hospital bathroom after they took you in and seeing…your blood everywhere.”

Buck’s words settle in the pit of Eddie’s stomach like a rock. He wants to say something gentle and encouraging, but his throat feels tight, like it’s closing up on itself, and all he can do is stare back at Buck.

“Some nights I still have nightmares where I wake up and I can feel your blood on my hands. Or—or sometimes I wake up and in my dream…we never made it to the hospital. Or I’m frozen and I watch you die in the street. And it takes everything in me not to call you and make sure you’re alright. That you’re still alive.”

Eddie eventually makes his way to the chair opposite Buck, sliding into it with robotic, stilted movements that feel like they’re made by someone other than himself.

“I didn’t know,” He says quietly, and Buck regards him with a face full of guilt and pain.

“I knew you didn’t want to talk about it. But…maybe I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry,” Buck says and Eddie’s face twists.

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Buck.”

“The point is, no matter how much time has passed, I still think about that day. And I wasn’t the one who got shot.”

Eddie’s jaw works and lets his eyes fall to the table, trying to find something else to focus on, his heartbeat rattling in his chest. He traces the surface, noting all of the different dings and marks in the wood, the water stains from years of use, from years of living. He doesn’t remember the story behind each mark—some of them weren’t even made by him (or Christopher, or Buck, or anyone else they know). The table was a late-night purchase off of Facebook one of the first nights Eddie spent alone in their house. He remembers feeling a great sense of pride when he made the purchase like he was finally moving forward, achieving something for himself and for Christopher, doing the right thing. And then he remembers the deep sense of dread and loneliness that washed over him immediately after. A table was something he and Chris needed, but Eddie wasn’t used to furniture shopping alone. He couldn’t help but think about how Shannon would’ve hated the table he chose—and she told him as much when she eventually saw it.

He remembers Shannon and the way she had suddenly fallen back into his life, like a rare kind of meteor, a once in a lifetime kind of thing, crashing through the sky, fiery and fierce, ripping through the ozone layer and leaving a crater in its wake. That’s how he felt when Shannon died—torn and empty.

That’s how he felt in the months after the shooting, too. Even as he fought to get up each morning, fought to go to physical therapy, fought through his mandated counseling sessions, fought to regain mobility so he could get some sense of independence back, so that he didn’t feel so useless in his own home.

None of it cured the emptiness. Not even when he reached his hand out some nights and felt the warmth of Ana’s body next to him. Not even when she held him in her arms, ran her fingers through his hair. He doesn’t feel anything.

Or—maybe that’s not true. Maybe he does feel something, something he’s just been ignoring—an uneasiness deep in the pit of his stomach. An uneasiness that spreads, slow and quiet until suddenly it’s taken over his whole body—panic.

He does his best to ignore it but nothing soothes it—and maybe that’s what he’s been doing this whole time. Trying to soothe the ache, the fear. Reaching for the things he thought would bring him comfort, would help him move on. And acknowledging this pain and panic means that it’s not working. None of it’s working. Not this, ignore it and move on mentality, not this relationship with Ana. Because it’s all connected, isn’t it?

Three days before Eddie got shot in the street, Carla reached across the table and took his hand, and told him to be sure he was following his heart. Three days later he was bleeding out on the street, eyes locked with Buck’s, the two moments twisted and tied together in his history, a knot so tight Eddie didn’t think he could ever untie them.

Looking back up at Buck, Eddie remembers the dream he woke up from earlier. The dream itself isn’t important—it was just one in an endless sea of scenarios that have blended together into one long continuous nightmare; an empty street, a shot in the air, fire, blood, screaming, mud, water, gasping for air—but Eddie remembers what he was searching for when he woke up.

Blue eyes, equally startled.

“I don’t,” Eddie says suddenly, his voice surprising him. He pauses, looks back down at his hands. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Buck asks quietly. His hands slide across the table and hesitate just for a moment before they cover Eddie’s own. The relief is almost instant—not total but enough.

“Ask for help,” Eddie responds. Buck squeezes his hands and he looks back up at him. He swallows, hard, at the sight of Buck’s wide, pale blue eyes staring back at him. Eddie could get lost in them. Eddie wants to get lost in them. He thinks he could be safe there.

“You just did.”

It takes a moment for Eddie to realize he’s crying. It takes him even longer to realize this is the first time he’s ever cried in front of Buck. But after everything they’ve gone through, after this whole conversation, he can’t find it in him to feel ashamed of it. Especially not when Buck’s looking at him with nothing but sincerity and honesty in his eyes. And it hits him then that Buck loves him.

Eddie thinks maybe this is what it’s like to be loved in your entirety. He’s not sure he’s ever felt anything like it before. He doesn’t have time just yet to unpack the way it feels to have Buck look at him like that, to feel like he’s been cracked down the middle and opened up to reveal every ugly vulnerability and be met with nothing but love.

But it feels right. It feels like a step forward. A step in the right direction.

Eventually, he’ll have to go back to therapy. He’ll have to unpack the events from that day, the anger he never let himself feel, the fear that his life was about to be cut short, the regret he felt staring across the 20 feet of asphalt at Buck, covered in his blood.

He’ll have to talk to Christopher because he knows his son is too attentive for his own good, and if his trip to the hospital taught him anything (and it taught him a lot) it was that Christopher had no intention of playing along with this charade Eddie had going, and he saw right through it.

He’ll have to talk to Ana. He’ll have to confront the fact that when he searches for comfort in the middle of the night, in the midst of his panic, he doesn’t find it in the shape of her body, but in the image of Buck.

One day, he’ll have to face those feelings head-on. He’ll have to untangle this web of repression and fear, the threads of which had been spun so long before Eddie was ever aware that they’re practically embedded in his DNA.

But for now, he finds peace in his kitchen, his hands in Buck’s, blue eyes on his.

And he feels safe here. If only for the moment.

#starry eyes and all that #writing #911 fox #buddie #my fic #one day i'll go through and tag all of my fics but that day is not today #this might be bad but it’s the first complete thing i’ve written since uh…july! so

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

(dont) take this the wrong way (5)

warnings: injury, blood mentions, past psychological&emotional&physical abuse, ptsd, sickness

Virgil woke up, which was only unsurprising for the few moments it took him to 1. realize that his head was pounding and 2. remember the two very large reasons why.

His eyes flew open, and he found himself half-submerged in a shallow pool of cool water, surrounded by flat ledges of dry rock. The sound of ocean waves lapping against the cliffside echoed around the cavern, which was dimly lit by overhead cracks in the ceiling.

In one of these beams of paltry light, Logan was slumped over on his side, glasses askew. Virgil’s relief at seeing him was instantly overshadowed by terror at what could have happened to the human after Virgil had gone and gotten his skull knocked against rock.

His headache worsened, and he lifted a hand to press against the sore spot, pausing when he found more of those stiff bandage strips wrapped around his head.

The soft sloshing of water seemed to be enough to startle Logan into wakefulness, and the human brightened slightly at the sight of him. “Virgil. It’s good to see you awake. Are you feeling any pain or nausea?”

“What happened?” Virgil replied in lieu of the real answer, which was ‘everything hurts’. “Where are we, I thought we were dead for sure—!”

“Take a few deep breaths,” Logan advised, shuffling closer to the pool and offering a hand. Virgil took it gratefully. “We’re not currently in any danger. I believe we’re at the home of the seal-hybrid mer, if—“

“We’re what?!” Virgil’s voice dropped to a horrified double pitch, his grip on Logan’s hand instantly turning crushing.

“Ow,” Logan said in a pointed monotone. Virgil eased up before his claws could turn the human’s palm into bloody ribbons. “Let me finish, please. I’ve managed to work out a rudimentary method of communication, and as far as I know, we’re not currently at risk.”

“From the giant mer-eating monsters that literally kidnapped us, you mean?”

“Yes, that was the potential risk I was referring to.” Logan pulled Virgil further upright, reaching out with his free hand. “More importantly, you’ve been out for some time. Will you allow me to take a look at your injury?”

Virgil shuffled a little closer, allowing the hand to make contact with him. He had traversed currents of all temperatures, but in chilled still waters like this, Logan’s warmth was more than welcome. “I dunno how that’s more important than our inevitable, rapidly-approaching deaths, but sure, fine. Knock yourself out.”

“I will not? You are already dealing with a likely concussion, I see no reason to double that number.” Logan squinted at him like he was concerned that the head wound had taken a worse toll than he’d thought.

“No, it’s-- it’s just an expression. Don’t actually pass out, or I’ll freak out.”

“Ah,” Logan acknowledged, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab something before returning to carefully peeling the bandages away. “My apologies. Colloquialisms are not my strong suit.”

Virgil blinked back at him, because five syllable words were a little much even when he wasn’t concussed. “No worries?”

Logan continued to gently probe the back of his head. A sharp pang made him jerk away with a muted hiss, his vision blurring with pain as the sharp motion only agitated all his other cuts. He waved off Logan’s apology before it was fully formed. “S’fine. What’s the damage?”

“The bleeding has stopped, which is a good sign. It’s swelled significantly, but the cool water is hopefully helping reduce that as well. The best course of action now is for you to rest and recover in a dark, quiet place, ideally for at least two full days.”

“Yeah, but that’s not happening unless we get away first,” Virgil shot back, irritably twitching his fins down as Logan rewrapped the injury. The human let out a slow breath.

“Virgil. I believe the situation isn’t as dire as you think.” He settled back on his heels, back stiff as he spoke. “Our captors have shown no signs of aggression or hunger, even with the significant bleeding from your head wound. It’s possible--”

“It’s not possible!” Virgil cut him off, scowling fiercely. “That doesn’t mean anything. They’re playing some kind of sick game the way they always do, and if you let them trick you, you’re going to lose!”

Logan looked back at him inquisitively, still not getting it. “What evidence are you basing this off of? I was under the impression that you’ve spent only marginally more time in their company than me. Have they attempted to trick you in the past?”

“Yes, no, I mean--,” Virgil groaned, pulling at his bangs. “They don’t have to say it. That’s just how giants like them operate. We’re smaller, they can do what they want to us, we don’t get a say in it. You escape or you die.”

“Yet, we’ve been in their admittedly less-than-ideal care for over 24 hours, and they haven’t hurt us or made any indications they intend to hurt us.” Logan gestured expansively, his hand a bit wobbly. “That’s a rather long time to pretend, and for what purpose? If it was what they desired, we have been easy targets for a meal from the moment they relocated us.”

A rather long time to pretend. Virgil swallowed down a hysterical laugh, feeling dizzy. If a day of false niceties was all it took to buy his trust, he’d have never gotten away from his first encounter with a giant mer. “You’re— you’re human. You don’t know anything about this.”

Logan frowned. “I may be human, but that does not make me an idiot. Even with a language barrier, body language and expression are invaluable tools for communication, and I’ve been doing very little but observe them while you were unconscious. Virgil, if you just tried talking to them—“

“No!” he snapped, curling in even as his fins flared wide and threatening. He wouldn’t do this again, wouldn’t be subjected to the world’s most torturous game of catch and release, wouldn’t be lured back into too-tight hands by false promises and meaningless apologies. He couldn’t do that again.

Measured, rhythmic tapping on the back of his hand slowly brought him back to the present, cool air and Logan’s steady voice by his side. His throat was closed-up-too-tight, his gills too far out of the water to switch lungs— but the rhythm was counted out over and over, breathe in, hold, and out.

“There you go,” Logan said as Virgil took in another long, shuddering drag of air. “Well done.”

The air smelled like iron. He realized that somewhere in the past few minutes, he’d dug his claws into the soft sides of the human’s hand, drawing blood. He pulled away as though he’d been burned.

Logan didn’t even twitch, still searching his gaze intently. “Are you with me?”

Virgil nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I— fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I didn’t realize— but I should have.” A deep, resolved breath. “It’s okay. I’ll find you a way out that doesn’t involve interacting with them.” Logan’s gaze went distant and hazy with thought, and Virgil hesitantly drew closer, pulling a bandage free to wrap around his bleeding hand.

… He was really warm. Clammy, too, and he’d been sitting in a cold, wet cave for hours, hadn’t he? Had been completely drenched for even longer.

“You’re sick,” Virgil said, and Logan took a moment too long to refocus on him. How had it taken him so long to notice? “That’s why you need me to talk to them. You need to get home.”

“My illness is no more severe than your injuries,” he deflected, adjusting his glasses clumsily. “Right now, the priority is getting you away from triggering circumstances. If my suspicions are correct, I will be fine regardless.”

Right. His suspicions, based on his willingness to trust his own abductors. He’d trusted Virgil, too, back in those tunnels. He’d known that he might be abandoned and he’d freed Virgil anyways, taken his hand anyways. Gotten hurt for his trouble.

He’d get hurt worse if Virgil left him here.

“... Yeah,” Virgil said, tucking the edge of the bandage in carefully. “But you should sleep for now. We both should. You said they haven’t done anything yet, right?”

“Yes, but…,” Logan’s brow was furrowed slightly, as though he knew something was off, but wasn’t quite sure what. “I mean, you do need rest. If… If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Virgil replied, curling against the edge of the pool and pillowing his head on his arms to hide their shaking. “Get some sleep, Specs.”

—

It was early morning when Patton woke to the splash of something small dropping into the water from his air room.

The room wasn’t overly large, being designed only for occasional use when he needed some extra oxygen in his system. It was also quite a few caves up above his sleeping den, but with two delicate little guests staying over, his senses were on high alert. He disentangled from Roman, who had been clinging to him for extra warmth, waking the shark mer in the process.

“Mwha’huh?” he asked groggily, and Patton chuckled at the way one side of his hair had been pressed into a tangled bundle.

“I think they may be awake!” he reported quietly, and Roman perked right up. They had originally hovered in the room over the two of them, only leaving after the human-- busy tending to the tiny mer’s wounds-- had gotten too fed up and used charades to shoo them away, leaving them with nothing to do but sit around and think about how badly they’d messed up. As such, they were both more than eager to start fixing things.

Upon popping up into the air room, however, they found only the human, lying completely still apart from the slow rise and fall of his chest. Deep in sleep, with an empty pool at his side.

Roman and Patton exchanged a panicked look, and ducked back underwater to search through his home and see where, exactly, the injured mer had gone.

It didn’t take long to spot him. The mer had practically every fin and frill puffed out, even the ones that were still injured. The threat display as eye-catching as they got.

He was hovering in the opening of a vent crevice, one that helped circulate seawater through the caves. It was small enough that if he vanished through it, they wouldn’t be able to stop him or see where he was headed. He knew it, too, staring them down with sharp defiance rather than absolute terror.

“Don’t move,” he said, as though they hadn’t both frozen at the sight of him. “I’m going to-- to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?” Roman asked, and received a sharp, wild-eyed glare for his troubles.

“Yeah, a deal. The other one is sick,” a slight jerk of the head toward the air room, “so he won’t last long here. Probably already too far gone to even play a single game.”

Patton was torn between concern (the human was sick?) and confusion. Game?

“But I’m fine. I’ve had much worse than this.” The mer drifted back slightly, closer to the crevice. “If I leave now, you’ll never find me, and then Lo-- the human will die, and you won’t have anything to play with.”

A creeping sense of dread overcame Patton. He still didn’t know what was going on, but it was sounding more and more like something was seriously wrong here.

“So, a deal. You take the human back to where you found him, and I’ll stay-- I’ll stay here,” his voice cracked painfully, but he ignored it, staring at them with a desperate sort of intensity. “With you. I won’t try to get away or anything. I-- I swear.”

“Get away?” Roman asked, his voice going high with the same sort of horror that currently swamping Patton. The mer ducked back at the sound, gaze flitting between them, some of that terror returning.

“I will! I’ll leave, if you-- you can either have one or none, that’s the deal, I’m not kidding. I’m not!” His fins flared wider, blood beginning to leak from some of them. “He’s human anyways, he can barely even swim, you don’t want him--”

“Kiddo,” Patton cut in urgently, raising his hands peacefully and trying not to wince when the mer flinched, “if he’s sick, of course we’ll take him back to where he can get help. No deals necessary, okay?”

The little guy didn’t look reassured at all. “I want to watch. I have to see you put him back, where other humans will find him, or else the deal’s off.”

He didn't believe them. Patton exchanged a helpless look with Roman, who finally nodded.

“Of course,” the shark mer said, “You are more than welcome to accompany us back to the mainland where Patton found him, provided that you’re not exacerbating your injuries.”

The mer hissed at him, a tiny, reedy sound. “And whose fault is that?”

“Irresponsible human fishing vessels?” Roman tried, and then wilted under both Patton and the mer’s looks when the joke fell flat. He cleared his throat. “It is, of course, mine. I wanted to apologize for the way I manhandled you before. Regardless of my intentions, it was unbefitting behavior, and it hurt you. I am truly sorry.”

He bowed with a little flourish, moving slower than normal. The mer stared at his bowed head apprehensively, and then covered the look up with a distrustful scowl.

“If you’re sorry, get Logan out of this place before he gets any worse,” he finally replied, and Patton nodded and went to retrieve the human-- Logan, presumably.

Glancing over his shoulder as he left, he could see the way the tiny mer’s fins had settled just slightly, not quite as frantically overextended as before.

It was a start.

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #mermaid au #my writing #dont take this the wrong way #dtttww #writing #g/t #virgil sweetie what the fuck #- logan next chapter

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natbarzal · 3 years

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Mathew Barzal - Always and forever

hi guys! first of all, sorry for not posting an imagine for so long, I literally had no ideas😅

this is one of my longer pieces and I think it's quite good, so I hope you'll like it!

warnings: unplanned pregnancy

word count: 1.8k

he's so gorgeous wtf

anyway, enjoy! and please don't hesitate to give me some feedback! 💙

_________________________________________

Y/n's pov:

"Baby?" I asked Mat and looked at him as we were having a breakfast in our kitchen together.

"Yeah?" Mat responded, not looking up from his phone that he was probably scrolling through Instagram on at the moment. I hesitated for a minute, looking back down at the half eaten meal on my plate before speaking up again.

"What do you, clearly hypothetically, think about the idea of.. having kids?" I asked as I started picking at my food, my heart beating hard in my chest. When I got no answer from Mat, I looked up at him to find him looking at me with raised eyebrows.

"What?" I questioned. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the table then back into my eyes as he started to speak.

"Well um.. I mean, kids are great and everything, and I would love to have children of my own at some point in the future for sure, but I think we're still a bit young for that, you know? I mean, you just turned 23 and I'm turning 24 next month." he said and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah.. yeah sure, you're right. We've got plenty of time." I said with a nervous laugh, hoping he wouldn't suspect anything.

"Why were you asking anyway?" he asked as he turned his attention back to his phone.

"As I said, just hypothetically." I said, forcing a little smile. He hummed before locking his phone and standing up from the table, taking his plate to the sink and finishing his coffee.

"Well I gotta go now, see you after the practice?" he asked as he came closer to me to peck my lips.

"Sure."

"I love you." he said, winking at me and giving me a cheeky smile as he walked backwards out of the kitchen.

"I love you too."

After Mat left, I sat at the table by myself for another 15 minutes, thinking about what I was going to do.

'At some point in the future'

Little did he know the point would come in less than eight months.

"So, have you told Mat yet?" Lauren, Jordan's wife, asked me excitedly while we were standing outside of the locker room after a game, waiting for our men to come out. I didn't say anything and just looked at her, the guilty look in my eyes giving the answer away.

"Y/n! Why haven't you told him yet? It'll start showing soon you know." she scolded me slightly and I looked down at my shoes, picking nervously at my nails.

"I know. It's just.. I'm scared." I admitted quietly as I picked my head up to look at her again.

"Why? You know Mat would never leave you or anything. He's so head over heels for you!" she tried to reason but I shook my head, feeling my eyes get a little watery. Hormones.

"How can you be so sure? I actually asked him what he thought about having kids and he said he doesn't want them yet! That we're too young and.. I'm just scared." I whispered the last part as I looked at her. Her eyes softened a little at my explanation and she brought me into a hug.

"You know why I'm so sure he wouldn't leave you?" she asked and rubbed my back a little in an attempt to calm me down a little.

"Why?"

"Because if he did, I would end him." she explained and I giggled. Feeling a little better, I was about to pull away from the hug when I suddenly heard a cheery voice that I quickly recognized saying "Group hug!" and I felt one strong arm wrap around me, the other being wrapped around Lauren.

"You really need to find yourself a girl, Beau." I laughed and we stayed in the hug for a bit before we all pulled away, seeing that Mat and Jordan have already come out of the locker room as well. Anthony placed his hand over his heart in fake hurt and I laughed once more, punching his shoulder in a joking manner before I felt two strong arms wrap themselves around my waist. I turned around to face Mat and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Hey babe." I said, giving him what I intended to be a sweet short kiss, but apparently he had different plans. Taking one hand from my waist, he placed it on the back of my head and kept me from pulling away, deepening the kiss. I pulled away after a few moments in need of air and Mathew whined at the loss of contact.

"What was that for?" I asked him as I blushed, trying to catch my breath.

"I missed you." he responded simply and leaned back in, kissing my nose.

"You literally saw me just a few hours ago you dork." I told him as I played with the hair on the back of his neck, looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes.

"I know, but I miss you every single minute I spend without you." he said, looking at me with, soft eyes. I felt myself blush some more, still not taking my eyes off my man.

"Wow, you flatter me Mathew Barzal."

"I try." Mat winked at me. We looked for each other for a minute before we heard someone clearing their throat, snapping us both back into reality.

"Alright, alright you lovebirds, enough with the PDA. You're so cute it makes me sick." Tito said as he made a disgusted face.

"Oh shut up Beau, you're just jealous." Mat said as we both pulled away from each other and intertwined our fingers together, laughing together with our friends as we all slowly started to make our way out of the arena.

"Go ahead honey, I'd like to talk to Y/n here for a quick minute." Lauren said, kissing her husband and letting go off his arm that she was previously holding onto.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, looking at his wife.

"Yeah, don't worry. Just some girl stuff." she told him. He nodded and looked at Mat who looked at me with concern in his eyes.

"Go babe. I'll catch up in 5." I assured Mat, giving him a quick peck on his lips and he nodded, turning around and walking over to where our cars were parked with Tito and Jordan. I took a breath and turned to look at Lauren.

"You're going to tell him tonight, right?" she asked, looking right at me. I stayed quiet for a moment before answering.

"Yeah.. probably." I said as I have her a tight lipped smile. She smiled back at me sympathetically.

"Alright, although I'm 99,9% sure everything is going to go just fine, just in case doesn't, you can always come to mine and Jordan's place, okay?" she offered.

"Thank you." I nodded and gave her an appreciative smile.

"Good luck." she said with a smile and gave me a quick hug. I mumbled a faint 'thanks' and we pulled away. After that we caught up with our men, saying our goodbyes as we all went to our respective cars.

"What was that about?" Mat asked me as we got into our car.

"Nothing. Don't worry." I said, but he just looked at me in a way that told me he definitely didn't believe me.

"Babe I know you better than I know myself. Just tell me." he looked at me with gentle eyes and reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together.

"We'll talk once we get home, yeah?" I offered. He looked at me for a moment with concern still visible on features and then he nodded, bringing my hand up to his lips and kissing my knuckles before starting the car.

The whole car ride home was silent except for the faint sound of music playing. I was looking our of the window the entire time, trying to think of a way to tell Mat what I had to, Mathew giving me concerned glances here and there through the ride.

"Alright, we're talking." Mat said immediately after he closed the door of our apartment behind himself, only stopping to drop his hockey bag and take off his shoes before he took my hand and dragged me over to the couch in our living room. He sat down on it and looked up at me expectantly. I sighed, running my hand through my hair before sitting down beside him, looking nervously at my hands in my lap.

"Promise you won't get mad?" I asked quietly, picking at my nails. Mat placed one of his hands under my chin, gently picking up my head, making me look at him.

"I promise. Please tell me Y/n, you're starting to worry me." he encouraged me, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm pregnant." I quietly blurted out, feeling tears starting to slowly appear in my eyes. Mat didn't say anything for a moment as he just looked at me, processing what I had just told him, his hand dropping from my chin.

"You're.. we're.. okay, well this is unexpected." he said, finally looking away from me and letting out a long sigh as he rubbed his face with his hand.

"I'm so sorry Mat I- I didn't mean for this to happen and I-" I started rambling as the tears slowly started to escape my eyes, but I was quickly cut off by Mathew.

"Whoa, slow down there, what are you apologising for?" he asked, wiping my tears off with his thumbs and looking at me with soft eyes.

"You're not mad?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because.. because you said the other day that you think we're still too young to have a baby and all so I just figured-" I was cut off once again, but this time by a soft kiss being placed on my lips. After we pulled away, Mat leaned his forehead on mine.

"Babe.. I'm not mad, okay? This is great, and although we weren't exactly planning it, I already know that you will be the best mom ever to our little one, and I promise I'll try to be the best dad I can possibly be. It's fine babe, it's all good. We're in this together." Mat said in a hushed voice, placing soft kisses all over my face in order to calm me down.

"I love you so much Mat." I told him, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

"I love you so much more. And I'll always be here for you and our little one, please remember that." he promised, brushing some of my hair out of my face.

"Forever and always?"

"Forever and always."

#mathew barzal #mathew barzal fic #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal

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feather-dancer · 3 years

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Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 6

I do admittedly have things left to read in my tabs I’d normally prefer to clear out before posting one of these but when you sail past the 30 mark I think it’s about time to get it out my drafts, yeah? Most importantly means this will be out before Rise of the Titans comes and emotionally destroys us all.

Needless to say soon as this is posted I give it 24 hours before 7 starts, we’ve got some amazing writers in this fandom and there’s a couple I juuust want one more chapter before I feel I can recommend it. Hope you find something you enjoy :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Romeo, Question Mark - Jim is figuring himself out and has a question for Toby though nervous of how he might react. Honestly the support Aromantic’s need when they’re either questioning or coming out, Toby is a gem.

By The Book - After his dad left changing his world Jim had moments in his life where he needed to wrangle things in a way he could understand them with some moral support along the way that wasn’t there to do it for him, just give a light nudge the right direction. Comes with light Jilaire fluff.

That I Could Fear a Door - Jim was pulled from the Darklands whole but you cannot escape the trauma of your experiences quite so easily. It will take a little time, a lot of patience and perhaps the right ear to listen but with it can come hope.

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring - Sequel to the above, Jim’s capture to be sentenced by the tribunal echoes his experiences in the Darklands a little too closely sending all his careful progress hurtling back in one fell swoop. Is it any wonder he chose a false freedom that Unkar offered?

Façade - The confirmation that Mr. Strickler is not the man you thought he was probably was not going to be an easy one, Jim’s thoughts sit ill after that dinner.

Fashion - All changelings take root somewhere in a human life before their changeling one succeeds it and Nomura is no different. She felt love she could not understand and the ache of loss will follow for as she meanders through this world by the Whisper Man’s orders and her own volition of needing to belong somewhere. She will try her hand with the humans and the trolls, paint the road with blood as much as indulging herself with the arts and even risking her heart until everything leads her to Arcadia’s doorstep.

In Deep Trouble - What happened in the Deep during Season 2?

Aftermath - Just after the finale of Season 2 the Market trolls are forced to run leaving their homes behind and follow the Trollhunter they had dismissed so many times into the great unknown before them.

Don’t think - Jim weighs up his options and attempts to settle his thoughts before making the final decision whether or not to go through with using Merlin’s potion.

Nocturne for a Trollhunter - Jim learns a new hobby that gives him another way to relax that doesn’t involve cooking, one that follows him beyond Arcadia.

The Asteroid - A rare 3Below fic for my lists if centered on a certain hedge witch and Wizard. The end of the world is coming but not by Morgana’s hand and Merlin certainly never warned Douxie about it so if this truly is the end then it’s the best time to bring your loved ones close so you won’t be going out alone. Yes it’s Zouxie.

A bright future so it seemed (but that light grew a little less bright) - Claire’s parents (Or more specifically Ophelia) set her on the perfectionist’s path early, even a little slip can feel like the end of the world

Rest, Master Jim - You might be able to escape the Darklands but you cannot escape the consequences of being trapped there for so long as easily.

General Wizards

Not Found - So why did neither Douxie or Archie find the two remaining changelings in Arcadia or bring back the sole Akiridion when Merlin asked?

Place of Power - A lovely bit of shameless Zouxie fluff in that brief period the gang was at Hex Tech before the plot came to get them.

Bitter Water - Only two of the old team remain in Arcadia and those were Jim and Krel, the rest having left to pursue educational pursuits and in one particular case kept away for Nari’s safety. For the Akiridion he is still here with reminders of his heritage and what it took to have this life on earth chasing him all the way. It’s always good to have friends with a listening ear and hot chocolate.

Together, Dearest - The very act of resting is a potential invitation for nightmares and Nari is no different but when once more in the waking world you will find you’re not alone, there are hugs available.

The Night Belongs To Us - Lovingly described Skraelroc fluff during their long hunt for Merlin and the strangeness that can be observed on clearer nights.

Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take - 900 years is a long time by anyone’s standards but perhaps during that Douxie can figure out how to truly live.

Twelfth Century Wizard, Twenty-First Century Witch - The follow up to the above, when you’ve lived a long and interesting life things can still pop up in odd ways... Even if you haven’t quite mastered the sacred art of texting yet.

ERAS TÚ (It was you). | Tales of Arcadia One-Shot - Would you want to live forever if it meant leaving everyone behind? Jilaire.

the only way for us to go - From his rescue from the streets of Camelot to the eventual guardian of this realm, Douxie has come a very, very long way. Through the frustrations of trying to learn magic, the belittling of others, the faith of Morgana and the power of music his experiences throughout 900 years truly make him what he is.

lay down your head - Even the mightiest can be plagued with the not so humble migraine. Skraelroc fluff.

Stricklake

Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake - Some Christmas gifts are worth going all out for and getting your friends and family to help out to make it extra special.

Grocery Run - After the incident where Merlin dismissed Strickler for being a changeling it is time for an excuse to get out the house for a bit and have a frank discussion about their relationship, the future beyond the incoming battle and lingering insecurities of two worlds colliding.

Alternate Universe

Fashionista, How Do You Look? - An AU that very much takes the term very literally here where everyone is human, Skrael, Bellroc and Nari are fashion designers plus many other ToA characters we know and love are either in the industry in some way themselves or on the fringes because of their jobs/who they know. Sometimes you work with catty bitches and want to kick back and watch the fireworks you know? Contains friends to almost to enemies to friends to maybe we’ll get our shit together this time but the odds aren’t great Skraelroc. There’s also a Zouxie oneshot in this collection that was a gift for meee because of the corner I dug in the AU.

Atlas, Fallen - When a star falls from the sky it is a punishment so when Atlas suddenly finds himself amongst the humans he had observed from above for countless ages in a flesh body like theirs he fears his Mother is punishing him and unable understand what he did wrong. While trying to find his way back home he gets a crash course in what it’s like to be human making friends along the way. Slow burn Jilaire.

she once was a true love of mine - I put this under the AU section even though it wavers between that and not, a mixture of classical Arthurian mythos and the glimpses of the Camelot in Tales of Arcadia where one kingdom collapses from war another strengthens by taking their princess as queen. While Arthur might have turned her head once it is the sibling that seems to be catching Gwen’s eye of late as much as her thoughts. Morgwen but in the department of pining.

Pulled From The Ocean - AU doesn’t quite fit this one but it feels a bit more fitting than general. A little oneshot snapshot of Jim living with deafness and the contrast of one world that falls easily into supporting that whereas the other tries their best but it makes the slip ups sting even more.

you are a stranger here, why have you come? - Fate is a funny old thing, something happens a little bit differently such as a father not leaving alone and everything can change so drastically. Nari’s fondness for children strikes again and this time it involves a 5-year old Jim Lake Jr. ending in the Order’s care and their foray into found family. Somehow Jim is even more of a disaster and as likely surmised from the fact I write this trope myself I am very weak for it.

go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy - Toby was unlucky in the friend department and by the time he is ten he still feels miserable and lonely having to endure Steve’s increasing bullying all the while. This is of course until he finds a blue half-troll hiding out the daylight hours munching cans in the local woods...

#trollhunters #3below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

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“It’s Alfred dayyyy” - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Every year, every single year, your family reunites to celebrate the marvel that Alfred Pennyworth is.

Because Alfred does deserve his own “holiday” really. This has been sitting in my draft for almost two years, someone send me an ask that reminded me of it and I just suddenly really wanted to write it. I hope you’ll like it :

my master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Midnight, a new day :

“And we will be waiting for you at 8 am, your mom and I forced him to sleep in, but we all know he will be awake by that time anyway.”

“Ok, I’ll pick Jaybird on my way there.”

“Jason is coming ?”

“He said he would.”

“Oh. Good.”

Dick did his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Oh. Good.” he says, as if the news didn’t make him wanna jump in joy. But of course, the Batman has a reputation to keep, if he showed too much emotions in one sitting, he’d probably explode.

The truth was that if Jason was coming...Well if Jason was coming, it meant they were finally on the road to forgiveness. And Dick knew that Bruce had been waiting a long time for this. Bruce...and everyone else really.

Especially you and Alfred.

“In any case, be there by 8. We’ll do the usual. Now that I think of it, could you maybe pick up his cake at West Side’s bakery ? Your mother was going to do it, but if you pick up Jason...I think he lives in the area ?”

Of course, Bruce knew exactly that Jason indeed lived not far from Alfred’s favorite bakery. Because he was keeping an eye on him. Not out of mistrust, or thinking he would kill again (he promised his mom, you, he would stop, but the promise was still recent, so was his return), but because...Well, it was his boy.

Ever since Bruce adopted Dick, he never stopped worrying about his kids. He never stopped trying to keep an eye on them. It got even worst after Jason’s death...He was actually overbearing many times, which lead Dick away more than once.

But he’d always be back.

Just like Jason, eventually, would be fully back.

For the moment, it was enough that he’d come by tomorrow.

For tomorrow was the one and only...”Alfred day”.

“Yeah sure, we can pick the cake up.”

“Alright. Well. I’m going home, and you lot should too. We promised Alfred, after all. An entire day without any vigilante’s business. Unless there’s an emergency of course. Good night.”

“’Night dad.”

Bruce turns to his youngest kids, expecting them to follow him, but Damian says :

“We’re right behind you, we’re just gonna hang out with Grayson a little more. Since he moved to Blüdhaven, we almost never see him...”

“Guiltripping me will not work little brother.”

“Are you sure ?”

Silence. And then Dick turns to his father :

“I’ll get them home soon, we’re gonna go get some ice cream.”

Bruce smiles, of this small genuine smile he only has when around his children. He nods, tell them not to stay out too late, and leaves, on his way back to you.

12:30 pm, Batcave.

“You are late, Master Bruce.”

“Only by half an hour. I had to see Dick before coming back. Logistic talk.”

As he speaks, Bruce takes his armor off, stretching a little after this short night full of not much happening. As if every villain in Gotham knew this day was happening, and they too would give a break to the butler (because if Bruce was resting, then Alfred could rest too).

“Well it means you’ll have to start half an hour late tomorrow, this is the deal. Where are the children ?”

“Alright. I will. And they’re getting ice cream with Dick. Now please, go to bed before she catches you up.”

“Lady (Y/N) will understand that I was making sure you are home on time.”

“She does understand yes, and she’s also telling you to go rest this instant ! You have slept even less than Bruce this past few days for god’s sake !”

Both Bruce and Alfred jumps a bit as you enter the bat cave, smiling at them. Alfred raises his hands in a sign of peace, smiles at you, gives you a kiss goodnight on your forehead (a nightly tradition, by now...you never had a dad, and Alfred took it upon him to catch up lost time), and leaves.

You turn to Bruce, and gives him your hand.

He takes it gladly, a smile on his lips. The kind he only shows when around those he loves...

A “glad you’re here” kiss, and a few words :

“You know, my favorite thing about this day is that you’re home all day long, and I don’t have to miss you...”

As usual, your words grip his heart, and his arms tighten around you. Even after years of being together, you could always make his pulse race with only a few words. Sometimes just a look...

He doesn’t resist or look back, when you give his hand a pull and leave the bat cave.

Rare were the occasions Bruce would forget about his vigilante work. In fact, only one day a year, would he completely forget about it. Because he promised. And because it was a special day.

A day to celebrate the man he came to view as his father.

Alfred day.

1 am, in “Giovanni’s 24/7 gelato” shop.

The waiter of the place didn't even blink, as he served ice creams to a bunch of kids at 1 am, in the heart of Gotham. Used to it really. Nothing in this city was like any other place. Most people were night dwellers, even children.

Probably because, thanks to a certain group of vigilante, they all felt safer when the sun was down.

“So, how did it start exactly, this Alfred day ?”

Duke asks, after taking a full scoop of his favorite ice cream, curtesy of a certain Dick grayson.

You had told Duke, about a week prior to it, that he had to clear his schedule for this particular day but didn’t really explain what it was exactly. Just that it was to celebrate Alfred. Not giving much more context.

Dick smiles, and say :

“How did it start ? Haha, oh man, it’s quite the story.”

With an annoyed sigh, Damian says :

“Just out with it already Grayson, we know, you were the only one that knew them by then blahblahblah.”

“Do I sense a hint of jealousy, little bird ?”

Damian doesn’t answer, but plants his spoon a little bit more aggressively in his gelato. Ah yes, maybe he was a tiny bit jealous that Dick had the luck to have their parents all for himself, once upon a time...Maybe.

“Well anyway, legend has it that mom chose the date.”

Dick takes a dramatic pause, making the siblings who already heard the story (so everyone but Duke) roll their eyes. Their oldest brother had a flair for dramatic retelling of past events.

“A long long time ago, on this day, when I was only 8 and just came into the family, they got into a bad fight. When I was little, before Jason came in, they got on the verge of breaking up a few times. Even did really broke up once, worst fucking time of my life, feeling like I was losing another family (A/N : referencing this story : The break-up)...”

A shot pause, this time, not for dramatics, but because the memory was genuinely painful and Dick had to take a short break. He continues :

“So anyway, on this day, a long time ago, Mom discovered how vital Alfred was to this family. She said it’d been a day where she wanted to literally kill our father because he was so damn annoying, and overly brooding, and stupid – her words not mine- and that Alfred calmed her in just a few words. I don’t quite know what he told her, or what he told dad. All I know is that he told me that he wouldn’t let them break-up again over a stupid fight, and um, next thing I know, I’m avoiding the East wing for a few hours.”

“Oh...Oh no Dick gross !”

Dick chuckles, enjoying a bit too much messing with his little siblings.

“Anyway, mom decided that Alfred deserved a day, in the year, where we would do everything HE wants because without him, our family would crumble. It just sort of became a tradition. So from midnight right now, to midnight of next day, no vigilante business. And we spend the day all together with him.”

“That’s actually...a really sweet story ?”

“It really is Dukie, it really is.”

“Dukie ?”

“Ah sorry, you’re part of the family now, which earns you a nickname from me. Jaybird. Timbo. Dami. Cass or Cassie if I feel like being a particularly doting older brother. So...had to find one for you. It was between Dukie and Dukester so-”

“Dukie is fine.”

Everyone snickers as Duke rolls his eyes, and then he asks :

“So...What exactly are we gonna do ?”

“Oh, well it’s simple. It starts at 8 am when we arrive, and we kick off with...”

4 am, Alfred’s bedroom.

You open the door to Alfred’s room quietly, as you would sometimes to make sure your children sleep.

This time, you were checking to see if the butler did really go to bed. One of the point of Alfred day, was that he had to feel perfectly fine, and he never had a full night rest !

So if you had to make sure he did during that time, then you would.

Your children had came home a few hours ago, happy they had some time with their oldest brother. Dick had been away often lately, and they missed him...You knew they were gonna guilt trip him into buying them a snack.

You and Bruce had had some alone time before they came home, that you definitely took advantage of...But for now, you escaped your husbands grip to come and check on Alfred, making sure he was sound asleep.

And he was. Good. Perfect. He’d have a good night sleep. A full night of sleep.

Quietly, you left the room again, unaware that a smile slowly rose on the Butler’s face...

8:02 am, Alfred Day :

Bruce is the one that opens the front door for them. They have their own keys, of course...but they both forgot them, as usual.

They’d normally just climb through a window, or sneak into the backyard, knowing where all the security devices were (the back door was never closed because of this), but decided that for this day, they’d just ring the bell and come in the right way.

Without much surprise, Bruce answers the door. It’d either be him or you, during Alfred’s day. Or anyone that wasn’t Alfred really.

Dick and Jason move to remove their shoes (house rules, NO SHOES inside) and coats, while Bruce looks at them, waiting for them so they can all walk back to the kitchen.

Jason is the fastest, and there’s this embarrassed silence between the three of them. Bruce smiles awkwardly at Jason, who looks away as soon as their eyes meet. With a “tt” very typical of his little brother, Jason says :

“Don’t misunderstand this, I’m here for Alfred. And...For mom.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Yes.”

Silence. Awkward, as Dick takes way too long to untie his shoes, and pretend he’s not hearing anything.

Bruce knows what he’s doing. He knows his oldest son is trying to give him some more time “alone” with Jason. But he’s not really sure what to say...

“I’m um...I’m glad you came.”

Good. That was good. Keep going on that path Bruce, that’s actually-

“Yeah, whatever. I’m going ahead, you know the way Dick.”

Damn. Almost there. Almost there with an actual moment between them two. Dick sighs, and puts a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“He’ll come around.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, he exhales slowly and nods, not very convinced...But today was not a day to dwell on the bad. Jason and him would make this work, if only for today.

Because today was Alfred’s day.

8h30 am, the Kitchen.

The butler came down in the kitchen, well rested and pleased to be greeted by his entire family. Your smiles already made his day perfect, and if “Alfred Day” was done in this instant, he’d still be happy.

“Sit down Pennyworth, we have made breakfast for you ! Well...Mom and father did...but we helped ! I was in charge of making tea ! And I think you will appreciate the way I brewed it. I followed an ancient Japanese recipe, and I reckon an aficionado like yourself will appreciate it.”

Damian bloomed when he was with his family. To people who didn’t know him as well as his siblings and parents, he could seem like a petulant and arrogant child, but he was the opposite of that.

He was insecure, and unsure. Scared of being left alone. And so to overcompensate all the fear instilled in him by years of abuse from his “grandfather”, the infamous Ras Al’Ghul, Damian could be quite a little jerk sometimes.

But when he was with his family...He opened up. He smiled. And he spend hours trying to brew the perfect cup of tea for the grandfather he actually chose to have.

“Bruce made your favorite Alf’, didn’t do half a bad job either -you smile at your husband, and give him a quick peck, which have the famous result of making your children make their best “ew” face-. You taught him well.”

You say, smiling widely at the butler.

It’s true, Alfred did teach Bruce how to cook really well. People often had the misconception the billionaire was bad at housework, which was wrong of course.

When his parents were alive, they’d insist he still had chores to do, so he wouldn’t be too spoiled. And when Alfred raised him, he taught him as much as he could so that the boy could hold his own.

Bruce was a great cook (you could definitely attest to that, what with him cooking your favorite meals on date nights and all). And he always made Alfred’s perfect breakfast for his special day.

“Jason and I just arrived so we didn’t really participate, but we picked up your favorite cake so it counts right ?”

Dick says, a wide smile on his face. Oh master Dick, Alfred blessed the day this little boy walked in their lives.

He wasn’t so little anymore, but he was always such a joy to have over. Even when he had his tantrum as a youngster (and now sometimes too, although he became better in controlling his burst of anger), Alfred couldn't help but love that child.

The butler turned to Jason, who shyly smiled at him and...Alfred’s heart was full.

“I am very happy to see you in this house, Master Jason.”

He said, as he sits around the kitchen table. Jason’s cheek tints slightly of red, as they always do when he’s a bit embarrassed and overwhelmed.

Jason was such a kind and sensitive child. He never quite got used to compliments, having been used to abuse and hate, and he would always blush under them. Alfred was glad to see that, even after the horror Jason went through, small things could still make his cheek turn rosy...

Jason sat down at the table, looking happier than he had in ages.

“For you.”

Cassandra said, settling in front of him a plate full of food, while Damian put the the cup of tea down.

Sweet little Cassandra. It was always a pleasure to hear her talk. Poor little thing was never taught love, or even how to talk...Having you in her life greatly helped. Having a family, greatly helped.

She still didn’t talk very often, but when she did, all of her words truly counted. She laid a small kiss on Alfred’s forehead, to bid him good morning, and went to sit in her usual spot, right between you and Damian.

“You will be happy to know, Alfred, that all of our electronic devices have been off since midnight last night ! Yes, even mine. Promise !”

Tim exclaims, smiling at him.

Tim was the only one out of all of Bruce’s children to have entered this life willingly. The only one that came knocking at their door, just really wanting to help.

Unfortunately, him too lost his parents over time (although they weren’t particularly great ones)...But the first impulse the boy had, was that he just loved Batman and wanted to give a hand !

Tim was selfless, maybe a little too much, and often worried you to death. He would get wrapped up in his projects even more than his father, and needed a constant reminder to take care of himself...task that you, Bruce, Alfred and his siblings would share gladly. He would give back anyway, working his ass off and putting his own life on the line for them any hour of the day...

At the furthest side of the table from him, sat Duke.

This was his first “Alfred Day”, and he was looking at things curiously, nonetheless happy to be here.

Young Duke’s situation was a little special. His parents were still alive, and he still hoped they’d find a cure for their madness. Because of this, the boy would often distance himself on purpose from some family events, finding it hard to find his own place.

This was one reason he didn’t wear the Robin mantel for long, and almost immediately went to be The Signal. It didn’t help either, that he was the only metahuman.

And yet...Yet as the days went by, Duke felt more and more at home at the Manor, and would more and more hang out with everyone. More and more felt like he was truly part of the family, now.

Of course, him moving to Wayne Manor was all very recent, and he needed time. Time that everyone was giving him willingly and gladly. Time to adjust and find his place.

But here, sitting around the kitchen table bustling with activity and laughter, Duke felt like...he felt like this Alfred Day brought him one step closer to truly be a part of it all. After all, to him too, the butler had been nothing but great.

Alfred had that talent, to congregate everyone around him...

You felt happy, there, sitting amongst your children, your love, and the man you came to consider your father.

Alfred had a good feeling, when he first met you. He knew. He knew you’d be the one to “tame” the bat, to not take his shit when he was being a jerk, and to give him unconditional love.

“Unconditional”.

It was important, to be in a relationship with a man like Bruce Wayne.

But oh. Oh he was giving you back every bits of love you ever gave him, times a hundred. He let you in in his world, and had no intention of ever letting you go.

Breakfast went by fast, as everyone talked away, and enjoyed each others company.

It was very rare, nowadays, that everyone could be in the same place. At least one of them would be busy normally. But on this day...on this day they surely made sure they would be free.

And so here they were, having breakfast altogether, happy.

If only people from the outside could see this scene; If only.

Then they’d know, just like Alfred knew, that this family was the strongest, tightest that ever existed, and that there was nothing but love between all of them.

************

11 am, the theater.

Before the first “Alfred Day” happened, Wayne Manor did not have a “theater”.

It had a “Ballroom number 3″.

It was your idea, to turn it into a small theater, so that Alfred could perform for everyone.

Over the years, you had realized that Alfred was actually a very talented actor. After all, he filled in Batman’s shoes many times, to pretend that Bruce couldn’t possibly be him. And he might’ve use his dramatic talent to convince you and the rest of your family to do what he wanted you to do...

Clever man.

On Alfred Day, the first activity, after breakfast, would be to take part in a monologue of his. Usually shakespearian. But sometimes he’d come up with small surprises. He once recited the “heaven” part of the Divine Comedy by Dante, because he knew you loved that poem.

It was absolutely brilliant, and you almost wished he had pursued an acting career instead of becoming the Wayne’s butler...but then, you would’ve never met him.

By 11 am, breakfast would usually be done and it was time for a performance of a year. By that time, Barbara and Stephanie would’ve join.

They didn’t live in the Manor, but they were close friend of the family. Friends that definitely knew how precious Alfred was to everyone.

This year, Alfred decided to entertain you with a series of short monologues taken from a wide array of material, from Shakespeare to movies. It was fascinating. They all had their snacks as if they were at the movie theater, and were captivated by his performance.

For Alfred, it was a way to relive his youth, working in London’s east end’s theaters. And to perform his hobby in front of a live audience.

So sure, maybe said live audience might’ve been a bit biased towards him, but he knew their applause and praises were genuine.

************

1 pm, East Wing living room.

Lunch was always skipped, as you snacked too much during Alfred’s performance, and he was never hungry after he acted.

You’d directly skipped to Alfred’s compliment session.

He both loved and hated this time. Loved it because it was a treat to see he positively impacted his family. Hated it because it was never comfortable to just hear people compliment you The moment they gave him a cherished memory they shared with him...

Each year, one by one, they would tell him something he did for them that really was important to them.

It was custom that the youngest would start. So Damian stood up, and said :

“My memory this year, is one that happened not long after I came to live in Wayne Manor. I had just gotten into a fight with Tim, and been mean to mom as she tried to talk to me about it...I felt terrible. I felt like I would never be someone good. Pennyworth came in my room, ignoring me when I told him to get away from me. He settled some cookies for me, and told me a story of my father when he was young. Of how stubborn he used to be, and how sometimes, he’d say very hurtful things he didn’t mean...Alfred explained to me that it was normal to feel angry, when we’re hurt. That it was ok to not always be on our best behavior. That the people who love us will understand, and do understand. That they’ll still be there if they really care. Then he left, and I went to apologize to my mom. And she was there. I also apologized to Tim, and him too, was there...”

Damian sat back down, avoiding everyone’s eyes, as he felt too overwhelmed with feelings. You threw an arm around his shoulder, and he instantly hid his face in your own shoulder, acting like a little scared kitten who’d hide under his mom.

It melted everyone’s heart, but nobody would say anything of course. This was between Damian and Alfred.

It was Duke’s turn, and he was a little nervous, as it was his first time :

“Mine is...Well...It’s going to sound so silly, after Damian’s heartfelt story, but one of my best memory with you Alfred, is when I first put The Signal mantel, and immediately hurt myself that night. I came back to the bat cave early, feeling shameful I couldn’t finish my patrol. You took care of my wound, and simply reassured me. It was just...soothing. I didn’t feel bad, as you stitched me up and calmed me down. I felt at peace, for the first time since my parents went mad...I can’t quite remember what you told me, as you just talked about random things, to calm me down. And it worked. As silly as it can sound, it worked. And that’s um...That’s when I started to feel good, here. Ok. That’s all.”

Duke sat back down too, hoping Tim would start speaking soon. Thankfully, he did.

“The memory I chose to share today, is one that is rather recent. I was struggling with some...self-worth issues. I felt like I could never fill dad’s shoes. Or Dick’s. Or Jason’s. Or anyone’s. I felt like I was trash. Like I was wasting away. I felt anxiety eating me up, and I was too scared to talk to anyone about it. Even to you, mom. I knew you’d find the right words, but I was just too scared you’d be worried about me. I know you worry a lot. So I didn’t say anything. Alfred walked in on me having a panic attack...and he helped me fight it. Then he scolded me because I didn’t tell anyone anything, and that it was a bad habit to always take all the burden on my shoulders. He then brewed me some tea, and talked about my favorite TV show with me to take my mind off of things...”

Tim smiled at Alfred, and sat down. You reached for him, and squeezed his hand, making him understand you too, were there. And you worried about all of them all the time anyway so, ya know.

It was Cass’ turn now. Cass always had some interactive things, because she never spoke too long. She held up some drawings she had made (with the help of Damian). It represented her at a ballet recital (to which you all went by the way, and which was amazing. Cass was a talented little star). She gave the small comics to Alfred, took a deep breath, and said :

“Thank you for helping me work on my dance, even when you were busy. You are a good teacher. For everything, from dance to how to make a perfect loaf of bread. I love your bread. I love your dance lesson. I love eating bread after our lessons. I love you more than bread. Even the sandwiches mom make with your bread and my favorite homemade jam.”

She then did a few ballet dance move, and sat down again, holding her knees with her arms, and breathing deeply. It was still a difficult exercice for her, to speak. And to convey her feelings through words. It was always difficult, and quite an exploit that she said that much.

Alfred smiled at her, before turning to Jason.

“I’ll never forget the day you yelled at Bruce because he tied me up after I stole the batmobile’s tires. How livid you were, and how you threatened him to tell everything to mom. How he instantly looked scared at the idea of her being angry, and how you made him realize he went too far. How you were there, every step of my way adapting to life in a mansion, after living in the streets. But yes, above all, I’ll never forget the day someone stood for me for the first time, when you yelled at da-Bruce. When you yelled at Bruce for me.”

He almost said “dad”. And that alone, was making Alfred’s heart happy. It was proof there still was some hope to salvage their relationship...

“Ok, well I’ll be quicker than everyone else. And just say : you’re the best grandfather I could ever ask for.”

With Dick, there was only two solutions. He would either go into a lengthy reenactment of a very specific event, or throw affirmations like that that would make Alfred feel tears coming to his eyes.

Today, Dick decided on a short and sweet version, and it fitted perfectly.

It was now your turn :

“Every year, I’m reminded how vital you are to this family. And every year, it is tough to chose just one memory I love about you. I always have to think, because there’s so many. But I think this year, I will choose that time I said “yes” to Bruce after refusing his marriage proposal three times, and you screamed in happiness, through your broom across the room, and ran to hug me. It was so out of character for you, it makes me happy just to think about it. But I mean, I can understand the excitement...I was pretty content myself.”

You smile, looking at your love, and he rolls his eyes at you, before smiling too. Of this pure smile he only shows you. And then he turns to Alfred, and tells him :

“You made the loss of my parents bearable. Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I’d probably turn...very dark.”

There was a small silence.

Bruce’s speech was always short and to the point.

And every time they were all done talking, Alfred would find himself with tears in his eyes. With those last few words from his son, this time didn’t escape the rule, and he found himself dabbing at the corner of his eyes.

Damian’s next word released the emotional atmosphere as he looked at his father and said :

“Tt, show off.”

Everyone bursted in laughter, and this great day continued on...

************

4 pm, interlude.

This was Alfred’s few hours of utter peace. Everyone would leave him alone, and he could relax doing something he liked to do (usually reading or something of the sort) while not worrying about anyone.

You’d give him space. It was very rare, for Alfred to be all alone with his thoughts, thoughts that he was forced to NOT have about his family.

It was even rarer that he wouldn’t think about Bruce or you, or his “grandkids”. So in this day, when he knew none of them were doing anything dangerous, he took full advantage of it to relax his mind.

In the meantime, you’d watch a film or two.

Damian and Tim were in the process of choosing when Duke turned to Bruce, and a smirk on his face asked :

“Soooo…I heard Alfred Day exists because you annoyed (Y/N) ? »

Bruce glares at Duke, ah he never quite likes to remember why Alfred Day exists…But before he can answer, you enter the room (you went to get some snacks for the movies) and exclaim :

“Don’t let Dick downplay how truly unsufferable he was that day ! Dick always manages to forgive his dad, and make things less worst than they are. It’s a talent really. Annoying doesn’t even cover how awful he was. He had one of those « dark days », decided he should break up with me for my own safety out of literally nowhere, yelled at baby Dick, was mean to Alfred saying he could fire him…I swear I could’ve slapped him.”

“You tried.”

“And if Alfred hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve succeeded. Anyway. Yes. You see, Bruce and I almost broke up that day because he was being really stupid, and Alfred...salvaged everything.”

“I was being stupid indeed...I almost lost...I...”

Sometimes, when he would remind himself of that day he almost went too far and truly drove you away, Bruce would feel almost like an anxiety attack coming over him. Because if he had lost you, and had continue on the path he was taking with Dick...Well he wouldn’t have had that second shot at having a family.

And it was enough of a frightening thought to be overwhelmed with anxiety.

“To be honest, I also was quite stupid. I can be stubborn too, sometimes. And there were time, at the beginning, where I wouldn’t try to be in your place...”

You say, letting soothing fingers run through his hair, a motion you knew always relaxed him. Bruce instantly calmed down, as your kids made some disgusted faces at your closeness, and the incident was over.

It was good, though, that Duke asked. First because it was actually pretty funny to think of the fearless Batman getting his ass kicked by his wife...but also because it was a good reminder to him of what he almost lost, and who he used to be.

Alfred saved him.

You saved him.

His children saved him.

And now, he could appreciate a relaxing movie time with all of you (minus Alfred, who was in his room, probably devouring the cake you got him (because yes, that cake was for him and him only), finally relaxed).

The movie chosen, everyone took their usual spot on the massive couch, that Bruce had ordered specifically so that his big family could all fit on.

At one point, both you and Bruce drifted off to sleep, in each others’ arms, and barely noticed your kids placing a blanket on you, rolling their eyes at how teeth rotting sweet you two were.

6 pm, a walk through the park.

Alfred loved Wayne Manor’s gardens.

And he loved even more peacefully walk through them with his family.

This was the time you were always reminded how massive the “backyard” was, when you’d go through acres of it.

The kids would play soccer, baseball, football, or anything really. Alfred would often join. He was actually very athletic, and the kids would fight to have him on their team.

You and Bruce would take part in it too, and your children would always make sure you’d be in the same team. Sure, sometimes you’d stop playing to smooch each others, like two damn teenagers...BUT, having you both on the same team would avoid triggering your crazy competitive minds.

For some reason, whenever you had to play against each others, you’d both get very ruthless and petty, and it would often time get annoying (for real, you were forbidden to play UNO since a long time by then).

You’d all spend some times outside, no matter the weather, enjoying a normal family outing.

Alfred loved this time of the day.

Because he loved the gardens, but most of all, he loved seeing his family being happy and together...

9:30 pm, the dinner.

Dinner was entirely prepared by you, and Alfred only had to come at the table and wait.

By then, you had a perfect system that made it so the meal was prepped efficiently. It was Alfred’s favorite, of course.

The table would be filled with all his favorite meals, prepared mainly by Bruce with you guys’ help.

Your kids would pretend to be waiter in a fancy restaurant, and exaggerate everything, which was very funny.

And you’d all share a meal, something that was quite rare, in this day and age.

In fact, you were pretty sure that your entire family being reunited for a dinner happened max three times a year. For the holiday season, for Alfred Day, and for Batman day (you just thought it was funny to celebrate it).

This was just a time to catch up, and to be together.

Alfred would ask countless questions to everyone, and everyone would be polite and listen. It’d just be so nice, and relaxing...

11:30 pm, almost the end.

The day would end in the batcave, with everyone enjoying each others’ presence for a few more minute before you’d go back to a “normal” life.

You’d talk about your favorite moment of the day, and how you always really liked “Alfred day”.

And then it’d be over. Alfred would retake his butler position, and the Batman would prowl the streets of Gotham once more.

You’d be their home support again, working the computer often, and you-

Ah. Yes. But not yet.

There were still a few minutes. And it sounded like the perfect time for you to finally talk about a certain news...

You see, Alfred was the one you went to to vent. You loved your family with all your heart... But anyone knowing them just à little bit knew they could be à handful. And Alfred, he was always there.

So it just seemed fitted for you, that you’d announce this news on that day. While everyone was around, and celebrating Alfred’s existence.

Because what you were about to say, was one of Alfred’s dearest hope...

12:28 pm, 2 minutes before the end.

You waited the very last minute, because you thought the effect would be even better.

And as your husband and kids were ready to leave, you said :

“Oh wait, I have one last thing to say on this very special day !”

They all stopped, and turned around, looking at you. You smiled. Nervous, but happy. You knew that you and Bruce wanted this anyway, so it would be fine. And you knew your kids...your kids would be happy. For sure.

But Alfred. Alfred would be over the moon. And so, without further ado, you said :

“I’m pregnant !”

Bruce’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened dumbly. He froze on the spot, before smiling widely and starting to laugh stupidly. His first reaction was to go to Alfred, which you were expecting.

Your children all reacted at the same time, rushing you like a wave of noise and excited screams and...pfiouh they could be overwhelming.

Alfred was indeed over the moon.

And he was the one calming your children, tearing them off of you so he could hug you, and give you some space, too.

Because that’s what Alfred did. Take care of you. Of his family.

And Alfred day, this year, ended with him looking at you and Bruce hugging tightly, overjoyed by the news of a future new little addition to the family.

Up until next year, and this future baby’s first Alfred day...

_________________________________________________

Annnnd it’s 9:12 am, kept my promise to post something “today” haha. Probably not the best time to post. Buuuut...well, another sleepless night (or early morning, all about perspective really haha) of writing. I’m definitely back :). I hope you liked this story, I’m a little nervous after being gone for so long, I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore, and this is all very...mmmmbadhgezhe. I still do hope you liked it a little bit.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3.

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pynkhues · 3 years

Note

.... any succession fic recs? 👀

Yes!! I haven't read a lot for it yet, but some of the stuff I've read has been staggeringly good. I'm generally more into gen fic in this particular fandom, but have enjoyed some Stewy x Kendall, Gerri x Roman and Naomi x Tabitha too.

A few recs under the cut!

“I wanted to get out. From under all this. Take the money and run.”

Kendall tells Stewy even though he knows he’ll never get it, not like Naomi does. He’ll never understand the crush of it, the heart-stopping head-fucking fear of failing a tyrant. Kendall’s been ignoring the shape of it for a long time, putting pieces of it together in the back of his mind in total darkness like a blindfolded man. It doesn’t matter that one day his dad will die. It doesn’t matter about the money or the hostile takeover or the stolen files or any of it. There’s no running. Kendall’s Logan Roy lives inside his head.

Stewy laughs. Stewy laughs for a long time.

“There is no out, Ken, what the fuck are you talking about? You were born this and you’ll die this. You are what you are, and what you are is a fucking Roy.”

Kendall hates him, for a moment. Lightning-strike furious. What the fuck does he know about any of it, about his dad’s swinging dinner plate-sized hands, about getting 24% name recognition in reliable international polling, about puking every time you think about a car swerving off the road in the rain. About finding out that you can do something unthinkably, unimaginably terrible, and it doesn’t matter to anyone you know but you. There’s a scar on his arm that no one else who hasn’t already been told how it got there can ever know about, and he’s sick of it, and it’s not fair. He hates Stewy for a moment because Stewy’s right.

“I wanted to do the right thing, Stewy, for once in my fucking life.”

Stewy laughs again, more briefly, and the predator flash of his eyes in the neon of the motel sign is a torture all its own.

‘There is no right and wrong, Ken. How the fuck do you not know that yet? Not for people like you. Like us. There’s shit you get caught doing and there’s shit you don’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You really, really fucking don’t,” says Ken, and fuck, there it is. The road less travelled, that only he has ever driven on. The path he’s down where Stewy can’t follow. That place beyond Stewy Hosseini where he never thought he could go.

“You’re not telling me something, and when I find out what that is, and I will find out what it is, Kendall, don’t you think I won’t, so I am warning you that when I do find out I am going to be righteously fucking pissed,” says Stewy, and if Kendall thought those were a predator’s eyes before—

“Yeah, you will,” says Kendall, because he knows exactly how perceptive Stewy is. Exactly how weak he is. Exactly, precisely what both of them are.

And treat this night like it’ll happen again by postcardmystery. 8k words. Kendall x Stewy. Post s2. (CW: internalised homophobia, some homophobic language)

I tried to pick a shorter excerpt, but I literally couldn’t, this fic is so. good. The voices are pitch perfect, and it’s got this incredible build to it overall that goes back and forth between time and point of views and just rips your heart out. The premise itself is pretty simple – after the press conference at the end of 2.10, Kendall calls Stewy, and they drive through rural America while Kendall has a breakdown, and it’s just - - unspeakably good. I love it so so so much, I have no words.

r/roysucks Connor’s gf just posted on Instagram (instagram.com) submitted two months ago by webbedscrum_2279 23 comments share save hide report

[–] DM_ME_SAMESMAIL 40 points two months ago I too like to escape to my yacht in the Mediterranean when my family and I are on trial for covering up rape and murder. permalink embed save report reply

AITA for accusing my father of multiple crimes on his own news station? By amleth 3k words. Gen fic. Post s2.

And now for something completely different – epistolary fic which is just reddit news threads of the Roy family drama. I love an epistolary fic and this is just totally charming, and made me laugh a lot out loud.

“You’re quiet,” she observes. “That’s a first.”

“Yeah, well, the Turks beat it out of me. Gave you a run for their money.” He waggles his eyebrows. “So what is this? Whips and chains? Are we doing the whole boat-sex thing? I heard Shiv and Tom are looking for a third —“

Gerri finds what she’s looking for: a black leather binder. She drops it on the bed and begins paging through it, and Roman cranes his neck enough to recognize that it’s just full of documents, not like, dick pics. “I’ve given some thought to what you proposed a few weeks ago, and I agree that we should make things official in some way,” she says, and he blinks.

“Uh,” he says. “Which — what part of it?”

“Take a look.”

Gerri closes the folio and hands it over. It’s deceptively heavy, and the print on these pages is way too fucking fine, he thinks, paging through it. “Is this some kind of, like, Fifty Shades of Roy sex contract? Because it’s not that I’m not into it, but I think there’s a strong argument for going paperless —”

“Strictly speaking, this isn’t legally binding,” Gerri says. “Just something I threw together with regard to our business arrangement going forward. But with no respect to the family — the past few weeks have really illustrated that no one should take anyone at their word right now. Give me a little more than your word.”

Evacuation strategies for a yacht on fire by devourthemoon. 11k words. Gerri x Roman. Post s2. Explicit.

After the events of s2, Roman and Gerri fake being married as a professional alliance, only, y’know, maybe it’s not so fake. This fic is just so, so much fun, and messy in the best possible way. The author nails all the character voices, and the sex scenes are just the right amount of hot and ridiculous, and I just love it all a lot too.

Kendall estimates it will take an hour for the first articles to go up. Some rapid-fire blog without oversight—the New York Post, maybe, or wherever those Vaulter hippies have skulked off to—will slap a catchy headline on it and report his words verbatim. Give or take a gif of his face when he switches to script number two. New York Times, Washington Post, AP, those fuckers take longer. They like to bleed the story like Middle Ages plague doctors for its marrow, fact-check and add context and analysis and as many backlinks as their servers can handle. Still, a couple of hours, and his face will be plastered on every major news outlet. His voice will play over the nightly talk shows. He’ll trend on Twitter. A few more days, and he’ll be the star of analysis segments, podcasts, weekly briefings. Maybe, fuck it, maybe he’ll trend on Twitter again.

It’s been years since Kendall read Shakespeare. But that shit sticks with you, gets under your skin and emerges when you least expect it, like eczema or Keynesian economics. He knows how the media will spin this. Kendall Roy Attacks CEO Logan for Years of Corruption. Prodigal Son Disrupts Family Legacy to Restore Credibility. That’s how Hamlet ends, right? And Macbeth, Lear, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, even Titus fucking Andronicus. The spilled blood sinks into the ground, the seedlings sprout forth from the soil, and a new castle is built on the bones. Order out of chaos, or at least close enough an approximation that the tabloids will buy it.

Legacy for profit by owlinaminor Post-2.10. Kendall Roy. Kendall through Shakespeare analogies – just - - ooooof. It's a beautiful, lyrical character study that weaves through Roy family history and teases at a future none of them are even sure they want. It's gorgeous writing.

For the next few days Shiv would have to keep the pressure on Kira like an open wound because there were other women, victims that Nate’s people were going to find one by one as soon as that phone call disconnected. Mo was her father’s friend, good friend, for a long, long time. Nate and Gil, Sandy and Stewy, too many sharks in the water and the share price probably dipped to a new low but she would never check a stock ticker. Her husband’s nerves fraying at the edges on national television. She had promised a woman she’d never met before that she would kill roughly one third of the top male executives of her family’s company. Her company.

The last look Rhea gave her before she shut the car door was concern close to fear—no longer the same woman who heard their pitch in the safe room, who laughed with her at Argestes. Rhea had only looked into the abyss; she got cold feet and she didn’t even know what it’s like to grow up in it.

Her family’s company is hers, will be hers. Even from a whale fall, new life would spring.

Feed his flesh to wayward daughters by reogulus. 2k words. Shiv Roy. Set during 2.09.

This entire fic is set around Shiv bribing Kira not to testify, and god, it is so good. It’s bleak and rough, and really hones in on the complex ground Shiv walks as a character. It's another brilliant study of what it takes to be a Roy, and the way they make the awful choices in order to fulfill this legacy that they don't even know they want.

Kendall sets down his fork. “So. Tell me. Is it everything you wanted? Is it what you thought it would be?”

Roman stills. He never does that. He’s constantly a menace in motion, slouching and fidgeting, worse even than Kendall at his amphetamine peak. “What? The view from the tippy-tippy-top?”

“His regard.” Kendall wipes his mouth with the edge of the white cloth napkin. It comes away pink from the steak. “Dad. He’s all yours now.”

Roman still hasn’t moved. Finally, he lurches, like corroded machinery come uncertainly to life. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking tight as hell. I love every beautiful daddy and me moment I was a good enough little boy to earn.” He snorts. “Fuck you.” His face goes curiously slack then, like something Kendall’s own face would do. An intermission in the performance, an energy cut. Something genuine finding its way to the surface. “Why don’t you tell me. When you got everything you wanted, how the fuck did that make you feel?”

Nauseous, is the first word that springs to mind. Sick. Scared. I’ve never had everything I wanted, there’s that. I’ve never once had a single fucking thing I wanted. There’s that, too.

Interim leadership by arbitrarily 2k words. Roman + Kendall. Post s2.

I love Roman and Kendall scenes generally, but this one which features Kendall and Roman meeting for the first time a few months after the press conference in 2.10 is just a bit magic. The push pull dynamic that's just inherent to them mixed with the genuine affection and brotherly love is really special, and arbitrarily embraces both in equal measure. It's a great little fic.

There are lots more of course, and I'd also recommend checking out other works by these authors, but I hope this is a good place to start! :-)

#hbo succession #succession fic #fic recs #welcome to my ama #kendall x stewy #gerri x roman

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detroit-smash-my-ass · 3 years

Text

Yandere Alphabet - All For One

Masterlist

Yes, technically this isn’t NSFW per se, but it gets into topics racy enough that I’m posting it here. And c’mon, who doesn’t enjoy delving into the twisted maze that is AFO? He’s neck-and-neck with All Might as the scariest yandere in this series anyway, but that’s another can of worms.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s very generous with the affection, but only if you’ve kept in his good graces. He’s not picky about doling out punishments if you act out. He keeps it fairly innocent unless the mood strikes, and even then he doesn’t care who’s in the room when he decides to seduce you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He’s the single most dangerous villain in the history of Quirks and has no hesitation to take what he wants when he wants. I feel like that should answer itself fairly well.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He’s gentle with you, but firm. His first priority is to make you dependent on him, and comforting you even as you demand answers. Depending on how violent/aggressive you get, however, he’s not above leaving you alone by yourself in a locked room for a while to stamp out that temper. As soon as you start acting nice, he treats you kindly again.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not in the classic physical sense. He’s manipulative, yes, but he’s not going to force you into anything -- at least, not yet. He wants your will to bend and break before he truly starts doing things with you that you might otherwise say no to. Patience is key - and lucky for him, he’s got a lot.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He tells you very little about himself other than the basics you already know: all-powerful villain who can take and give any Quirk he gets his hands on. He might liken you to his little brother once or twice, and perhaps if in a good enough mood he’ll tell you stories of when they were both young, but otherwise he’s a mystery to you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Amused. There’s literally nothing you can do to him that hurts, and for a while he’s content to let you think you’re gaining back control, only to crush that determination at the most heated moment. If you continue to act out, however, he will start to lose his patience and will treat you harsher and harsher, outright abandoning you in a locked room with food and water delivered once a day until he feels you’ve learnt your lesson.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t; chances are, he’s already won. He does enjoy watching you go about, thinking you’re being sneaky when he’s already figured out your entire plan to escape. At the very last moment when you think you’re going to get out, he enjoys seeing the hope fade from your face as you realize you’ve failed. It gives him a lot of pleasure breaking you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Being locked in a cell, alone, with nobody to talk to until he arrives to bring you food. He only wants to isolate you like that when you’re being stubborn; otherwise, you’re locked in your shared bedroom.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

First and foremost, he wants to rule his new empire with you at his side as his loving spouse. Your Quirk is deemed helpful enough that, should you be able to, he would like a few children sired with you to see what kind of Quirks they would get (or not, in which case he’d be delighted to share one of his with them and train them to use it).

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He’s not exactly jealous, but rather paranoid. His way of coping with that is to keep you locked away. You’re his, not anyone else’s, and he wants you to accept that.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He’s very affectionate. Loves holding you in his lap as he caresses your hair, maybe a kiss or two on your forehead. He’s very charming, too; likes to joke around with you and is quite playful when you’re in his good graces.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He met you while you were briefly in Kamino Ward and afterwards desired to have you for himself. He found out where you lived and worked and started sending anonymous gifts (along with a cell number) in the guise of a ‘secret admirer’ until you agreed to meet him over text. When you did meet, you were a bit intimidated by his size, but after a few successful dates you were already falling head over heels.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Absolutely. Most of the time, he acts charming and enigmatic, but when you piss him off, everyone knows it. The sheer weight of his aura is enough to even make All Might shake in his boots, and for good reason. He prefers not to let his charismatic mask slip, though. It’s much easier to manipulate others when they believe you to be weaker than you are and think they have the upper hand at all times.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Depends on what you did. If he thinks you’re just being bratty, he may spank you, chiding you the whole time. If you piss him off? Total isolation. 24/7, 365-366 days a year. At least, until he believes you’ve learnt a lesson. You’re locked in a cell with only a cot, toilet, and shower, and he himself delivers food to you once a day as your only form of human communication. Cameras are trained on you at all hours that only he can access. He doesn’t fuck around.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

At first, he’s quite generous. He allows monitored correspondence between you and your family. He allows you to go places only with either him or Kurogiri present at all times. He allows you near sharp objects only with supervision (like when you cook dinner together). But if you piss him off, he takes everything away, including privacy. Get sick? Need an exam? He gets Garaki to check you out, and he watches the whole time.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He can be exceedingly patient. His thinking is that you’re just a petulant child who needs to learn their place, and if he has to dole out a few punishments along the way he will. He just wants you to realize that he won’t let anything happen to you and that he just wants the best for you (that issue is subjective).

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You know how he (presumably) reacted to his beloved little brother dying? That. Again. And this time, he would be less lenient on those he deemed responsible. He rules with an iron grip.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Doesn’t feel guilty at all, and absolutely won’t let you go. It’s partially his Quirk to blame; when he sees something (or someone) he desires, he just has to have it/them. He considers you to be totally his, and he won’t stand for anything else taking you away.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

As stated above, it’s partially his Quirk, partially due to being born in a turbulent time of history. Quirks were still becoming more common at the time, and he was already protective of his brother due to his perceived Quirklessness and because he was using his Quirk for good. He made too many enemies that wanted to hurt those close to him, and due to his paranoia (as well as his possessive nature), force of habit dictates that he isolate those he deems his.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Condescending pity. He dealt with that kind of behavior once, with his younger brother, and it nearly broke him then trying to get him to see how much he loved him. Now he’s older and more patient, and all he can do is try and comfort you by petting your hair and telling you that it has to be this way, he just wants the best for you, why can’t you just understand?

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

When he does lose it, he doesn’t ‘go mad’ in the classic sense -- rather, his resolve hardens and he retains his temper. His is more of a tranquil fury - it’s not immediately obvious unless he chooses to show you. He wouldn’t physically hurt you either -- well, not enough to wound you. He would consider spanking, but he wouldn’t break your legs.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Oh, honey. You really think he won’t see what you’re doing and shut it down when you think you’ve gotten free? He’s All For One. There’s not a weakness he hasn’t already thought through.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Aside from light things like spanks, no. Mentally, though? He’s a manipulative, gaslighting monster. He will not hesitate to turn you against everyone you’ve ever loved if it meant you were more dependent on him alone.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He goes the traditional gentleman route: wooing you slowly enough that you don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. He reveres your body in all of its beauty when you get intimate, but he rather wants you to worship him devotedly.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

If anything were to make him snap, it would be you (against all odds) escaping his grip. Maybe one of his underlings somehow slipped you out under his nose. Maybe another decided to just dump you somewhere. Either way, he’s going full lockdown mode and will not stop until he finds you. And believe me, he will find you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

That’s probably the first thing he does if you’re stubborn/defiant enough. If you prove to be totally into it and are willing to be totally dependent on him, congrats! You get to escape with your will mostly unharmed!

#yandere alphabet #all for one #afo #yandere all for one

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

Text

Come Together - Little Movie Star Chapter Five (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Summary: It was finally time to meet the Padalecki’s. What if they did not like you? You were expecting a lot of things but you certainly were not expecting this. Were you dreaming? You had to be.

Words: 1,912

Warnings: language, Jared being a hugger (you’ll understand why I put it here), being uncomfortable, scared of having to go back, surprises, kinda a filler chapter but important for the future of this story

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

Tonight, the Padalecki’s were coming over. When Jensen broke the news to you, you were excited but equally nervous. Danneel drove the kids over to their grandparents so they would not disturb you during dinner. Not that they ever annoyed you. The exact opposite, actually. You loved having them around. But you were supposed to focus on Jared & Gen tonight.

The thought of them getting to know you scared the shit out of you. They were the Ackles’ best friends, after all, & you wanted to leave a good first impression behind. It took you some time to figure out what you wanted to wear for dinner. It would be held at home so you did not have to overdress but at the same time, you found dressing nicely to be convenient. After changing your outfit one too many times, you settled on a simple look. While it was nothing special, you did feel confident in it. And confidence was definitely something you needed later today.

Spending hours in the bathroom was not planned, it simply happened. You wanted to look perfect. Danneel had told you that there was no need to worry, that they would love you just as you were. Being a fan of them for a long time, you knew they would never judge you by they way you looked. It just was not in their nature. Still, it could not hurt to put effort into your look, right?

When you woke up today, the first thing you did was checking your phone. You knew you should not but sometimes you felt the need to. By now, everyone knew about you. And while the hate comments were becoming less & less, some days, you only noticed the negative responses. Of course, the media had picked up on the fact that you were a new person they could write about. There was not much to report about you, though. Some paparazzi had shot a few pictures of you over the time of you living in Austin. At first, you were creeped out by the idea of being watched 24/7. Now, you were dealing with it way better. When you were seen with Jensen, you posed for the pictures & it was fun to mess with them, really. Besides your first Instagram post, you had been quiet on social media. The hate wave still needed some time to die down & you did not want to add fire to the flame by posting more stuff about your new life. Surprisingly, the articles that had been written about you were mainly positive. Of course, a couple of them were looking for drama but because of your silence on social media, there was not much they could write about.

Walking out of your room after checking your look in the mirror for the hundredth time, you saw that you still had an hour left before they would be coming by. You could ask Danneel if you could help in the kitchen. She had insisted on making the main dish while the Padalecki’s would bring over dessert. Danneel heard you walking in & gasped when she turned around to look at you.

“Wow, (Y/N). You look gorgeuous.” blushing at her words, you thanked her.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” walking over, you could already smell the delicious dish Danneel was preparing.

“You could set the table if you don’t mind?” she asked you & you immediately got to work, grabbing everything necessary to put on the table.

Hey, Dee?” you were at a point where calling her by her nickname did not make you uncomfortable anymore. Yet, if you had to be fully honest, being in Jensen’s presence calmed you more. Comparing your relationship to the beginning, though, the both of you had improved by a lot. And you were grateful that your trying was not for nothing.

“What’s up?”

“Where’s Jensen? Shouldn’t he…I don’t know, be here already?” you knew he was not the person to be late, especially not for something as important as this. Okay, it was just dinner but he was aware of your nervousness even days before. Danneel informed you that he was at the Padalecki’s house & would arrive right in time with them. Okay, good. At least he did not forget about it.

Ever since you had arrived in Austin, Jensen’s filming schedule was all over the place. The crew wanted to give him more time with you & the change in his life. This ended up in him flying back & forth from Vancouver to Austin almost every couple of days. It was exhausting & you had reasoned with him to focus on his work entirely, that you guys would be okay here. But nope, Jensen wanted to be there with his family & you appreciated his efforts a lot. A lot of weekends, he was at conventions all across the country but he always managed to stop by & spend time with you all. He was great.

There was knocking on the front door & you knew it was them. Danneel asked you to get the door & you were silently preparing yourself. You had multiple conversations in your head & hoped that one of them would be fitting. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. Damn, you knew Jared was tall but he was tall. You were pulled into a bone-crashing hug before any words were exchanged. Right, you knew Jared was a hugger, you had seen enough videos of him admitting that. Still, you were getting used to physical touch & his hug did more bad than good. You hated yourself for feeling that way, there was no need to be scared of hugs.

“Easy, pal. Let her go.” Jensen rescued you by tapping Jared’s shoulder. It was as if he suddenly remembered that you actually were not one for hugs. Pulling away abruptly, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry…” he quietly apologized. “I’m Jared. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).” you could not stay mad at him, the look in his eyes & his smile was enough to forget the uncomfortable hug immediately.

“It’s no problem & likewise, Jared.” stepping out of the doorway to let them in, Gen came into view & she smiled sweetly at you. Not making the same mistake as Jared, she simply shook your hand.

“Hi (Y/N), I’m Gen. You look pretty.” would you ever stop blushing whenever someone gave you a compliment? You were not sure but it was something you could work on, you thought.

“Thank you. It’s good to see you.” keeping your nervousness at bay, you were proud when your voice did not crack. If you acted like this the entire evening, you would be fine.

Jared & Gen walked into the house to greet Danneel & Jensen stopped you before you could follow them. Facing him, you gave him a confused look, not knowing what he wanted from you.

“I’m sorry about Jared. I told him you weren’t one for hugs but that jerk doesn’t listen very well.” Jensen felt bad that the first interaction between you guys was uncomfortable for you.

“It’s fine, Jensen, really. I knew he was a hugger.” a laugh escaped you, one that eased him a little. Now he could tell you were not mad at what happened. It could only get better from now on, right?

Dinner went by fast. It was easy to talk to them & while they did ask you a lot of questions, they were never uncomfortable. They knew where the line was that should not be crossed. At least for the time being.

“So, (Y/N).” Jared started.

“Yeah?”

“I heard a rumor that you’re a fan of Supernatural?” he gave you a smile that showed you that he knew the answer to that question already. You nodded your head.

“Started watching about three years ago.“

“That brings me to my next very important question. Who’s your favorite? Sam or Dean?” oh, he did go down that road, great. You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you & Jared was looking way too confident. Honesty was important, right? Well, then you might as well confess.

“Actually…Cas is my favorite.” you admitted. Both, Jared & Jensen, gasped & acted as if the world just ended. You laughed at their antics. They could be such children.

“That’s my girl.” Danneel spoke up & high-fived you. Yeah, you could get used to that group of people.

Danneel & Gen left Jensen, Jared & you alone, knowing what they were about to tell you. Jared had brought you a little gift. It was one of his hoodies from the newest “Always Keep Fighting” campaign. The one with the “Family Has Your Back” logo. After thanking him, you immediately put it on, loving how it fit you. It was a little too big on you but that made it even comfier.

“We have to tell you something.” Jensen started. Oh no. Usually, when people from your past started a conversation like this, you were sent back the next day. Wait…Would they really do that? After everything?

“O-okay?” hiding your nervousness was not possible anymore. Jared noticed you trembling hands & eased your mind before you got the wrong impression.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s a good thing, I promise.” again, Jared’s smile had an effect on you. Maybe it was because he was so empathetic.

“Remember when you told me that you enjoyed acting a while ago?” Jensen continued after you nodded, “I managed to get you two auditions. They are online, so I can be there with you this entire time. That is, of course, only if you wanna do this.” your eyes widened at his words. Had you heard him right? He got you auditions? Plural? That was literally one of your biggest dreams.

“So?” Jared asked when you were silent for a few seconds. You just needed time to process everything. But holy shit. Of course you wanted to do this!

“I’d love to! What are the auditions for?”

“One is for being a main character in season 13 of Supernatural & the-“ Jensen was cut off.

“WAIT WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?”

“He so isn’t kidding.” Jared chimed in.

“And the second one?” everything was too much right now. How could you possibly deal with this information without freaking out?

“A role for the next Avengers movie.” Jensen finished. Yeah, sure, why not?

“How? How did you get these auditions for me?” you were shocked to say the least. What was happening?

“We do have some connections.” Jared winked at you & this time, it was you who pulled the both of them into a hug. Jared looked surprised while Jensen just smiled. He appreciated whenever you initiated physical touch, knowing it was not easy for you.

After the talk, Danneel & Gen joined you guys again & you excitedly told them about your upcoming auditions. That was so foreign to you. Having upcoming auditions. Even though they made sure that you understood that they could not guarantee anything, you were more than grateful that they even got you this opportunity. Supernatural & Marvel, both fandoms you loved wholeheartedly. And now you had the chance to be play an actual part if everything worked out. And how you hoped it would. Your life had changed so much lately & it could change even more now.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/17/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624, @imaginationisgrowth, @stoneyggirl, @alyispunk, @thevelvetseries, @multifandomlover121, @samsgirl93, @supernatural3002, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector, @vir-tual, @bellero, @sergantbuckybarnes (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

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kpophours · 4 years

Text

Way to You

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, friends to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 5.7k

You are in trouble.

You are in really big trouble.

Staring at the sleeping person beside you, you think about what to do next.

Maybe you could move to a different country, take on the maiden name of your mother and become a dog sitter. You like dogs! Love them, even. Cats too, you’re not picky.

Or maybe you could apply to be one of those people being shot into space to colonize Mars. It’s probably chill up there - not many people, and even better: no Chan. Probably no wifi too, though. But well, you like reading so you could always pass time by bringing enough books, right?

Or maybe, as an easier and far less dramatic solution: you could just pretend to not remember anything from last night - honestly, from the way your head is pounding right now, it doesn’t even seem that far fetched.

For now you decide to just slide out of bed before the man beside you wakes from his deep slumber, and to flee from his house, hoping no one is going to see you. No witnesses, no crime, right?

At least you’re still wearing a shirt and most of your underwear, so … it could be worse.

Probably.

Right?!

You take in a deep breath and carefully lift the blanket, slowly wiggling towards the edge of the bed. Before you can successfully escape though, Chan beside you groans, and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you close to his own warm body again. You almost squeal, but manage to press your lips together to stifle the noise.

Chan’s breathing is soft and steady - so for now, he’s still asleep, but you need to get away from him as quickly as possible. So you try to escape for a second time, carefully prying his arm from your body and placing it back on the mattress. This time, you successfully slide out of bed, silently landing on your feet and almost losing your balance - you are in desperate need of some water, it seems. Dehydration is no joke, kids. Quietly, you slip into your jeans and grab your bra dangling from a bedpost. You also look for your purse but after being unable to locate it, you finally tiptoe out of the room. As soon as you’ve managed to close the door behind you, you exhale, relief spreading through your whole body. You’re fine, you’re good, you’re almost out of here! You pretty much run towards the bathroom, and suppress a groan when you see your tired hangover face staring back at you in the mirror. After drinking some water straight from the tap, you wash off the pitiful rest of your makeup, put your hair up into a ponytail and deem yourself ready to leave the solidarity of the bathroom again - and to face whoever’s already awake.

The frat house is almost eerily quiet at this time of day, so you try not to make a sound while sneaking downstairs, cringing whenever one of the steps creaks under your weight. You sigh in relief when you’ve finally made it downstairs, and begin to smile when you spot your purse dangling from the back of a chair. To your delight, the keys to your flat, your wallet and phone are all still in there. Maybe the world isn’t as bad of a place as you’re sometimes making it out to be. “Morning.” You squeal and turn around, hand clutching your chest. Hyunjin chuckles when he sees your shocked expression, and silently toasts you with the mug he is holding in one hand. “Well don’t you look lovely so early in the morning.”, he teases, and you stick out your tongue at him. “I’m very sorry to inform you that not everyone has been blessed with a perfect morning face, oh dear Adonis.”, you just answer, and he grins. “Want some coffee”?, he asks, already reaching for a second mug, but halts in his movement when he sees your hesitant expression. Your eyes slide towards the stairwell and back at the young man in front of you again. “I- I should go.”, you say, and he just nods, hand falling away from the coffee pot. “Sure. Have a nice day, then.” For some reason, he seems disappointed, but you try not to give it too much thought. So you just smile at him, before ducking out into the hallway to grab your shoes and jacket, quickly leaving the frat house behind. It’s a cold morning for early autumn, mist hanging between the trees and making it difficult to see, and you bury both hands in your pockets while walking towards the direction of your flat. It’s weirdly quiet, and you’re almost regretting your decision to leave the house so abruptly, even though it was probably the more… sensible thing to do. Chan and you have a long, complicated history - missed opportunities, bad timing, broken hearts. For some reason, it just never seems to work between you guys. There’s always either another person standing between you, or some miscommunication happens, or he is suddenly leaving to spend a term abroad in Australia or or or … the list goes on and on. You’ve never managed to find your way to each other.

Yesterday was his welcome back party, and as part of the “inner circle”, you’d of course been invited to join the surprise gathering as well. You truly love and adore all the boys living at the frat house, even though you want to smack Minho pretty much 24/7, really dislike Hyunjin’s perfect face and superior smirk whenever he plays beer pong against you, and are almost a bit annoyed at Jeongin’s cuteness (you would probably let him get away with literal murder). You also can’t believe the amount of chicken Seungmin manages to eat in a day, and have long lost count of how many times you’ve had to drag Changbin out of the cave he calls his room so he’d finally see some sunlight again and get that vitamin D. No wonder he never grew past the 1.70m mark. Felix is the only one you’d never say anything against, the man being too sweet (and cute) for his own good. He is just sunshine personified. You’d legit burn down cities to protect him. You had met the seven young men during your freshman year, all thanks to your then new roommate and your now best friend Jisung. The others had pretty much accepted you with open arms, and almost just as quickly, you had fallen head over heels for Chan. But who can blame you? Not only is he incredibly handsome, but also funny, witty, smart and always down to clown. Your perfect man in the shape of a talented, beautiful goofball. And he seems to be more than interested in you as well, often shamelessly flirting with you, touching you more than necessary and generally being a total sweetheart towards you.

And yet - … and yet … for some reason, it just never seems to work between you two. Fate is against you, apparently.

Exhausted, you unlock the front door to the flat you share with Jisung, hoping that he is either still at his girlfriend’s place, or deeply asleep. You need a long hot shower and some alone time afterwards.

And coffee, lots of it. Or tea. One or the other, you’re honestly not picky.

Sadly, fate is against you yet again: Jisung sits at the kitchen table, dark eyes almost entirely hidden by too long hair falling into his handsome face. He should really get a haircut. As soon as he lays eyes on you, he gives you a cheeky smile. “Good moooorning.”, he says, tone of voice way too cheerful so early in the day. You sigh internally, but give him a small smile in return and murmur a greeting back. “You look awful.”, your roommate then states, and you roll your eyes at him. “I guess my exterior reflects my inner self, then.”, you grumble, and take the mug of coffee he is sliding your way with a curt nod of your head. “Rough night?”, he asks, lip twitching. You give him a critical look, gnawing on your lower lip. Jisung had left the party around 1am, his girlfriend getting tired and finally wanting to go home.

So how much does he know?

Knowing the boys … they might have instantly texted him, telling him about you staying the night.

With Chan.

In Chan’s room.

After not having seen him for six months.

After having pretty much confessed to him only seconds before he had to take a cab to get to the airport to leave for his term spent abroad.

What can you say, timing has never been one of your strong suits.

Jisung is still staring at you, obviously waiting for your answer. You snap out of your thoughts and take a sip of coffee. You grimace when the bitter taste hits your tongue; Jisung always likes his coffee a lot stronger than you. Pretty much the only strong thing about him though. “It was… long.”, you finally say, and place the mug back on the kitchen table, “And I really need a shower now.” With that, you quickly leave the kitchen again, ignoring your roommate’s low chuckle.

Oh that bastard so knows.

Meaning you have to add a few names to your death note.

Monday is the worst day of the week.

Monday should just cease to exist. Why can’t the week just begin with a nice, chill Tuesday?

You like Tuesdays. Tuesdays are cool.

Mondays on the other hand… They just don’t sit well with you.

“JISUNG, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE I’M GOING TO BREAK DOWN THIS DAMN DOOR!”, you yell, and continue to hammer your fist against the locked bathroom door.

He’s been in there for almost an hour now, probably using up all the hot water. You can’t believe he’s doing this to you. There’s only about twenty minutes left before you have to leave for your first class, and you definitely need a hot shower and some concealer. Maybe a miracle. Where’s your make-over-sequence when you need it?! Why are you not a young heroine in a quirky rom-com, then you’d probably look perfectly styled all the time. But no, you’ll probably have to go to class with greasy third-day-hair, sweatpants and the biggest eye bags the world has ever seen. Fifty shades of dark circles under your eyes - the perfect movie title should your life ever get turned into one. Probably a solid 10% on Rotten Tomatoes, maybe 15% if the viewers feel generous. Your life just ain’t that interesting so far.

“JI-FUCKING-SUNG!” You kick the door - or well, you want to. Because in that second, your roommate finally decides to open it, so you accidentally kick his shin instead of the wooden door. He yelps, and doubles over in pain. “Hey, I thought you were a pacifist. Violence is never the answer and all that stuff!”, he complains, voice laced with pain, and you feel like, 20% sorry. Or maybe only 15%. “It’s your own fault if you need half an eternity to get ready.”, you scoff, and squeeze past him to get inside the bathroom and to finally take your long awaited shower. “Aren’t you a joy to have around in the morning.”, Jisung just replies, and you flip him off before closing the door into his puffy morning face.

You’re almost late to class, but not because you took too long in the bathroom, oh no. This is Jisung’s fault again - being the annoying parasite that he simply is, he used up the last of your favorite tea, meaning you had to search through the kitchen cabinets to find your less tasty emergency back-up tea. Finding it had taken way too long, because about two weeks ago, Jisung had randomly decided to move everything around inside the cabinets, and now you can’t find shit anymore. He should really get a hobby or two.

You’re out of breath by the time you reach the lecture hall, and almost frozen to death thanks to the temperature dropping way too low last night. Your hair is still wet because you didn’t have time to blow dry it this morning, so you know you’ll look like a crazy witch in approximately half an hour. Having unruly hair is fun. “Hey, Y/N!”, someone yells as soon as you walk through the door, and you jump, almost spilling the back-up tea all over yourself. Thankfully, you manage to maneuver the small thermos flask away from your body, so the hot liquid spills onto the floor instead of your clothes. You shoot a silent apology to the cleaning staff. Your eyes zone in on the person responsible for your near-death-experience, and you groan when Minho flashes you a cheeky smile. It’s way too early to deal with demons, you decide, and are about to turn around and search for a more welcoming or even unfamiliar face in the crowd of students, when Hyunjin appears at your side, mirroring Minho’s gleeful expression.

“Hell’s empty and all the devils are here.”, you mutter under your breath, and Hyunjin laughs, before shoving you towards the empty seat beside Minho. “Stop quoting Shakespeare, you drama queen.”, he just says, and takes the seat on your other side. “I still don’t understand why you had to take the same class as me this term. There are endless other classes you could have chosen. Endless, I’m telling you!”, you mumble, expression grumpy. Minho chuckles. “And rid you of our extremely pleasant company and highly amusing commentary? Never.” You just scoff and open your backpack, rummaging through it until you find your small notebook and pen. Call you old fashioned but you actually like to take notes by hand, eyeing Minho’s sleek MacBook Pro with slight distaste (and maybe a hint of envy). Hyunjin’s doing… better, you guess, because he too is taking notes by hand, but he just has a random assortment of loose paper instead of a bound notebook. You already know he’ll have lost half his notes by the end of the day and will probably ask to borrow yours. Oh that sweet chaos boy.

“How was the rest of your weekend?”, Minho asks, “You were gone by the time we all got up on Saturday, people were really sad and disappointed by your sudden disappearance, you know.” His tone of voice is innocent, too innocent. You know exactly who “people” includes. Oh, you know it way too well. “I had things to do.”, you answer curtly, eyes stubbornly trained at the front of the room where the teacher’s just trying to set up his laptop. You hope he’ll hurry, because you really don't want to continue talking to Hyunjin and Minho. But apparently, the teacher is a hopeless case, looking at the different cables with a big question mark on his face. What is it with boomers and technology, honestly. “Come on, my dude. Please hurry.”, you whisper, watching the man intensely, both eyebrows drawn together. You try to send him mental strength, because he actually looks like he’s about to cry. You’d go and help him if you weren’t sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. Hyunjin pokes your cheek, and you jump. “Answer us, coward.”, he says, sounding way too pleased. “My weekend was fine. The hangover was uncool, but I spent the rest of the day destroying Jisung at Mario Kart and eating greasy food, so it could have been worse. Sunday was uneventful, I just caught up with some of my reading materials for class this week.”, you recap your last two days in a flat voice, “How about you guys?” “Those were the oh-so-important things you “had to do”? Groundbreaking, truly.” You ignore Minho’s sarcasm and begin to play with the cap of your pen. “Well we had to clean the house after Chan’s welcome home party, of course. And then he showed us some of the pictures he took in Australia - there was this one really cute one where he was cuddling a koala, I’m sure you’d love it.”, Hyunjin tells you, and you’re this close to kicking him. How dare he put the mental image of Chan cuddling a koala in your head. You hate how much you love it. Just because you really like koalas of course, this has nothing to do with Chan himself. If you repeat it over and over again, you might actually believe it one day. Probably not. Ugh, Hyunjin and Minho are truly the worst possible friends you could ask for. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these. “Cool.”, you just murmur, and thank the Heavens above when you see that some student has finally taken mercy on your teacher and is helping him set up. Soon after, the lecture begins, and as annoying as Hyunjin and Minho may be, they usually do take their studies seriously, so they finally shut up and leave you be. You sigh in relief, and begin taking notes as well.

You don’t even know why you agreed to come.

You don’t want to be here.

At the frat house.

Again.

You were just here last week, and everyone knows how that ended.

You had managed to avoid seeing Chan all week - not that it was difficult, seeing as you don’t share a single class with him. But he hasn’t texted you either, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a teeny tiny bit disappointed.

You grind your teeth, cursing Jisung and his stupidly cute hamster cheekies and puppy eyes. You hate to admit it, but you’re prepared to give him just about anything whenever he looks at you with his deep brown eyes while puffing out his cheeks. Honestly, what did the Universe think all those years ago, bringing him into your life?! Why couldn’t someone else have answered your ad about searching for a new roommate? Why did it have to be Jisung?

This whole mess is really just Jisung’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, you’d probably never have met the perfection that is Christopher Bang Chan.

“Are you trying to set the house on fire by staring at it? Because I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m pretty sure it ain’t gonna work.”, your best friend says, voice laced with barely hidden glee.

He knows how much you hate being here. You had only agreed to come after Jisung had promised Chan wouldn’t be here this evening. Pinky-promised, even! But you already see his car parked outside the frat house, and that can only mean one thing - Jisung has betrayed you. That bastard. This is how Jesus must have felt when he found out about Judas’s betrayal. Or Caesar, when he was stabbed by those closest to him, including his own son Brutus. You really can’t trust men. Your heart aches for your other best friend, but of course she just had to graduate top of her class and therefore go attend the most prestigious university in the country. Meaning she’s about a thousand miles away from you right now. In the end, you really can’t trust anyone, huh. But especially not men. And especially not Jisung, it seems.

“You’re less funny than you think.”, you just answer flatly, and your roommate scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. We both know the Universe has blessed me with both devilishly handsome looks and an amazing and unique humor.”, he replies, and now you really want to smack him. But being a self-proclaimed pacifist, you just take in a deep breath and decide to only think about all the ways you would murder him if you were a cold-blooded killer and not a usually soft tempered college student. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper and let’s finally go inside, I’m freezing.” And with that, your best friend simply drags you towards the front door.

Judas and Brutus have nothing on Jisung, you decide. Because the second you step inside the living room of the frat house, you’re greeted by the charms (the Chan arms). It’s way too cold to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Chan didn’t get the memo apparently. Or maybe it’s because he’s just so hot, he doesn’t get cold, like ever.

You grimace at your own lame joke, even though you thankfully didn’t say it out loud. That would have been embarrassing.

There are a few other people here already, maybe about 15 in total, and everyone greets you and Jisung warmly. You smile and return hugs, and before you know it, Changbin has handed you some wine in a red plastic cup. How very fancy, you truly feel special tonight.

He then pushes you towards the four old, mismatched sofas taking up most of the living room space, and orders you to sit down. You’re so surprised by his commanding tone, you actually follow his request without much protest. For a few minutes, you just stay quiet and observe the small crowd of people, taking a sip of wine from time to time. It’s dry, too dry for your liking, and you’d rather have a cup of tea right now. Or well, maybe a shot of vodka - because suddenly, Chan is making his way towards you. Your eyes dart around the room, and you desperately try not to look at him. He looks so good. Too good. No one needs that much beauty, this is truly just excessive. His black hair looks so shiny, you just want to run your fingers through it. And his deep dark eyes, perfect to drown in. You just want to touch his arms and see if his muscles are as hard as they look. He even has a perfectly cute smile, that bastard. It’s just too much, he’s just too much.

Before you can get up and flee from the scene, Chan falls onto the ground beside you, and gives you his signature cheery smile. His lips look incredibly kissable in the dimly lit room. Ugh.

You quickly look away.

“Hi.”, he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He has too much power over you, and he doesn’t even know it. “Hi yourself.”, you answer quietly. “How you’ve been? We haven’t seen each other all week.”, he asks, leaning closer, his right arm brushing against your left one in the process. He smells really good and you can’t help but deeply inhale. “Yeah, I’ve been quite busy.”, you explain, still avoiding to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye, you see how he raises both eyebrows. “Busy? It’s only the second week of class. I didn’t know you’ve become such a geek while I was gone.”, he says, but his soft smile indicates he’s just joking. You shrug, and take another sip of the too dry wine. You grimace again.

It’s disgusting, really, and you don’t even know why you’re still drinking it.

Chan takes the cup out of your hand, and eyes it suspiciously before taking a sip as well. His face says it all, the wine truly is disgusting. “What is this!? A liquid from Hell?!”, he asks and shudders, and you break into a smile. “Considering you live with at least two demons, it’s not that far fetched.”, you answer, and he tilts his head to one side. “What did Hyunjin and Minho do now?”, he sighs, and you shrug. “They were themselves.” Chan chuckles, mumbles “That actually says it all.” under his breath and leans back against the sofa. He’s still looking at you, and you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. Really uncool of your body to just betray you like that. Mind over matter, you think, and dare the blush to just go away and leave you be. It doesn’t work though. Years of evolution and you’re still unable to command your body the way you want to. How incredibly rude. Darwin would be so disappointed.

“I missed you, Y/N.”, Chan suddenly says, his voice barely above a whisper. You finally turn towards him, and lock eyes with him. His expression is soft and his eyes earnest. You give him the smallest of smiles. “I… well, I missed you too.”, you finally confess, heart fluttering when he breaks into a bright smile. He lifts his hand to brush some of your hair behind your ear, all while still intensely looking at you. Your heart rate immediately flatlines, and you think you might have a very spontaneous case of strong asthma, because your lungs are apparently giving up on you as well. You basically drown in Chan’s eyes, their warm brown so familiar.

“MY DEAREST DUDES AND DUDETTES!”, Seungmin suddenly yells - a beautiful alliteration, you think -, making both you and Chan jump. You hurriedly bring some space between your bodies, almost having forgotten about not being alone in the room. You can feel Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung looking at you, all three sporting matching, shit-eating grins.

Maybe being a pacifist is not the right way to go through life after all, because right now, you really just want to punch them. Only lovingly, of course, but with enough strength nevertheless.

“Thank you for joining us on this wonderful Friday evening, and welcome to this month’s game and drinking night! I see most of you have already found your seats, so everyone who’s still standing, please go and sit on your butt, thank you very much.” Seungmin grins and waits for everyone to follow his words. He should really consider quitting law school to become a tv host instead of a lawyer. When everyone’s finally seated, he grabs an empty bowl from the shelf behind him and holds it up into the air, its blue glass catching the light. “Everyone, please write down your names on the slips of paper provided for you, and then we shall begin playing our first game of the night.”

It takes almost ten minutes for everyone to write down their names, mostly because there aren’t enough pens for everyone, so people keep fighting over them. After everyone’s finally done, Seungmin collects the slips of paper again, and puts them in his bowl, shuffling through them. “First game of the night is Seven minutes in Heaven.”, he says, his smile cheeky. You groan internally. He can’t be serious. But apparently, he is - because he fumbles for two paper slips, about to declare the first names. “Fingers crossed for it to be Hyunjin and Minho, just because I wanna see their faces.”, you mumble, and Chan beside you chuckles. “Well now I really want to see that, too.”, he replies in a low voice, leaning closer so you can hear him. You gulp nervously, and are about to answer, when Seungmin clears his throat. “Y/N, Chan? Did you not hear me?”, he asks innocently, and you turn towards him, both your expressions questioning. For someone so cute looking, Seungmin can be really evil sometimes, his smile almost devilish right now. “You’re the first ones up. Now go, have fun. Your seven minutes will begin as soon as you close the door behind you.” You’re actually speechless for once, just blinking at the man in front of you. This can’t be happening. He can’t be serious. There is no way this is a coincidence. You know Seungmin and the other boys too well for that. God, you really should have written all their names into your death note when you had the chance. You’re about to demand for Seungmin to show you the slips of paper in his hand, when - “Uh, well… Let’s go, then.”, Chan finally says, and takes your hand in his to help you up from the floor and drag you towards the little broom cabinet under the stairs.

How very Harry Potter-like.

The last thing you see before Seungmin closes the door in your face, is his stupid smirk.

Oh how much you hate him and the others right now.

It’s dark inside the cabinet, only some light falling through the slits around the door, but it’s too dim to see anything. Dust tickles your nose, and you have to suppress a sneeze. Chan standing opposite you clears his throat. “So.”, he says, and you shift from one foot to the other. The cabinet is small enough for your bodies to be almost touching. You can feel the heat radiating off him and want nothing more than to cuddle to his chest. “So.”, you repeat. “Here we are.”, Chan says. You just chuckle and nervously rub the palms of your hands together, air thick with tension. Before you can say anything else, Chan takes a step closer to you, hot breath fanning over your face. He smells like mint mixed with alcohol. It’s a nice combination, you think. But then again, you’d probably like anything on him. He’s Chan, after all.

Your Chan.

You shiver involuntarily, his close proximity making you almost a bit dizzy. “Are you cold?”, he murmurs, voice low and silky. Goosebumps rise all over your body and you shake your head - until you remember he obviously can’t see it in the darkness. “Not really.”, you whisper back, breath hitching when he suddenly wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest. You can feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand, mirroring your own. “Why did you leave last week?”, he asks, sounding more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard before. You gulp and bite down on your lower lip. Guilt washes over you. “Technically you left first - for Australia, remember?”, you shoot back, a really weak and sad attempt if you’re being honest. “You know I never would have left if I didn’t have to.”, he says, and you sigh. You know that, of course you do. Chan is a nice, good guy, a really nice, good guy. It had been stupid of you to confess your love for him right before he had to go. In the end, your broken heart had been no one’s fault except your own. You take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do - I wasn’t sure how you’d react, waking up next to me after all those months of not talking.”, you confess, voice soft and tiny, and duck your head.

Chan’s hand brushes against your cheek, and he lifts your chin with two fingers. “I would have been happy. I would have kissed you good morning before making you some tea. And then I would have stayed in bed all day, cuddling you and showing you all the cool pictures I took in Australia.”, he murmurs, thumb tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. You exhale, sounding wobbly. “That would have been nice.”, you answer, and can almost feel his bright and relieved smile. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday again. So maybe we can just have a do-over.”, he asks, lips awfully close to your own now. “I think I’d like that - I’d really like that.”, you mumble against his lips, and then - finally - he kisses you. Fireworks burst behind your closed eyelids, and you quickly wrap your arms around Chan’s neck to pull him even closer. Now that you’ve started, it seems you can’t get enough of each other - what starts out as a slow, romantic kiss quickly becomes a clashing of tongues and teeth, and when he bites down on your lower lip, you can’t help but moan into his mouth, a hot, tingling feeling shooting through your entire body. All you can think right now is that you never want this moment to end - you’ve been waiting for this for so long. You’ve been waiting for him to finally find his way to you. And you yourself are just so, so tired of running away from him. Never before has anything ever felt so right.

You’re interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and immediately jump apart, breaking the kiss. You’re both breathless, chests heaving, and even though you can’t see right now, you know that your hair is a total mess, your lips are swollen and your cheeks flushed. “Your seven minutes are over, so you better be decent!”, Minho says from outside, and before either you or Chan can reply, he opens the door. Light floods the tiny cabinet, and you blink against it, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The first thing you see when your eyes have finally gotten used to the brightness again, is Minho’s shit-eating grin. He stands in the hallway with both his arms crossed and head tilted to one side. “Well, well, well. Heaven sure seems to be as magical as they say, huh?”, he just says, and you really want to smack the grin off his stupidly handsome face.

But Chan just laughs, and grabs your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. You’re ready to just faint right there and then, knees almost buckling from the sweet gesture. Who cares about Minho’s stupid grin when Chan is being perfect again. “Truly magical, yes.”, Chan just answers good-humoredly, and tugs you out of the broom closet, “Well, if you’d excuse us now.” And with that, he simply drags you up the stairs and towards his room. “Hey, where you’re going?!”, Minho and Hyunjin yell in unison, and you look over your shoulder to give them a cheeky grin. “Chan has some pictures he wants to show me - someone told me there’s a really cute one where he cuddles a koala. I finally want to see that now.”, you answer innocently, and wink at them. Chan laughs and quickly pulls you close, kissing you again. You ignore the clapping and cheering noises the others make downstairs. God, your friends are really embarrassing sometimes. But maybe you’re not as sorry anymore about not having written any of them into your death note. Because as stupid and embarrassing as they often are, you do truly adore every single one of them. “You know what, I think that particular picture would make a really cute background for your phone.”, Chan murmurs against your lips, and you raise both eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”, you just answer, and smile at him.

… Spoiler alert: it’s actually the perfect background for your phone.

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arashikitten · 3 years

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Why has no one made a Yu Yu Hakusho x Danny Phantom crossover yet?

?I mean, honestly, look at these two shows! Look at them! How is it that no one (that I know of) has made a crossover with them yet? There’s so much potential! I mean honestly! Both are about a 14-year-old who died in or before the first episode, came back to life through some sort of shenanigans, and ended up with supernatural abilities as a result. Both Danny and Yusuke have a very close knit friend group comprised of people who know about said supernatural abilities and help them fight all form of malicious supernatural entities (Danny fights ghosts, Yusuke fights demons). Both Yusuke and Danny have a rival/arch-nemesis who, at the start of the series, is leagues above the protagonists in terms of power, but ends up being surpassed by the main protagonist sometime during the second season of their respective show. Both Vlad and Toguro serve as foils to Danny and Yusuke respectively, and while they may feel some sort of kinship with them for some reason or other, they tend to see the young protagonist as someone who is below them in terms of power, intelligence, and skills (even after that is no longer the case). Both Danny and Yusuke are snarky and seem like delinquents to all but their closest friends, but secretly they have a heart of absolute gold. Both would (and have) died for any one of their friends, and they likely have a metric fuck ton of trauma from the many, many, many times they almost watched their friends and family die right in front of them. And of course, both Danny and Yusuke are likely to become kings of their own supernatural realm (if you disregard DP’s canon in favor of the fanon like I do).

So then the question becomes this: how would a crossover between the two shows go?

Here’s how I see it playing out:

Sometime after the last episode of Yu Yu Hakusho, and right after the events of Reign Storm, Yusuke (who I would say is about 18-19 years old now) gets a call from Koenma for the first time in almost 4 years. Koenma tells Yusuke that he needs him to come back for one final case: investigate a small town in Northeastern America for recent spikes in spiritual and demonic activity.

When Yusuke asks why Koenma wants him to look into what is seemingly a tourist trap town, Koenma tells him that the town was recently encased under a dome of spirit energy, disappeared for almost 24 hours, and then suddenly reappeared again, and Koenma suspects that someone- or something- from spirit world might be responsible.

Three calls and four plane tickets later, Yusuke and the gang land in Illinois and make their way to Amity Park. Kuwabara takes one (1) step into the town and immediately freezes. He’s always been the most spirit-sensitive of the group, and this town is setting off all of his proverbial alarms. Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke also notice something off about the town, like everyone here has way higher spirit energy than normal.

The four make their way through town, noticing more and more as they continue. They notice the massive craters that litter the streets. They notice the constant smell of spirit and demon energy that drenches the town like a fog, covering everything and everyone. They notice the small, silvery-grey and green devices that almost everyone seems to have on their wrist, and Yusuke can’t help but think about how similar they look to the spirit-detecting gadgets he used to have back during the beginning of his detective career. They notice the metal panels that every store seems to have hanging above their windows, waiting to come down and defend from some unknown beast.

They notice how, whenever they appear in an area, everyone in the vicinity goes silent. Tense. Wary of them. Like they know three demons just appeared, even if all of them look human.

Yusuke and his team split up to search through the town and cover more ground, agreeing to meet by the local highschool in two hours. Things just get even weirder from there.

Kurama finds a patch of wild blood blossoms growing near the forest, despite the fact that they were declared extinct more than 200 years ago. Hiei sees a pair of burly men wearing all white suits and dark sunglasses dragging a young man with white hair and sunglasses away for questioning. Kuwabara is surprised when a small, glowing green puppy appears in front of him, only to vanish when he leans down to pet it.

Yusuke finds a massive stone brick building with what almost looks like a UFO perched on top, and huge neon sign with the words FentonWorks on it. Here, the spirit energy is almost suffocating, and it feels like molasses, thick and heavy and dense on Yusuke’s senses. He feels something else though, something that just barely manages to break through the thick ambient spirit energy that swamps this entire block: a ghost. And a powerful one at that.

By the time the group reconvenes at the high school, everyone is tense. They’re sure that there’s something sketchy in this town, but none of them have gotten any concrete leads on what caused the town’s sudden disappearance and reappearance. Almost none of the townsfolk give them any answers, and the few that do are vague and confusing, or outright lies. Kuwabara firmly believes that this town is haunted by ghosts, and that they’re what caused the sudden disappearance, but Yusuke, having been a ghost himself at one point, is less inclined to believe that. Yusuke is convinced that the house with the weird UFO thing and abnormal spirit energy has something to do with it, and the gang agrees that would be the best place to start.

Before they can do that though, they all suddenly sense a MASSIVE spike in spirit energy, coming from the center of town. Yusuke and the gang book it to where the spike is, hoping to get some sort of lead.

Meanwhile, Danny is having a fight with Skulker, made slightly more difficult than normal due to the fact that he’s still recovering from the whole Pariah Dark fiasco. He’s been on edge all day, ever since he sensed that weird ectosignature near his house. He’d felt the typical chill of his ghost sense, but the typical puff of blueish smoke wasn’t present like it usually was. On top of that, he’d felt a small jolt of electricity, too big to be chalked up to static electricity and carrying with it a hint of... something. Something not entirely human.

But when Danny had tried to investigate, he’d come up empty handed. Which as you can guess, made Danny My-friends-and-family-have-all-almost-been-killed-by-a-ghost-disguised-as-a-human-at-least-once Fenton more than a little nervous.

So Danny’s fighting Skulker when he feels that not-quite ghost sense again, except this time it’s even stronger than before and waaaay the hell closer. And now Danny goes from nervous to flat out terrified, because whoever or whatever is triggering his not-quite ghost sense is really fucking strong, and oh fuck are there four of them?! Are they getting closer?!?! Whatever it is is really strong, like almost stronger than Pariah Dark and Danny was barely able to take him down at 100% strength with the enhanced suit, and he no longer has the suit and he still has not fully recovered since then, so how in the fresh hell is he gonna fight four beings who are at least on par with Pariah?

Skulker notices the sudden power spike as well and immediately bounces, leaving Danny to panic over these four insanely powerful entities.

Yusuke and the gang make it just in time to see Skulker leave while Danny hovers in the air, looking like he’s about to blow a gasket. Kurama takes one look at the panicking ghost kid floating above him, notices the weird spirit energy around the kid, and immediately puts two and two together and realizes the kid is a ghost, and a really powerful one. Yusuke, who if you remember spent about a week as a ghost at the age of 14, is confused because I thought ghosts couldn’t be seen by living people? But these bystanders are clearly seeing this kid?

And then Yusuke senses that strange spirit energy he felt when he went by FentonWorks, and he’s like “You were the reason for the weird spirit signature!” at Danny, who panics and flies off because now he thinks these super powerful guys are working for the GiW, and he’d rather not spend the rest of his afterlife on an examination table.

So Danny flies off, hoping to lose Yusuke and his gang, but Yusuke I-used-to-fight-demons-who-could-move-at-the-speed-of-sound-for-fun Urameshi and Hiei have absolutely no problem keeping up with the panicking halfa, and they end up fighting. Yusuke and Hiei want answers, Danny is terrified of being caught by what are possibly government agents, and finally Kurama manages to trap the halfa with ghostly vines.

Unfortunately for Danny, these vines are phase-proof, meaning he can’t escape, and he’s already hurt and exhausted and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold his ghost form.

Yusuke picks up on the ghost’s nervousness immediately, and again assumes that this ghost is the culprit for Amity’s sudden disappearance, demanding to know why he abducted an entire town.

Danny is confused, because what the hell are these people talking about? He never abducted the town? He’s not nearly that powerful?? Before he realizes that oh, these people are trying to figure out why the town disappeared for 24 hours because literally no one outside of Amity Park has any idea why.

So Danny starts to explain what really happened, when his time finally runs out and he detransforms.

Right in front of what he believes to be four government officials.

There are five different reactions.

Hiei goes still. He’s completely silent. This shouldn’t be possible. He wants to believe that this is all a trick, but he can hear that fifth heartbeat that wasn’t there ten seconds ago and he smells that fear scent that only humans have and glamour can only do so much.

Kurama has the calmest reaction. He leans back a little, eyes wide, and lets out a soft “oh”. Yes, this is a surprise to him, but then again, Kurama himself is a demon hiding as a human, with a human family, so he immediately sympathizes with Danny a bit.

Danny is panicking. He’s just revealed his biggest secret to four complete strangers, all of whom are absolutely powerful enough to take him out on their own, and he is terrified that they’ll turn him in to the government. He’s about five seconds from a full-blown panic attack.

Kuwabara freaks out. He’s trying to wrap his mind around this whole thing, because he is 100% sure this kid was a ghost, that he was dead, but now he’s not sensing much of anything and how the hell is this possible???? How can someone be a ghost and a human at the same time???? WHAT????? He’s pulling at his hair as he tries to put the logistics of it together, pacing back and forth.

Yusuke freezes. Suddenly he’s 14 again, floating as he watches his body get carted off as he tries to come to terms with the fact that he’s dead. Then he’s in the temple of the four saint beasts, fighting with everything he has as he watches the love of his life get attacked by monstrous zombies. Then kneeling next to Genkai’s broken and bleeding body, begging her not to go even as she draws her last breath because he couldn’t bear to lose the woman that he’s come to see as family, as the closest thing he’d ever have to a grandmother. Then he’s watching Toguro plunge his hand into Kuwabara’s heart, watching as his best freind gasps for breath because Yusuke wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t strong enough, and he just lost Genkai he can’t loose Kuwabara too-.

And when he looks down at this small, skinny teenager with deep shadows under his eyes and knuckles covered in scars from god-knows haw many fights, he sees himself as he was in the beginning: Just a kid who was thrust into the world of the supernatural without any warning, desperately trying to stay alive and protect the human world despite the fact that he’s only a teenager, and he shouldn’t have to be fighting for his life against these ancient and powerful demons because he’s a kid, dammit!

Yusuke kneels down to get to eye level with the kid. He can’t help the painful twinge in his chest when the kid looks up at him with wide, icy blue eyes, and quietly begs him not to tell anyone, because this kid can’t be much older than he was when he started out as a spirit detective and he sounds absolutely terrified, and Yusuke can’t help but wonder why he sounds so scared of people learning about the whole ghost thing.

“Listen, kid. We’re not going to hurt you. We were sent here to investigate something, and we were hoping you might know something. Can you tell us your name?”

“Danny. D-Danny Fenton.”

“Ok, cool. Don’t worry, none of here are going to tell anyone about... about whatever this is. We just want to know about something that happened here a week ago, and we were hoping you could give us some answers.”

Danny agrees, and Kurama frees him from the vines. After a couple of moments, Danny calms down as he realizes that no, these guys won’t rat him out to the government, and he agrees to answer some of their questions.

The group make their way to the outskirts of the forest, and Danny tells them about his status as a half-ghost: he tells them about his parents, how they were building a portal to the ghost zone (Everyone is more than a little freaked out at that, because now there’s a permanent portal to spirit world that Koenma doesn’t know about), how he’d gone inside to see if he could figure out why it wasn’t working, how it’d turned on while he was inside (Yusuke clenches his fists hard enough to draw blood. Both of the times he’d died had been excruciatingly painful, but at least they’d been quick. Getting electrocuted to death would be beyond agonizing, and getting caught in a portal like that...). He tells them about how his parents despise ghosts, believing them to be cruel, malicious, and emotionless, incapable of feeling pain. He tells them about how he’s TERRIFIED of telling his parents the truth, of telling them that he’s Danny Phantom because that seems to be the ghost they want to capture the most, and he’s seen what they do to the ghosts they capture (Kurama and Yusuke feel sick at that. No wonder the kid was so adamant about keeping this a secret.).

“Does anyone else know? Anyone at all?”

Yusuke breathes a small sigh of relief when Danny tells them that his sister and his two best friends know. That sigh of relief is rescinded when the kid tells them that oh yeah, all the ghosts that are constantly attacking the town? Yeah, they know my secret identity too.

Yusuke has to force himself to move on from that last tidbit because he’s about five seconds from adopting this kid despite being only five years older.

“Ok, neat. That’s... that’s ok. Moving on to why we’re here. We were hoping that you would have some information regarding the sudden disappearance and reappearance of Amity Park a week ago? Do you know why or how it happened?”

Danny talks about how, one week ago, ghosts started pouring out of the portal in unprecedented numbers. How they were terrified, running from something in the ghost zone. How Fright Knight had appeared, declaring the reign of Pariah Dark (Kurama and Hiei suck in a breath. Had... had this kid seriously fought against the fabled ghost king?), and the massive green dome had appeared over the town. How he’d tried to fight Fright Knight off, how another ghost by the name of Vlad Plasmius had shown up and admitted that he was the reason for Pariah Dark’s temporary freedom, how Plasmius had decided to have a temporary truce with Danny in order to defeat Pariah, how Danny had pulled Fright Knight’s sword from the ground and accidentally teleported Amity Park into the Ghost zone, how the entire town had gone under lock down. How he’d stolen the power suit from his parent’s lab to go and face Pariah on his own, and bring Amity back to Earth. How he’d just barely been able to shove Pariah back in the sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, how the power suit had almost completely drained his life energy, how the town had been back on earth when he’d woken up (Again, Yusuke has a flashback to the Temple of the Four Saint Beasts. What is it with the powers that be and sending kids to do life-threatening missions like that?).

Kurama records the entire thing before sending it to Koenma.

When Danny is finally done, he notices that everyone is staring at him. Yusuke is the first one to speak.

“Damn kid, you really fought the king of the Ghost Zone, huh?” Danny stutters for a moment, because this guy is saying it like Danny fought a god or something. Like yeah, it was difficult, but it can’t be that big a deal right?

Then Kurama speaks up. “Danny, I don’t think you understand. There are two ways to crown a king of the Ghost Zone: either the ghost zone itself must choose someone, or the current ghost king must be defeated in battle. You defeated Pariah Dark in battle. Meaning....”

Everyone goes silent for a moment, processing.

Then several things happen at once. Danny, who at this point still hasn’t fully processed that oh yeah, I defeated one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, freaks the hell out because I barely have time to protect one (1) town, how am I going to rule an entire dimension? Kuwabara is flipping his shit again, Hiei is contemplating, and Yusuke.... Yusuke decides screw it, I’m having an apprentice now, and after calming Danny down, he offers to help train him up a bit (Somewhere in spirit world, Genkai starts quietly laughing).

Danny agrees after a moment of deliberation. Yusuke hangs out in Amity for a bit to help Danny. His first interaction with Sam and Tucker is.... interesting. Yusuke snuck up on Sam and Tucker, and Sam promptly punched him in the face and almost broke his nose. But after a bit they start to warm up to him, and eventually Yusuke starts teaching Sam some hand to hand along with Danny.

Vlad makes one appearance while Yusuke is there. He sensed some sort of foreign presence in Amity and wanted to see if he could exploit it, only for Yusuke I-haven’t-slept-in-a-week-and-I-refuse-to-start-now Urameshi to wipe the floor with him. When he asks Danny who the new ghost is, he is surprised to learn that no, Danny is not the only half-ghost in existence, and also that guy is a famous millionaire and also knows my secret identity so maybe let’s not break into his mansion to fight him please? (Yusuke agrees not to after a very lengthy argument. Still, the whole situation reminds him a little too much of Toguro and the Dark tournament, and he quietly asks Koenma to open an investigation into this Vlad Plasmius guy.)

Yusuke’s introduction to Danny’s parents goes... surprisingly well, actually. Aside from one small incident where one of the Fenton ghost detectors lock on to Yusuke’s signature, everything goes fairly well. Jack and Maddie take a shine to him almost immediately, when they see him curb stomp Skulker with a practiced ease that only a professional should have, and within the week Yusuke is an honorary member of the Fenton family.

There’s a lot more, but this post is waaaay too long as it is. Feel free to add on!

#Danny Phantom #yu yu hakusho #yusuke urameshi #danny fenton #Danny phantom crossover #Seriously tho why has no one done this one yet?#It would be so interesting #ESPECIALLY if Yusuke is older here #The dynamic between Yusuke and Danny would be so damn fun #I imagine it's similar to Genkai and Yusuke's relationship #Speaking of Genkai #The MOMENT she finds out that yusuke is training someone #She busts her way out of spirit world so she can find out who it is #she wants to know who her grandkid is teaching dammit!#she takes one look at Danny and is just like #Looks like I'm adopting yet another snarky half dead fourteen year-old #Also Danny can totally see her #and it throws her for one hell of a loop #Danny floats up to her and is like yo what's up?#and Genkai's chill abt it on the outside #on the inside tho #she's like #*surprised pikachu face*#Hiei #Kurama #yyh kuwabara #koenma #i will pay whoever writes this 50 dollars #jk i don't have any money #but like

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traeumenvonbuechern · 3 years

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June Wrap-Up

1. Can't Take That Away (Steven Salvatore)

Carey Parker dreams of being a diva, and bringing the house down with song. But despite their talent, emotional scars from an incident with a homophobic classmate and their grandmother's spiraling dementia make it harder and harder for Carey to find their voice. Then Carey meets Cris, a singer/guitarist who makes Carey feel seen for the first time in their life. With the rush of a promising new romantic relationship, Carey finds the confidence to audition for the role of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, in the school musical, setting off a chain reaction of prejudice by Carey's tormentor and others in the school. It's up to Carey, Cris, and their friends to defend their rights--and they refuse to be silenced.

2. Sanditon (Jane Austen)

Written in the last months of Austen's life, Sanditon features a glorious cast of hypochondriacs and speculators in a newly established seaside resort, and shows the author contemplating a changing society with scepticism and amusement. It tells the story of Charlotte Heywood, who is transported by a chance accident from her rural hometown to Sanditon, where she is exposed to the intrigues and dalliances of a small town determined to reinvent itself - and encounters the intriguingly handsome Sidney Parker.

3. The Witch King (H.E. Edgmon)

Wyatt would give anything to forget where he came from—but a kingdom demands its king. In Asalin, fae rule and witches like Wyatt Croft…don’t. Wyatt’s betrothal to his best friend, fae prince Emyr North, was supposed to change that. But when Wyatt lost control of his magic one devastating night, he fled to the human world. Now a coldly distant Emyr has hunted him down. Despite transgender Wyatt’s newfound identity and troubling past, Emyr has no intention of dissolving their engagement. In fact, he claims they must marry now or risk losing the throne. Jaded, Wyatt strikes a deal with the enemy, hoping to escape Asalin forever. But as he gets to know Emyr, Wyatt realizes the boy he once loved may still exist. And as the witches face worsening conditions, he must decide once and for all what’s more important—his people or his freedom.

4. One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston)

For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train. Jane. Dazzling, charming, mysterious, impossible Jane. Jane with her rough edges and swoopy hair and soft smile, showing up in a leather jacket to save August’s day when she needed it most. August’s subway crush becomes the best part of her day, but pretty soon, she discovers there’s one big problem: Jane doesn’t just look like an old school punk rocker. She’s literally displaced in time from the 1970s, and August is going to have to use everything she tried to leave in her own past to help her. Maybe it’s time to start believing in some things, after all.

5. Between Perfect and Real (Ray Stoeve)

Dean Foster knows he’s a trans guy. He’s watched enough YouTube videos and done enough questioning to be sure. But everyone at his high school thinks he’s a lesbian—including his girlfriend Zoe, and his theater director, who just cast him as a “nontraditional” Romeo. He wonders if maybe it would be easier to wait until college to come out. But as he plays Romeo every day in rehearsals, Dean realizes he wants everyone to see him as he really is now––not just on the stage, but everywhere in his life. Dean knows what he needs to do. Can playing a role help Dean be his true self?

6. The Cruel Prince (Holly Black)

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

7. Boy Queen (George Lester)

Robin Cooper’s life is falling apart. While his friends prepare to head off to university, Robin is looking at a pile of rejection letters from drama schools up and down the country, and facing a future without the people he loves the most. Everything seems like it’s ending, and Robin is scrabbling to find his feet. Unsure about what to do next and whether he has the talent to follow his dreams, he and his best friends go and drown their sorrows at a local drag show, where Robin realises there might be a different, more sequinned path for him . . . With a mother who won't stop talking, a boyfriend who won't acknowledge him and a best friend who is dying to cover him in glitter make up, there's only one thing for Robin to do: bring it to the runway.

8. Felix Ever After (Kacen Callender)

Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle.... But as he navigates his complicated feelings, Felix begins a journey of questioning and self-discovery that helps redefine his most important relationship: how he feels about himself.

9. Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë)

Lockwood, the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange on the bleak Yorkshire moors, is forced to seek shelter one night at Wuthering Heights, the home of his landlord. There he discovers the history of the tempestuous events that took place years before: of the intense passion between the foundling Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw, and her betrayal of him. As Heathcliff's bitterness and vengeance is visited upon the next generation, their innocent heirs must struggle to escape the legacy of the past.

10. Ace of Spades (Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé)

Welcome to Niveus Private Academy, where money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because anonymous texter, Aces, is bringing two students' dark secrets to light. Talented musician Devon buries himself in rehearsals, but he can't escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Head girl Chiamaka isn't afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they're planning much more than a high-school game...

11. The Queer Principles of Kit Webb (Cat Sebastian)

Kit Webb has left his stand-and-deliver days behind him. But dreary days at his coffee shop have begun to make him pine for the heady rush of thievery. When a handsome yet arrogant aristocrat storms into his shop, Kit quickly realizes he may be unable to deny whatever this highborn man desires. In order to save himself and a beloved friend, Percy, Lord Holland must go against every gentlemanly behavior he holds dear to gain what he needs most: a book that once belonged to his mother, a book his father never lets out of his sight and could be Percy’s savior. More comfortable in silk-filled ballrooms than coffee shops frequented by criminals, his attempts to hire the roughly hewn highwayman, formerly known as Gladhand Jack, proves equal parts frustrating and electrifying. Kit refuses to participate in the robbery but agrees to teach Percy how to do the deed. Percy knows he has little choice but to submit and as the lessons in thievery begin, he discovers thievery isn’t the only crime he’s desperate to commit with Kit. But when their careful plan goes dangerously wrong and shocking revelations threaten to tear them apart, can these stolen hearts withstand the impediments in their path?

12. Weekend Girl (Alex Powell)

Ashley Kingston is a genderfluid university student with a major crush on attractive and charming Nolan. He seems just too perfect to be true. What happens when Ash meets Nolan while dressed as both a man, and a woman? And even more confusing, what happens when Nolan seems enamoured of both versions of Ash? A twisty-turny romance filled with fun and shenanigans.

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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In the End (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Inspired by the popular Tik Tok trend; Reid walks in on Reader taking off his/her/their promise ring after they’ve broken up.

Couple: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader Category: soft angst?? I don’t really know Content Warning: Mild heartbreak and angst, momentarily sad Spencer Word Count: 1.3k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“So I see you’re still wearing the ring.” Tara gestured toward the band of gold on my finger with her coffee cup, making the contents of the container stir audibly.

Before she pointed it out, I didn’t notice I still had it on, much less that I was playing with it.

She must’ve interpreted my fidgeting as an expression of my subconscious deliberation on whether or not it belonged there anymore, which wouldn’t have been entirely wrong.

Did it belong anymore?

I didn’t know.

“Wasn’t that his college class ring?”

“Yeah, it was,” I broke into a small smile. “When he graduated, he was only sixteen, so he got the ring to fit his finger back then. Of course, he grew out of it, and eventually, he gave it to me.” I managed to recite the story with no other emotion, other than a weak laugh, which was surprising actually.

Perhaps I wasn’t as torn as I thought I was considering I was able to recite a memory that used to bring me to happy tears with a cold indifference now.

“Why’d he give it to you?” “I used to constantly pick at my cuticles whenever I got nervous and most times I’d do it and I wouldn’t even realize I was doing it until I picked at them for so long that my skin started to bleed. He noticed it and came into work one morning with the ring. He gave it to me only after I promised him that I’d fiddle with it instead of picking at my cuticles.”

Truth be told, it worked.

Whenever there was turbulence on the jet, or I took too long to put pieces together, or a child was missing for more than 24 hours, I played with the ring, spinning it around my finger in slow circles. It was a better substitute than I imagined it would be.

“It’s funny actually because when he put the ring on my finger, we both saw how perfectly it fit me. Like it was made just for me.” This was a distant memory, but I smiled just as widely as I did when it happened all those years ago.

“That’s a really sweet story, Y/N,” She put a comfortingly hand on top of my fidgeting ones, forcing me to look at her, instead of the aforementioned jewelry.

“You don’t have to take it off, you know? I didn’t take my wedding ring off for months after Daryl and I divorced. When I told him about it, he said that it was endearing that I kept the ring - and I think it’d be endearing if you kept Spencer’s.”

I frowned and shrugged, still toying with the piece of jewelry. “But that’s different. That was a wedding ring. Of course, you kept it, but this?” I tugged the ring off of my finger harshly and pinched it between my thumb and index finger, holding it up to Tara’s face. “This is just a stupid promise ring.”

I refixed my gaze from the gold band to Tara, who was looking right past me. I held my breath when her eyes glanced back at me and her eyebrows furrowed - she looked absolutely mortified. And I was about to be, too.

I peered hastily over my shoulder, already knowing who I was going to see standing there.

My heart broke in two when I saw him stuck in the entryway with his eyes locked on the object between my fingers. I felt even worse when I saw one of his hands clutching the strap of his crossbody satchel while the other was in his pocket. He looked exactly like how he always looked when he entered the room - casually and carelessly - but after what he just walked into, he froze in his place, bewildered by the sight.

Right away, I was stricken with guilt. I frantically tried to pick up the pieces of my destruction, hoping for a reprieve.

“Spence, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not a stupid ring, I was just-”

“Do you not want to wear it anymore?” His voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t catch it breaking halfway through.

I turned back to Tara as if reading her face would give me the answer I desperately needed, but she was as confounded as I was.

By the time I looked back at Reid again, he was pushing past Prentiss and rushing right back into the bullpen.

“Hey, Spencer -”

Reid dodged her completely and wordlessly stormed off.

“Reid!” Prentiss leaned to the side to get a better view of him and continued to call out to him until he was out of range. “Reid!”

She turned back to me and Tara, recognizing the same sad look in my eyes that she did in Reid’s.

“Oh no . . . don’t tell me this is about -”

“It’s not. Don’t worry.” I turned on my heels (A/N: This is not to be taken literally; the reader isn’t actually wearing high heels; it’s merely an idiom) and took my seat again, cowering my head to hide my distress from the team as they entered the room.

Don’t ask me why, but I thought shutting it down before anyone else came into the conference room meant that it would go away, or that no one would notice. But I quickly realized that would’ve only worked if I wasn’t in a room with people who studied human behavior and the nuances of it.

“So what’s up with you today?” I heard Rossi ask from behind me.

I immediately regretted making a trip to the water cooler, forgetting how it was an opportunity to catch me alone and back me into a corner from which I could not escape.

“And don’t give me that ‘Nothing. I’m fine’ crap.” He raised his eyebrows to suggest he expected my sincerest answer.

“Honestly?” I asked.

He nodded.

“I thought we could go back to work and everything would be okay, but it’s only 10 a.m, and we’re already breaking each other’s hearts all over again.”

Rossi put a hand on my shoulder and sighed. “What you two have -” He paused. “What you two had, that isn’t gonna go away overnight. Especially if it was real. And we all know that it was. And when it comes to something as precious as true love, it needs to be handled with the utmost delicacy if you intend on preserving it. Me and Krystall - we didn’t work out back then, and I accepted that. But look at us now. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. And I think a part of the reason why is because I never stopped loving her. And imagine that - me? In love? As jaded as I am, I still loved her as deeply as I loved her back then.”

I laughed weakly and judging from Rossi’s smile after my laugh, that was his intention.

“Now, take Spencer. Kid’s got a heart of gold. And if I can love, he can, too. And he does. He loves you, Y/N . . . you know that right?”

“Yeah.”

“So take it from me - don’t be so eager to squander the relationship or rid yourself of any love you have for him. Hold on that love. Because if I’ve learned anything from marrying Krystall, it’s that there is such a thing as the right person but the wrong time. Okay, kiddo?” Rossi put his hand on my cheek gently and I leaned into his caress. He grinned before walking away, leaving me to my devices.

Don’t ask me how I knew, but I looked up from my dixie cup of water and right at the glass doors.

He paused when I caught his gaze.

I raised my hand to wave at him with a bittersweet smile. And to my surprise, he raised his hand briefly off his satchel to wave a little back.

Maybe it’s supposed to be us in the end . . .

But it’s not supposed to be us right now.

And like a bad habit I couldn’t shake, my fingers returned to the ring, spinning it in slow circles.

He saw . . . and he smiled.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#spencer reid angst #angst #fluff #drabble #one shot #criminal minds #spencer reid kiss #gender neutral reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gender neutral reader #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds oneshot

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