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multiversediaries · 3 months ago

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LOVE BRUISES

⤷ BUCKY BARNES X READER

Summary: A passionate night with Bucky caused a painful cervix bruise. Now all healed up, your boyfriend is scared to hurt you again.

Warning: soft and very cute, domestic buck! mentions of sex, small smut!

Part count: 1/2

A/N: hope you all enjoy! i absolutely adore domestic buck <3 apologies for any mistakes! english is not my first language :( i recently had eye surgery so my vision is a bit impaired! please do let me know of any grammatical mistakes!!

Your eyes widen at the intense pain you were currently feeling. A curse slipped from your lips, as you tried sitting on your shared bed. It was the day after an intense night with your long time boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.

Bucky could be rough at times, not that you hated it. In the contrary, you would find yourself begging the Winter Soldier to touch you, and pound you harder. But it seems like yesterday was too much for you to handle.

You made your way towards your bathroom, trying to continue on with your day. But the awful pain in your back and abdomen was driving you absolutely inside.

Samuel leaned back into his chair, staring at you, as you walked into the living room. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you were walking.

“You good?” Sam chuckled, crossing his arms infront of his chest. You shot him an annoyed look, shaking your head. You walked up to the couch, attempting to sit down without hurting yourself even more. “Rough night?” Sam teased you, raising an eyebrow at you. You snickered at him, knowing he probably heard you both last night. You remember how loud you were, not that your sore throat was any reminder.

“Too rough, it seems.” You replied, biting your lip. It was embarrassing to talk about this with Sam, but you were all so close to each other.

“No shit.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back whilst laughing still. You shook your head softly, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling a bit nauseous now. Sam’s laughter soon died down, as he saw your pained expression. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m fine! I swear.” You started, waving your arms in front of you, to try and stop Sam from panicking. “Bucky’s just… a big man, y’know? And we can get pretty… Let’s just say it was bound to happen.” You blushed at your own words. Bucky was much bigger than you, in height and built.

“I think I should get checked up, though. Pain’s pretty bad.” You continued, trying to change the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about your sex life to Bucky’s best friend. Sam sat up straight, biting his lip in worry.

“Shit, maybe he bruised you.” Sam said softly. This was probably it. It happens all the time, but this was your very first time experiencing something like this. You sighed softly, nodding your head.

“Do you mind distracting Buck while I go? Don’t want him to worry about this.” You asked.

“Oh, that ain’t gon’ work. Don’t you know the man?” Sam shook his head, knowing how overprotective Bucky was with you.

“Oh, come on, Sam. I won’t be long, just distract him—“

“Distract me from what?” You heard the man of the hour say softly. You closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip. Great. You slowly turned to look at him, staring at his serious expression. A smile instantly appeared in your lips, being so whipped for your boyfriend. His expression softened by your sweet face, now walking closer to you in the couch.

“Nothing. Just wanna get checked up really quick.” You said gently, trying to avoid certain words to prevent any worry from him. However, he knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were hiding something from him.

“Checked up? For what?”

“Oh, just—”

“She’s sore.” Sam started, your eyes widen quickly before quickly turning to look at Sam, your eyes begging him to shut up. “From last night.” He continued, and you couldn’t help but sigh, Bucky’s eyes widen, quickly meeting yours. He took in the sight of you, as if looking for discomfort and pain.

“What?— Did I hurt you, doll?” Bucky’s voice softened, his hands cupping your face, now kneeling in front of you. You could’ve sworn you almost melted into your seat.

“No, Buck, of course not!” You started, shaking your head, your hands laying on top of his in your face. You genuinely didn’t want him to worry or even worse, blame himself. You heard him sigh, knowing deep inside you were lying. He could feel your tense muscles; probably from the pain.

“I’ll take you to the clinic, okay?” He continued to softly speak to you. You sighed gently as his loving hands left your face to gently caress your thigh.

Cervical bruising.

God, it was extremely embarrasing to hear your doctor explain how to practice safe sex right in front of your long term partner. You remember how awkward the drive home was. Silent. Not uncomfortable, you could never be uncomfortable with Bucky, but you could just tell he felt terrible for overworking you that night.

Nights have passed awfully slow. You felt restless. Probably because your usually, very physically loving boyfriend rarely touched you. It was as if Bucky was somewhat scared of hurting you with his touch. Scared that a single caress could break you. The first nights, he even went as far as making a wall out of your extra pillows, just to be extra sure he wouldn't roll over you or embrace you at night. You ensured him it was not necessary, but after the advices of your doctor to hopefully ease your pain, Bucky was adamant to your safely and comfort. Bucky even went as far as getting you a heating pad, as your doctor explained how it would help with the pain. He just wanted you to be safe and healthy.

Bur you only craved the touch of your gentle soldier. For these endless couple of nights, Bucky would shower before bed, as usual, and hop into his side of the bed. He'd place a sweet, awfully short peck to your lips, roll on his side and fall asleep. It started to hurt your feelings how he seemed to rest so well without hugging you through the night. Soon enough, a couple of nights had passed since your small, and embarrassing injury. You felt as if you were going insane. You weren't only craving the sweet embrace of your man at night, you were also so incredibly horny.

You felt like a teenager, getting excited by the single sight of Bucky resetting his metal arm, or by the way his necklace would dangle over your face whenever he would help you to bed. It was the smallest things that would just get you going. You were currently watching as Sam and Bucky continued to fix Sam's family boat, standing by a pole, gently leaning on it. Bucky was wearing a short sleeve grey t-shirt, that accentuated his muscles perfectly. It brought butterflies to your stomach as Bucky noticed your frame, his attention now on his beautiful girl.

"Wait inside, baby. Don't want you to stand in the sun like that." Bucky spoke, a bit loud for you to hear. You smiled at him, shaking your head.

"It's okay! I'm a bit bored inside... Anything I can help with?"

"Yeah, actually! Grab that-"

"Sam." Bucky leaned over to softly slap Sam's chest. "No. She's supposed to be resting.' He continued, earning a small groan to leave your lips. Sam chuckled, raising his arms up in defense. Bucky wiped his greasy hands, walking towards you right after. "Doctor's orders." He said, his voice stern yet so incredibly loving, as if he were still worried. "I'll get you a chair, mhm? You can watch us or somethin." He mumbled, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek, before walking away. You let out a big sigh, closing your eyes in annoyance.

"Doctor's orders, he said." Sam mocked, a smirk in his face. A small grin appeared on your lips as you heard him mock your overprotecting boyfriend.

"I'm okay now. It happened almost two weeks ago and he's still..." You started, walking a bit closer to Sam. It was true. You felt all back to normal, and had been feeling this way for a few days now. No pain, no discomfort. You just felt needy.

"Y’know he's all intense like that." Sam said, offering you a small smile, while still working on the boar. You nodded, shrugging your shoulders. Bucky was just very overprotective over you, you knew this. It wasn't out of character for him to act this way. But now that you were all healed, you couldn't help but feel a bit bad, a bit unwanted even.

You spent the entire day, sitting, watching them work. Whenever you'd try to help, your sergeant of a boyfriend would order you back to your seat. You were only allowed to do small work, like hold their tools, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Here you stood, by the first floor of the boat, holding a screw driver as Bucky tried to fix the motor. You were so incredibly bored, but your mind was definitely active, dirty thoughts filling your mind. His grey shirt was now wet, and stained. It hugged his body even better than before.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky chuckled as he watched you, watching him. He had noticed a while ago, yet had decided to not mention it, loving your gaze on him. Your cheeks flushed, nodding your head.

"You look good." You simply said, your ears turning red. embarrassed by being caught staring. There was just so much tension between you, sexual tension.

"Yeah?" Bucky cockily asked, tilting his head, to follow your eyes as you tried hiding your flushed expression. He had even placed his tools down, now fully entertaining you. You nodded your head, now staring into his eyes, giggling softly. Your laugh died very quickly now swallowing hard as you took in how close he was.

His hands took their place in your hips. He felt you shake at his touch, noticing his effect on you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breathing by your cheek. Bucky licked his lips, his eyes roaming your entire body, fully checking you out. His breath hitched, watching you be so visibly affected by him. It was so obvious how both of you were so deprived of one another.

You don't even remember who started the kiss. You just know your hands were now tangled in his soft hair, as Bucky devoured your mouth. There was no point in stopping the moans and whimpers that left your mouth, you were in pure bliss. Your tongues continued to explore each other's mouth, kissing passionately. Bucky would pull away for air, hissing in between kisses, genuinely feeling as if he were going insane. He was desperate. So desperate that his hands lifted you up, sitting you down on the same motor he had been trying to fix earlier. He now stood between your legs, his hands cupping your head, kissing you deeply and lovingly.

"Oh, baby..." Bucky whimpered once he pulled away for air yet again. Both your chests rising up and down, already exhausted by your very heated make out session. Bucky's hands ran ro your thighs, gently rubbing them continiously. His eyes were closed, and his forehead stayed glued to yours. Your eyes opened, missing the feeling of his lips on yours, needing more of him. You hummed, in confusion, yet Bucky's eyes stayed closed, wetting his lips. He seemed to be containing himself. His hands on your thighs now squeezing them, trying to calm him eager and lust down. You could simply tell he was holding back from loving you.

No.

You connected your lips yet again, grabbing ahold of his shirt, and crashing your lips together, where they belonged. You refused to go down without a fight. You refused to let him get away. A moan left his lips, his hands starting to run to your waist, needing to feel you yet again. It felt so good, so right. Your heads continued to tilt, allowing each other access ro just eat each other's lips. You remember his tongue brushing over your bottom lip, God, it was all so messy. Goosebumps cpvered your entire skin, this was his effect on you. This heaven of yours was adrumptedly interrupted yet again. Bucky has disconnected your lips, his hands now gripping your thighs yet again.

"Y/N..." his breath shuttered. God, he was so desperate and you knew this. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you could just tell by the way he refused to meet your eyes that he was holding back. You could tell by the way his body seemed to not want to obey his words, still caressing you.

"No, doll. We…” Buck tried saying, one of his hands now running through his face, as shaky breaths left his mouth. He was long gone. It was taking everything in him. “Shit, we can’t.”

"What?"

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, his hands now on your waist, caressing your exposed skin with his thumbs. He sighed shakily, trying to get his breathing under control. He was scared to hurt you again. He was scared he'd lose control like he had done last tine, and hurt you. You gulped as you watched him, searching for a response in his face.

"Can hurt you again, baby. You haven't even healed."

"Bucky..." Your hands now laid on top of his. "I'm all healed up! I promise." You started, earning a few shakes of his head. "Yes, Buck. It hasn't hurt for a while now."

Bucky simply shook his head yet again. A big sigh left his lips, as he now hid his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck. Your arms carefully wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling your loving boyfriend leave soft, wet kisses on your sweet skin. You couldn't stop yourself from shuttering at the gesture. Only after a few seconds, Bucky leaned back, pecking your red lips just one more time, before helping you down to your feet. He took a deep breath, and long look at you, before turning back to continue his work on the motor. The motor he almost took you on top of just now.

You frowned deeply, your head almost dropping in defeat. You put your hair in a ponytail, feeling hot after everything that had just happened. You wanted to be mad, really, you did. But how could you? When this man loved you so much he kept holding himself back in fears of possibly hurting you? You were just... upset. How would you convince this man of yours you had healed? and that he could never hurt you?

"I'm 'bout to come down." You both heard Sam announce from above. You both chuckled at Sam, shaking your head softly. Bucky grinned widely, watching as Sam came down the stairs cautiously.

“Why are you the way you are?” Bucky said between chuckles, grabbing a hold of his tools yet again.

"Y'all are forbidden from doin' it inside my family boat, I hope y'all know that." Sam mumbled, walking towards the both of you. Bucky snickered, softly hitting him in the shoulder. You laughed a bit, leaning back and watchihg them work.

Your mind soon went back to the same question...

How would you take those negative thoughts out of the mind of James Barnes? When would you feel the loving touch of your boyfriend again?

Fucking cervix bruise.

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witherby · 5 months ago

Note

Also,,, since littlest Wayne is adopted (I’m pretty sure?) what if their birth parent(s) start looking for them, what would the Batman do? (Doesn’t have to be like a whole story just a question lol)

-🔱

Fantastic question. They simply aren't getting you back.

You would have died out there, lying on the cold ground outside the unoccupied fire station, if Bruce hadn't gone on patrol that night. Bruce remembers building a makeshift incubator for you in the bat cave and monitoring your vitals for a solid two hours, so frightened you would succumb to the cold and die because he didn't find you fast enough. He remembers bundling you up for weeks afterwards, in the day and night, to the point where Alfred had to make him quit it because you were then at risk for over-heating.

Bruce found you. Bruce brought you home. Bruce's sons took you in as another member of the family. Bruce's teammates look to you as a little nibling. Bruce signed your adoption papers. Bruce stepped up and loved you where your parents did not. Bruce is your fucking dad, and he'll die before he let's that willingly change.

I can only see them coming in to try to claim you if:

1. Your mother never intended on giving you up permanently, just surrendering you to the system for a couple years until she could get it together enough to come back and care for you properly.

2. Your parent(s) changed their mind and tried looking for you in the adoption circuit after a couple of years. Maybe with the extra motivation of unsuccessfully carrying another baby to term after several attempts besides you.

Or 3. They recognized your features. You don't look like Bruce's biological kid, so if they saw you living it up as a Wayne I'd imagine they might try to nudge their way back into contact with you to reap the spoils of your new, cushy lifestyle.

Regardless of the how or the why, if your biological parents try to take back custody of you, then they're shit out of luck. You're a Wayne, now.

#el speaks #littlest wayne au #batfam x reader #🔱

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jeonstudios · 8 months ago

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fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights.��

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being.

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option.

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime.

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal.

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.”

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place.

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes.

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest.

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context.

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third.

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that.

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold.

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?”

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there.

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside.

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course.

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over.

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all.

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out.

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always.

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after.

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so.

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty.

“I scare you?”

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed.

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it.

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy.

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill.

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible.

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems.

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one.

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob.

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why.

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator.

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then.

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms.

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes.

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans.

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something.

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you.

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

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lockeswoodss · 2 months ago

Text

The Crimson Glow: Chapter 1

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MDNI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You had long given up on meeting your soulmates. At 33, you felt like you'd miss the window. Pathetic off white pink strings, that had only darkened twice, were your only claim to them. That was until you started your across-state journey from Philly to P-burgh. Feeling brash after a recent breakup you threw caution to the wind and applied for a job across your home state. To your surprise, you were hired. With the encouragement of your close friends and brother, you committed to the new experience. For once, you were excited for adventure, that was until your strings began to darken.

CW: none? I guess cursing? If you see something please let me know 💛

A/N: While this chapter does not include smut there will be some in future chapters; it's a slow burn. Smut chapters will be labeled

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin (also the requester of this prompt ^-^)

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It would be an understatement to say that you’ve grown pessimistic when it comes to your soulmates. I mean fuck you were in your early thirties and your soul link of red strings had only changed from a pale pink twice in your life before going back to the default light pink. Yes, strings plural. You were part of the 2% of Americans who are estimated to have more than one soulmate. Despite this occurring in 1 in 50 people, your parents were from a generation where those who had more than one soulmate were ostracized. In turn, they had trained you since you were able to talk to only refer to one string. It had been ingrained in you to the extent that even now, as an adult, you had only told less than five people outside of your family about having two soulmates. Two of which were close friends, and the other two were past long-term relationships. Fuck what you wouldn’t give for a quote of your first words, or a countdown timer. Anything other than this off-white string that had been hanging over your head since childhood.

You knew that you could only be mad at fate to a certain extent. You had chosen to be career driven and bet on sure things rather than chasing after strings that had been stagnant for almost your whole life. In a way, you wish you could be as carefree as your twin brother. Benjamin, ever the romantic, took what was supposed to be a gap year from undergrad to grad school to find his mate. He headed east to Europe and backpacked across the entire continent before finding his soulmate, now husband, in Sicily. He ended up settling in London with his soulmate, Dante, eleven years ago and never looked back. Your parents’ reaction to his “lifestyle choices” was the final nail in the coffin before you both went no contact. You were the only thing left trying him to the US. You visited him at least once a year and talked regularly. You always wished you could be as carefree as he was. Despite your own situation, you were beyond happy for your brother. If not a bit envious, which led you to now, you pulled off at a rest station off of Route 76 on the verge of a panic attack.

You had just passed Harrisburg, two hours into your journey west from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. For the first time ever both your strings were red, overlapped and darkening as you got closer to Pittsburgh. You didn’t know what to do or how to process this new information. Your strings had been overlapped for about two years now, and you had dealt with and accepted the fact that your soulmates had most likely found each other. No, it was the darkening that threw you for a loop. This had only happened twice, the first time the string had gone from off-white to red only to turn back light pink within a few hours. That same string, pointing east across the Atlantic, had briefly turned black to grey back to light pink. You’d never forget that day one of your soulmates had almost died. Your sting had gone black for a minute and 57 seconds.

You shook your head, dismissing that thought; you were already stressed as it was.

You don’t know how Benji and your friend, a Pittsburgh native, had convinced you to take life by the reins and be impulsive. Between your recent breakup and a job opportunity across the state, you had made the improbable choice. You quit your job and got an apartment on the other side of the state. You regret it now, dread building in your gut. You weren’t spontaneous, no, you were practical and thorough. You didn’t take these kinds of risks.

Fuck, you felt like you were going to throw up. You quickly exited your maps app. Your thumb was over your brother’s contact info when your call screen suddenly took over displaying an incoming call from him. You picked up before the first ring had ended.

“You’re okay,” Ben’s voice rang out before you even had the chance to greet him. The wails of your nephew faint in the background.

“I-” You started, voice shaky, you paused before taking a breath.

“It’s okay,” he said once again, voice level.

“They’re red Ben, like properly red, like the ones in the movies.” You responded, you somehow managed to get the words out evenly, before taking another deep breath.

“Sis, that’s a good thing,” he responded, smile clear in his voice.

“No, I don’t know what to do,” you sighed, pressing your forehead flush with the top of the steering wheel, “I always know what to do Ben.”

“It’s okay to not know what’s to come, most people don’t know what’s going to happen before they meet their soulmate. You just have to lean on fate for a bit before going back to being a know-it-all,” he joked, hoping to lighten your mood.

“Okay,” you sighed, breathing going back to normal. “But what if I’m not what they’re expecting?”

“Then they’ll be pleasantly surprised,” He responded,

“What if it’s a bad time? Or if I meet them before making it to Pittsburgh?” You ask.

“There’s no perfect time to meet your mates, and if you meet them before Pittsburgh, you’ll figure it out. Like you always do.” He said comfortingly,

“What if-what if they don’t want me?” you said, finally voicing your deepest concern.

“Sis,” he replied softly, his voice just loud enough to register on his phone’s mic.

“I’m just-Fuck, I’m a mess, I start at my new job in less than two days, my apartment isn’t set up, and I definitely needed to do a everything shower this morning, but gaslighted myself into not washing my hair.” You sighed, “Just,” you breathed, “What if I’m not good enough?” Your voice wavered.

“Hey, watch your tone, I know you’re not bad mouthing my sister. Not the one that put herself through college, a master’s program, and a licensing process to become an art therapist. Not the woman who devotes everything to her patients within boundaries. Not the one who worked pro bono at a grief summer camp because of a staffing shortage. Or on top of everything is an amazing artist. Cuz she’s an empathetic badass, who is way too smart to say any of that shit.” Ben responded.

“Ben,” you said, sniffled, eyes watering.

“You’re going to be okay. They are lucky to be blessed with your presence and happy to meet you. If not, I’ll fuck them up.”

You let out a wet laugh, a single tear escaping each of your eyes as you blinked.

“Thanks,” you sniffled, a soft smile on your lips.

“No problem. What are big brothers for?” he asked, jokingly.

“Just cuz you cut in line does not make you older.” You responded to a lifelong debate with an eyeroll he’d never see, “Sorry for falling apart on you.”

“Sis, I’m sleep training a five-month-old, who is on what I hope is the tail end of colic. You were a much-needed break.”

“Tell Atlas his auntie loves him.” You said, taking one last deep breath. The weight gone from your chest.

“I will.” You could hear the softness in his voice shift, Atlas most likely finally calming down for Dante in the other room, “If you need anything, feel free to call.”

“I will, love you,” you reply.

“Love you too,” he responded before you clicked off the call.

You took a deep breath; you plugged your phone back into its charging port and clicked on maps and cued up a hip-hop mix. You shifted from park to drive and merged back onto I-76. You took one last stop two hours in, but it just made you more tired. You white knuckled it until you got to the parking garage adjacent to your building. Your strings continued to darken, color plateaued when you drove into the city’s limits. They weren’t overlapping anymore. On was pointing up, something you’d never seen before, and the other was pointing off to the right as you face your apartment building. You texted Ben and your friend who lived in the city that you got in safely. You unloaded your backpack and a single suitcase that held all your valuables. For the first time, you found yourself liking the annoying squeaks of its broken wheel. It was something familiar.

After you locked your car, the next half hour was a blur. You signed the final paperwork at the office and got your keys. You boarded the elevator and clicked on the tenth floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as the red string that was pointing upward started to move laterally down, while the other started to point down. The above one kept moving downward until it was back to the height of your palm. Was this it? Were you about to meet your soulmate? Despite bitching about not meeting them for the better part of thirty years you felt wildly unprepared. The ding of your floor snapped you out of your daze.

Were they living on the same floor as you?

You shook your head, turning left as the building manager had directed you. You slowly made your way down the hall; your suitcase’s broken wheel squeaking was the only noise. Your head snapped down as you passed the last apartment on the right before yours. The string was bright crimson, bolder than you had ever seen before. As you walked on, the string went through you, through the wall into that apartment.

You paused. But then there was nothing? Maybe they were asleep? It was four in the afternoon, but you weren’t really one to judge; you always loved a good nap. That or maybe they worked nights? After waiting for a beat, you slowly walked down to your apartment door, keeping an eye on the door as you opened yours.

Maybe this was okay? While you were desperate to meet them, you also had just completed an over five-hour drive, and you felt and you’re sure, looked like hot garbage. You gave yourself no time to take in the apartment before crossing through the sea of reusable boxes to your bedroom. You quickly tossed your backpack on the sheetless mattress resting on a built bed frame. You pulled out the lounge wear you packed along with a towel and washcloth from one of the totes before rushing to the bathroom. If you were gonna meet them today you were gonna have clean hair god dammit. You turned on the water as you stripped, your string remaining solitary to the one spot in your neighbor’s apartment. You unpacked your toiletries onto the shower’s ledges before jumping in. Your nerves got to you again, loitering in the shower as long as you could justify. After drying off, you did your full extended post-shower routine; eyes never straying far from the solitaire string.

While you tried to start to unpack, you couldn’t help but stare at the string. Should you just go and knock on their door? Before you could scheme any further, your stomach grumbled. It was already five and you hadn’t eaten since the last rest stop. Maybe going to grab something to eat wasn’t the worst idea ever. It’d get you out of your current impasse of staring at a wall. You picked a well-rated Thai restaurant around the corner, ordering way too much for a single person. The entire trip lasted about a half-hour, but it was a nice break. You got some fresh air and were able to stretch your legs as you took in the neighborhood. When you got back to the lobby, your other string started to darken quickly, like it was speeding towards you. You debated waiting for it or going back upstairs so that you could all be together. You opted for the latter and retreated back to your apartment. The string on your floor remained still, only starting to move as you closed your door.

Your heart began to hammer in your chest as you placed the food down on your kitchen counter. You were about to check in with Ben before a loud knock sounded off. Hesitantly, you approached the door, strings bright red, almost glowing. They formed a “V” shape as you wrapped your hand around the door handle.

This was it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read! I am in the last month of my semester, so I don't have an update schedule as of now. Will hopefully be more consistent after mid-May. Hope you're doing well whenever you are 💛

Chapter 2: here

#the pitt fanfiction #the pitt #pre canon #cross posted on ao3 #jack abbot x reader x michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot #michael robinavitch #jack abbot x michael robinavitch #slow burn #soulmate au #eventual smut #poly robby & jack #mxm #mxf #mxmxf #the crimson glow

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mutable-manifestation · 1 year ago

Text

Ghost Chirps AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

Around half past midnight, Jason is losing his patience.

They've been searching for hours and finding a whole lot of nothing, and statistics about the odds of finding kidnapping victims and the first 72 hours.

It's been almost 48 since he saw the kid and he's cursing himself for not doing more sooner.

Cameras are finding nothing, Signal is finding nothing, everyone is finding a whole lot of nothing.

And Jason...

Jason chirps.

He doesn't know if it'll help, but it's the only idea he's got. Even if it's a shallow chance. It's all he's got; he has to try.

And if Bruce decides that Jason being meta is the line? Then he'll cope.

He won't refuse to do something just because he's scared when his- when the kid's well being is on the line.

He won't be like Bruce, who'd let his killer walk free rather than do something about it because his feelings were somehow more important when Jason died.

He won't.

The first chirp yields nothing.

He does it again pushing to try and make it as loud as possible.

Again, nothing.

Again, he chirps, something in him certain that if he just keeps going it'll work. Somehow. But he's learned to trust his gut - or weird meta instincts?

And it works.

Because after the third chirp the kid chirps back.

Except.

The kid is not in Gotham.

He is very, very not in Gotham.

He chalks it up to his weird meta-bird instincts that he somehow just knows it came from somewhere hundreds of miles that-a-way.

Kidnapping is looking more likely given just how far the kid got, but now?

Now Jason has a way to find him.

He ignores Oracle asking about mask static in favor of hopping down from the balcony he'd paused on and heading back to the batbike - Bruce's paranoia meant it would have more than enough gas to take him as far as he needed to go and then some.

'And more than enough weapons to level a block, if needed,' he thinks viciously.

"Hood!" Oracle’s sharp voice shakes him from his thoughts.

"Found the kid," he shoots back, hoping to avoid the inevitable questioning.

Mixed exclamations of relief and confusion echoed over the radio.

"How!?" Nightwing cries. "I was literally right next to you! What did I miss!?"

"What are you, deaf?" he grumbles back irritably, uncomfortable. It'd be easier if they were, he thinks. Then he wouldn't have to explain.

"Does this have something to do with the static noise your helmet was producing previously? I had worried it was damaged," Oracle asks.

"Static?" Jason echoes, not slowing a bit - nearly to the bike.

"Oh yeah!" Nightwing says, as though she's making perfect sense.

'Ah,' he thinks, 'A shred of mercy in this vastly cruel existence.'

Aloud, he just says, "Yup. He's not in Gotham anymore, though, and I don't know how far he'll end up going or how long I'll be gone. Anyone who wants to come with can catch up, because I'm leaving now."

15 seconds later he's leaping onto the batbike and peeling out.

***

Jason doesn’t chirp again until he’s nearly to Illinois.

He wants to. He wants to chirp nonstop the moment he hears that first reply, wants to spend the whole hours-long drive listening to nothing but a litany of chirps that reassure him that his kid is alive alive alive.

He won’t risk it.

He doesn’t know where, exactly, the kid is. Doesn’t know if his family didn’t hear him because the chirps are only audible to him and the kid or if it was really due to a helmet malfunction covering for him.

But there is a chance that whoever has the kid can hear his chirps, so Jason won’t risk having him respond more than he absolutely has to in order to find him.

The next time, the kid answers back to the very first chirp, and Jason knows he’s heading in the right direction.

He gets turned around just once, overshooting and heaving to loop back, but he curses himself for it anyway - wasting precious time when the kid is going through who knows what.

Then he’s entering Amity Park: a nice place to live.

A nice place to die, for whoever it was that took his kid.

Several chirps later he’s in front of a school - of all things.

He doesn’t waste time doubting himself - kidnapping victims could be stashed anywhere - he storms in, batbike left idling at the base of the front steps.

Three chirps later he’s slamming through a door into a classroom. Full of kids. Taking a totally normal class - aside, of course, from Jason’s interruption.

One last exchange of chirps later and he finally lays eyes on his little shadow - who has the audacity to also look surprised, as if he wasn’t the one to lead him here in the first place.

Jason takes a moment to feel relieved, adrenaline beginning to crash before it revs back up with his indignation.

What happened to ‘goodbye!’ Who in their right mind would disappear from Gotham and not think that those left behind would assume they were kidnapped!? It’s Gotham!

Oh. Oh the child was in Gotham alone.

The child was in Gotham for a vacation.

Oh the child’s parents didn’t even realize he was gone? He’s worried about them putting him in an iron maiden!?

Jason’s eyes may be green, but oh, how his vision is red.

He barely hears the school’s alarm going off when he finally drives off-grounds, laser focused on following the road to the dot that’s popped up on his helmet just a few streets off, sending a curt thank-you to Oracle for saving him the effort of finding the kid’s address himself - she’s done him the courtesy of leaving everyone muted from his end, but he has little doubt they’ve all been listening to him. He’s only surprised she’s willing to condone the murder.

But then, of course she didn’t, he thinks as he pulls into a decently shadowed alley full of bats and birds. He’s torn between being touched that all of them came and being annoyed that he isn’t already in the process of murdering the kid’s parents.

“New Brother?” Orphan asks the moment the bike is off, head tilting in question from her dumpster-top perch.

A second, smaller sense of outrage bubbles up next to the first, and it is a testament to his impeccable self-control that his hand only twitches over his gun at the question.

Bruce - Batman - tries to say something, but before he can finish even just the first syllable Jason’s head is snapping around to glare hell at him, and a low, animalistic growl practically rips itself from his throat.

He can see the way everyone tenses - subtle to anyone else, but a glaring neon sign in Jason’s vision.

He curses himself for it; he asked them to be here. He specifically requested their help, and they gave it. The more of them there are involved, the faster they can help the kid into a safer environment.

But Jason came here to help the kid, not to offer him up as the next sacrifice in Batman’s long line of child soldiers.

“You wanna help? Great. Rule One: YOU,” he points at the bat for emphasis, “can’t adopt him.”

He chokes on whatever he was intending to say next at Orphan’s delighted clap and exclamation of “nephew!”

He wants to correct her, but… he doesn’t.

Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid; Jason knows that.

He knows it more than anyone, having spent his early years there and his most recent years trying to make it better. He knows that.

But h- the kid is a meta.

Looking at the facts: the kid is meta.

The kid is meta whose first concern with rule breaking is punishment via torture device.

The kid’s parents are neglectful enough that he spent over a week in Gotham and they never even noticed.

The kid went to Gotham to escape his home.

Whether his parents know that he is a meta or not, it is clear to Jason that the kid needs to be Out Of That House. Yesterday.

But he also knows just how metas are treated - even the MPA can only do so much against the tides of hatred and fear.

And he’s seen the maps - he knows this state is one of the worse ones for metas to live in, let alone a meta child at the mercy of a foster family that has even odds of neglecting him, being just as bad as his original family, or possibly actually caring about him.

Crime Alley is no place to raise a kid, and Red Hood is far from the right person for such a job.

But Crime Alley isn’t all that Gotham is, and perhaps Jason Todd could very easily decide to get an apartment in a nicer area.

He won’t lie to himself, he knows he isn’t parent material, but he’ll at least be a step up from what the kid is used to while he works to vet a real family to transfer him to.

He’s halfway through his mental checklist of the options for the safest place for an apartment and other such logistics when he’s reminded of where he is by Oracle’s voice in his ear.

“Hate to interrupt the group brooding you guys have going on over there, but I managed to dig up… a lot of information about the boy and his family situation.”

He notes how the others all perk up from where they’d been…staring at him.

Ah, that was why it was so quiet. They were staring in disbelief when he didn’t deny the nephew thing. Well. A conversation for another time.

“Lay it on me,” he says to Oracle, ignoring them.

“His name is Daniel James Fenton, goes by Danny, high grades throughout elementary and middle school until they took a steep drop at the beginning of highschool - likely related to whatever happened when his metagene activated.

Has one sibling, a sister named Jasmine Fenton - no middle name. She goes by Jazz. High grades across the board with no notable dips. No indication of possible metagene in any of her records or in Danny’s, beyond the grade drop and your own first-hand experience.

Parents Jack and Madeline “Maddie” Fenton. They have their own personal website where they describe themselves as “ectobiologists” and as ghost hunters. The pictures in their gallery show a vast array of weapons - dubbed “ectoweapons” - in the same chrome-green style with the name “Fenton” stamped somewhere on them. Some of the weapons are for sale on their site, advertised for defending oneself against ghosts. There are some pictures of what must be their lab, all of which look to include at least 12 different types of OSHA violation, and the image in their site’s “about” section has the whole family standing in the lab in front of what looks like a vertical Lazarus Pit.”

“What,” Batman says more than asks, voice tense.

“And judging by the staircase seen reflecting off of one of the guns in the picture, it seems that this lab is in their basement - I can’t see why it wouldn’t be, given they were fine with putting an enormous monstrosity of a satellite on top of their building.

There are plenty of cameras in the house itself, but for some reason all I can get from them is static. Any video or audio in the house that they don’t put on their site appears to be unusable for some reason.

All told, there is plenty of cause to get CPS involved. If their lab safety is even half as bad as it looks and it’s in their basement it’s pretty much a sure thing that the kids’ll be taken from them.

Given the small-towny nature of the area it’ll be best to contact someone from outside of the community for the case. It’ll move things along significantly if we have somewhere to send them.

They have an aunt, Alicia Walker, but she’s already marked down as a “no” for taking them in in the event something should happen to the Fentons.

This leaves their godfather: Vlad Masters. An incredibly reclusive billionaire, pursued the same Paranormal Science degree as the Fentons did when they were in college, but suffered an accident that put him in the hospital for two years with an unknown illness that Masters was allowed to name “ecto-acne.” Lost all contact with the Fentons until he invited them to a reunion party last fall and was named godfather three weeks later.

Masters got his wealth through a series of suspicious business deals. No one has been able to prove foul play yet, but just glancing over some of the early papers is already showing plenty of inconsistencies.

No other relatives - the Walker parents passed away some time ago, and while one of the Fentons remains, she’s in a nursing home. And also disowned Jack. And went out of her way to disown both Jazz and Danny as soon as she heard about them.”

“Great. Make Jason Todd a long lost cousin, set CPS on them. Red Hood is here because Danny ran away to Gotham and stuck his nose in crime alley so I tracked him down because I thought he was kidnapped in my territory, the Bats chased down Red Hood thinking he was gonna hurt the boy, CPS is there because your research turned up the potential unsafe living conditions and you overheard that the kid was gone for a week without anyone noticing - which scream neglect. Now we’re cooperating because we’re all annoyed at the parents that let their kid wander all the way to Gotham and convinced him that a torture device was a possible grounding option.”

He turns to Batman.

“You can claim to have done a DNA search to find the connection, and I’m sure you can find a reason to dismiss Masters as an option. Make sure to have them call Jason as soon as possible. Oracle-”

“Already routing incoming calls through Gotham. Also, both of Masters’ residences have inaccessible cameras similar to what I’m experiencing with the Fentons. He can be dismissed under suspicion of having an OSHA nightmare in his home. I’ll see if he has his own vertical Lazarus Pit while you all work on exfiltrating the niece and nephew.”Jason doesn’t dignify that with a response, hopping back on his bike to follow the new route - this time actually to the Fenton household.

#dpxdc #ghost chirps AU

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syluriar · 5 months ago

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please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 2

sypnosis: the aftermath of caleb catching you on the phone to escape him.

part 1

a/n: part 2 is finally here!! i apologise that this took me awhile, i just wanted this chapter to be right and i feel good about it now. there will be a part 3 to this, not sure about part 4 but we'll see how this goes.

warnings: some angst but with comfort. caleb being possessive and genually confused why you want to leave. mc (you) finally letting your fustrations out. sylus appears. caleb gets punched :) not for caleb girlies (sorry!)

word count: 3091 (insert spongebob exhausted meme)

taglist: @eternityjune @swissschees3 @notomyrr @jilly-xox7 @mizunareader @monticarlo @leiakitty @wiiieeeeeee @lynnaredfield3383 @idrkgurr @cms399 @ladycrown109 @capribun @crimsonlittlecrow @bi-goth-energy @rik0shii @letharue @sylusjinxedpaw @mcdepressed290 @kaeyasfuturewife @magicatemyvanishingdreams @deethedolly @beautifulthingsiadore @katykibbs @futuristicdefendorfart @qinluna @lemonn015 @magpie-the-goblin-girl @beewilko @thechaoticarchivist @aikonecrosis @gianchan-de @gamergirl31201 i think that's everyone? i apologise if i forget to tag you, there was a lot of people who wanted to be tagged which makes me fell so happy - thank u!!

When was the last time you ever felt this scared?

Perhaps your first time facing a real Wanderer? That time you had a creep not taking no for an answer when you were alone in a nightclub? Or maybe that time where you were walking alone and came across a thief with a weapon?

But you had overcome them. The Wanderer died by your pistols, the creep getting punched in the face by your fists and thrown out by security, and the thief getting it’s weapon knocked out of it’s hand by you and arrested by the police moments later.

The adrenaline that had rushed through you pushed it all away within those moments, and it was only after you had reflected on the experience that almost had you buckle your knees and grab the nearest thing to keep you standing, your heart bounding and your thoughts and absolute mess. It had taken you a while to calm down and look back on those moments without fear, and instead of what you had accomplished.

Unlike right now.

“Still not talking?”

You hadn’t spoken a word to Caleb after he caught you ending the call with Sylus, begging him to come and save you from the man you once felt safe and secure with.

The tracker on your wrist reminds you of anything but those feelings and more.

Caleb sighs from his seated position in the kitchen and stands, the sound of his footsteps getting closer to you fills you with dread. He seats himself on the edge of the coffee table in front of you and you instantly move back so his feet don’t touch you, your eyes finding a spot on the floor to stare at.

He chuckles. “You won't even look at me, how mean of you.”

Retorts sit on your tongue that you hold still. Your already deep in trouble, you don’t want to know what will happen if you fall more.

By the corner of your eyes you see him angle his head to try and catch your eyes, but you look away quickly. What would you see in them? Pity? Annoyance? Anger? Even if it was soft, you wouldn’t fall for it, your not that naive anymore.

You gasp as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, his told had a certain tightness to it that could choke you in seconds - you wouldn’t put it past him to do it, though it still scares you to know that.

“There we go.” He smiles, and everything about it screams it’s not the one from the past, the warm one you remember. “Now all that's left is for you to talk, but since you won’t do that, I guess I have to play a little guessing game.”

It doesn’t matter, you think. He can guess all he likes and you won’t answer him. Let’s see how he likes to be the one ignored now.

“Now who would you be calling at this hour when everyone is asleep, like you should have been.” There’s a mocking tone in his voice that makes you want to punch him. It should have made you worried about doing such a thing to someone you saw as a friend, but all you saw in front of you was a creature that enjoyed your torture.

“It can’t be your dear Dr. Zayne, he’s too busy and has things far too important then calling you.”

It hurt you a little to hear Caleb talking about Zayne like that, the three of you had a good friendship growing up, it had amused you of the little arguments they would get into. You knew that no matter what happened you would always have them to fall back on and pick you back up. Zayne had greatly helped you ever since you thought Caleb had died, and the thought of the three of you being back together made your heart warm when you found Caleb again.

How unfortunate that wouldn’t happen.

“Someone the Hunters Association? Hmmm possibly. But who exactly?” Caleb tapped his chin with his other hand, your chin still firmly held by his other that it was starting to ache. “No one there can come in here and sneak you out without anyone onboard knowing, even if a team banded together. So let’s rule that out.”

He clearly underestimated your Association. You might not know everyone there, but the only reason those people have been made Hunters is because they have the power to do so, they’ve all been through the hard training it takes and passed. You remember all the training you had to do and your sure Caleb does too, as you had called him after sessions, complaining about it all and the aches and bruises on your body.

“You keep complaining about it but I never hear you say that you’re gonna leave.”

“Of course I'm not! Quitting would mean that I’m not cut out to be a Hunte. You’ve said I am so many times, do you not think it anymore?”

“Not at all. I believe in you more than anyone that you’ll pass, and become the world's greatest Hunter.”

“Ok, not that much Caleb.”

He laughed then, full of warmth and joy. “Just keep going Pip-squeak, and before you know it, you’ve passed and got your license. Just don’t forget about me when you're off saving everyone from Wanderers, ok?”

Does he still believe in you now? Do you even want to know? You’re still surprised he hasn’t told you to leave them and just stay with him.

“I guess that only leaves one other place.” He muses, and you feel like he’s close to the answer.

Just don’t react. Don’t let him know.

“But would you really call someone from there? And who? There’s not many good people in the N109 Zone.”

Your face remains neutral as Caleb scans it for any signs and frowns when there isn’t any. You hide your pride at this, though it probably thanks to him that your learning to mask your emotions well.

“Actually, scratch that, there’s no good people in that place. Illegal dealings and filled with violence and crime, there no better than Wanderers. Infact, I bet they’re worse than Wanderers. At least those creatures were someone innocent before turning, people in the N109 Zone have been black-hearted since the start. Like true monsters.”

You swing your cuffed wrists to smack him but they’re quickly caught in his free hand, a smirk now dancing on his lips.

“Oh, it seems like I hit a spot. So your trip to the N109 Zone did have you in contact with someone there.” He pulls you forward by your wrists, noses just barely touching. His voice was laced with demand. “Who?”

A grunt falls from your lips as you try and pull your wrists back, but Caleb’s hold on them is strong.

It tightens.

“Who?”

You stop and look at him, his eyes so dim you wonder if they’ve truly turned black. You can see anything in them other than dark feelings that create goosebumps on your skin.

You swallow, a bit of courage coming to your throat. “I guess that’s round two of your guessing game.”

A thick silence hangs in the air and your ears pick up noises you don’t remember registering. The ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound of cars driving outside and the pitter patter of rain softly hitting the windows. Mixed with Caleb before you, it was starting to become stimulating, and you pray that Sylus will be here soon.

Caleb’s frown deepens. “Why do you want to go to him, hmm? Skyhaven is much more safer and secure then the N109 Zone.”

“I have never feared more for my life than staying here.” You reply. To hell with staying silent, that’s what you’ve done more than anything since you’ve been here. You let Caleb have his way, let him ramble on and on and speak badly about a place - about a man you wanted to go back to more than anything.

You’re done with it.

“What can he possibly give you that I can’t?” He’s not glaring but close, he’s looking at you as if he just can’t phantom the idea of you wanting to leave. “How can you want to go to him when I’m right here?”

“Because he would never treat me this way!” You scream, and the look of shock on his face makes you keep going. “He’s never locked me in and he lets me have my freedom with no complaints or bargains. He never punishes me and never makes me feel afraid of him. He’s someone who treats me like I’m someone, not a possession. He's someone I can trust and go to without fear.” Your breathing heavily, the words keep coming out and your not stopping them, too fed up with the man infront of you. “He’s the opposite of you Caleb, and as soon as he comes here I’m going with him, and you can’t stop me.”

You didn’t realise you had stood up until you saw Caleb’s eye move to look up at you, for once you had gotten power over him, had made him look at you and made him speechless.

Adrenaline runs through your body and you know you can’t let it go, no matter what happens next.

So when the look of shock vanishes over Caleb’s face and is replaced with a glare, you lock in and quickly pull your still bound wrists free from his hold, keeping them close to your chest. When he stands you step away instantly, creating space between the two of you.

“And what makes you think I’ll let you leave?” His voice drips with venom. It’s a tone you’ve never heard before and almost falters you.

“Because she’s her own person.” a voice breaks out, one that’s so familiar that it makes your heart race. “Because she has the right to her own freedom.”

Both of you turn to the door that’s now locked behind a tall and imposing figure, his white hair gleaming in the ceiling lights.

“Because she wants to.”

He steps forward and the light shines on his face, that handsome face of your saviour. “Oh, and because I’m here to help her, isn’t that right, sweetie?” His gleaming red eyes fall on you, and you smile, hope filling you.

“Sylus…”

Caleb sucks through his teeth, irritation clear all over his face. “How did you get in unnoticed? Every member had been alerted that you would be coming.”

Sylus shrugs nonchalantly, confidence oozing off him. “And despite that I didn’t get much of a welcome party. Your fleet needs more training.”

The comment only makes Caleb’s irritation grow, and it brings some satisfaction to you. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m taking Miss Hunter home.”

Home. The word makes your heart swell.

“She’s not going anywhere, especially not with you.” Caleb straightens and you feel his Evol approaching, it causes goosebumps on your skin once again and you instantly look at Sylus, who just looks bored.

“Seems like you need hearing lessons as well.” His own Evol floating around his fists, ready to release.

You knew there was going to be a fight once Sylus showed up, he would avoid it if he could if that’s what you wanted, but Caleb wouldn’t let you go without a fight. Even if Caleb hadn’t caught you and you managed to sneak past him with Sylus, he would only come and get you himself and cause a ruckus wherever you went to get you back. He would see it as you being kidnapped and brainwashed to turn against him.

Caleb needs to know that you want to leave on your own free will, and not just with words. The fact that you called for help should have already planted that seed somewhere in his head.

“Stop it Caleb. Let me go.”

He turns to you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

You stand straight, your voice calm as you speak. “I want to leave, right here, right now. So let me go.”

He stares at you, teeth gritted and brows furrowed, but his eyes are scanning you, hoping to find something he can use to make you stay, to blind himself that this isn’t your free choice of will. But he can’t find any, and his irritation and confusion grows. “Why? Why do you want to leave me? I thought after everything we’ve been through, you’d want to stay with me forever.”

And you had wanted that too.

“I had never felt such relief when I found Caleb alive.” You tell him with a soft voice, the painful memories all coming back. “I spent night’s crying because I thought you were dead, days went past in a blur and I was always reminded to eat even the smallest thing because my mind wouldn’t register the simplest things that my body needed. All I could think about was you.”

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes but you didn’t care to wipe them away, with showing Caleb your true emotions, you hope that he’ll finally understand. “Time passed and it got a little easier, but I still thought about you. I didn’t even think I would meet you here…and yet I did. I was so happy Caleb, I thought things would go back the way they were before. Always laughing and joking around, having you by my side to comfort me and give me strength…but you’ve done the exact opposite.”

Confidence flows through your veins as you take a step towards him, his figure still but has lost it’s tension. Your getting through to him. “The things I said before, about me being afraid of you, it’s all true. You keep me locked up and take away my things. You don’t let me have my freedom and even tell me when to go to sleep like I’m a child. It honestly scares me that you can’t see that your hurting me, hurting me so much that I want to escape from you.”

“I didn’t…” His aura falters, the dark and imposing man has been replaced with disbelief and confusion. “I never want you to be afraid of me, I didn’t do all those things to scare you. I want to protect you.”

“Was giving me medicine with the intention of me falling asleep protecting me?” You spat back, the memory of it still causing a shiver of unease down your spine. “I’m a Hunter Caleb, I don’t need this kind of protection. You said that you believed in me when I was doing my exams, but it looks like I’m weak to you.”

“You’re not! That’s…That’s not what I think!”

“I don’t care what you think anymore Caleb, except for the fact that I want to leave SkyHaven and I want to leave you of my own free will. That’s my choice Caleb.”

A noise leaves Caleb’s lips, something frustrated and perhaps sad. You don’t fully understand it but right now you don’t care. You take another step towards him, close enough to touch his chest if you reach out.

You show him your bound wrists. “Take these off…please.”

He looks down at them, thousands of emotions dance through his eyes that you can’t decipher, but he waves a hand over them and you hear a click before the cuffs fall on the floor.

“Thank you Caleb…and I’m sorry.”

Before he can even respond you punch him square in the face, his body falling to the ground instantly, knocked out.

Whoops.

The slow clapping of hands erases the tense atmosphere from the room.

“An excellent performance, kitten.” Sylus smirks as he walks over. “You had him in your grasp and took matters into your own hands, just like I knew you could.”

There was something about his praise that brightens you, maybe it’s because you know he’s saying it sincerely that has your stomach filled with butterflies. You fight back the smile that threatens your lips. “I didn’t mean to knock him out..”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, sweetie. You still wanted to punch him, not that I blame you.” His eyes scan over the unconscious body of your ex best friend, frowning at the sight. “I wanted to get some in.”

“You would have killed him then.” You commented, and despite everything Caleb has put you through, you didn’t want him dead - for real this time. “I don’t think the fleet would be too happy about that.”

“I don’t mind making a few more enemies, especially the ones that hurt you.”

Air catches in your throat as Sylus turns back at you, his eyes looking at you softly. “Are you alright?”

Maybe it was because it was said so gently, full of comfort and genuineness, laced with true worry. that has you tearing up once more. “I want to go home Sylus.”

He gathers you in his arms, holding you close to his chest that you feel his warmth that engulfs you, bringing a sense of calm to your body. “It’s ok. I’m here, and I’m taking you home.” He lifts you in his arms that you don’t protest, you don’t ever want to leave his safe arms ever again. “Luke and Kieran have cleaned your apartment ready for you to come back.”

“No Sylus,” You croak against his neck, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. Apart from Skyhaven your apartment is the last place you want to be right now, there’s no sense of security that will calm you if you return back there.

There’s only one place you want to be.

That mansion that started out cold that is now warm with your touches; the plushies on the sofa and the blankets on the bed. The fairy lights in his study and the colourful mugs in his kitchen, your skincare and make-up products sitting neatly in his bathroom cabinet and the photobooth pictures hanging by the vanity he had bought you.

“Take us home.”

He looks at you then, surprise written across his face that it almost makes you giggle. You never really called it home to his face, even with your things scattered across the building.

Sylus smiles, it’s not the one his enemies see or the ones the twins get when they’ve pulled a prank. It’s a smile only reserved for you, and it shines brighter than any star you have ever seen.

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

#mine #my writing #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #caleb

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byunpum · 2 years ago

Text

Tsa·zìskrrmipaw

Pair: Neytiri x Y/N human baby x Sully family

Warning: Mention of dead, soft moments, mama neytiri <3

Request: (Anon) I love how you describe neytiri being our mother. Can I asked if you could react or make a small oneshot about how neytiri would adopt us.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 2

Neytiri learned of your existence when your mother gave birth 1 year after neteyam's birth. It was big news in the clan. Mo'at attended the entire birth, as norm could not do anything else. Your mother had complications with the delivery, and she was losing a lot of blood. And the baby could not come out. After a labor of more than 5 hours, the woman died leaving mo'at with no choice but to deliver the baby on her own, asking eywa to keep the newborn alive. Norm was at her side, helping her, ready to provide oxygen to the newborn as soon as it came out of the woman's womb. To his surprise, just as mo'at pulled you out and the woman wiped the baby's nose with her hand and tapped the baby's back to make it respond. All this happened very fast, norm hear how the baby takes a breath and starts to cry. As if she could breathe air easily. Mo'at looks curiously at the man, placing the baby on her chest trying to pacify the baby.

After about 5 minutes and norm monitoring the baby, he notices how the lack of air began in the newborn. Putting on a special oxygen mask that your mother had prepared for you, he watched you breathe. Norm wanted to check something in his head, he thought it couldn't be true, but he wasn't wrong. After 10 minutes of letting you breathe human oxygen, he removed the mask and saw how the newborn kept looking to the sides, very calm. This child had the respiratory system of the na'vi. He almost fainted, how could this be possible.

Norm took it upon himself to investigate, and what a surprise he got. Your mother was a doctor, she had been one of those responsible for the creation of the DNA of the avatars. She had been injecting herself with a modified DNA for months, just so her baby could breathe the air of Pandora. Of course, this was very irresponsible of her, and Norm understood why she was hiding this experiment. He would never have allowed a baby to be experimented on like that. But well…it was too late. This was a surprise to everyone, the first human who could breathe in Pandora. Max and Norm discovered that this was only possible for fetuses, and not all of them. Only those that could survive the treatment, for your release your DNA withstood all the changes. And lucky for you…Mo'at wanted to take care of you, not as your mother but as your guardian. She felt a kind of responsibility, your mother was a very good person to her, and she had trusted her with everything. So she would take care of her daughter. And that's when neytiri met you.

She had given birth to lo'ak 5 months ago, and finding out that there was another newborn baby was very interesting to her. Her mother never told her that the baby was a human, neytiri thought it was another na'vi woman who had given birth and could not survive. And about the human who gave birth, well…she lamented the event but didn't think much of it. She could hear Jake lamenting, and everyone else but it wasn't her problem. She was on her way to her mother's hut, Mo'at had called her to ask her for a favor and to meet the new baby. Neytiri entered very excited, seeing how her mother was sitting there cradling something on her chest.

"Mother…did you call me?" speaks Neytiri. Mo'at settles herself more so that she is now seated in front of her daughter. "Yes, I want to ask you a favor" neytiti nods her head, now sitting up. As she settled lo'ak more on her chest.

"I think you already know about the human-woman who gave birth and died, right?" moat asks.

"Yes…it's very sad news" says neytiri, she doesn't want to imagine that scene. Now she was a mother and she can't imagine how hard it must be for a baby to be alone without its mother.

" Now that you know…I need you to take care of this baby" mo'at pulls out a human baby from her chest, of course she wouldn't have seen it, it was very small compared to her baby. Holding the newborn baby with only one hand, so that her daughter could see it. Before neytiri could speak, mo'at begins;

"She…her mother did not stand the birth, she is a very special baby neytiri…she can breathe our air, she can have a good life. Since you and your partner have adopted kiri, and jake is part of the humans. I think it would be the right thing to do, to help this baby grow up. Besides, you are the only woman who has just given birth, this baby needs to be fed with mother's milk," speaks Mo'at.

Leaving neytiri speechless, she more than anyone else knew that she did not like humans that much. And now she was asking him to take care of one of them. She adopted kiri, because the baby was a na'vi. And she accepted jake, because he had his na'vi body. But now that she would take care of a human child? His mother was going crazy. "Mom…I can't do that, get someone else to do it?" speaks neytiri in protest. Mo'at shakes her head, her mother looked calm. Placing the baby now, in a kind of nest she had prepared. This one was in front of her, in front of her feet.

"Daughter I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't necessary, this baby can't be raised by humans. She needs to breathe oxygen from these masks from time to time" mo'at held for a moment the mask norm had left for the baby. "But it's not just that…this baby's feeding is also from a na'vi. Norm already tried to feed her food that is used for human babies and she threw it up. She won't accept it, I thought you might be able to help. It's just feeding and basic care. You don't have to take care of her or adopt her." Mo'at speaks.

Neytiri was still looking at the baby with curiosity, she could have a lot of anger with humans. But she was not a monster, she was not a savage. What she was seeing there was a helpless creature, which she could tell was a little weak. Neytiri touches one of the baby's feet a little, seeing if it had any movement. "I'm afraid it will die if it doesn't feed well in the next few hours" says mo'at. Neytiri sighs, and thinks for a moment. Feeding a baby is not a bad thing, indeed it is very common in the clan. Helping and feeding the children in the clan was something that the women of the omaticaya clan helped each other with. So she would do it as a way to support her mother.

"It's okay," neytiri says, moving lo'ak a little to the side of her chest. Taking the human baby in her hands, carrying it carefully on her breast. It was very delicate and small. It weighed almost nothing, she was afraid that if it moved too much it would hurt the newborn. Neytiri moves the ornaments covering her breasts a little, bringing the creature close. Carefully positioning and guiding the baby. Noticing how the baby opens its mouth desperately trying to seek a maternal touch. After a few seconds, Neytiri watched as the baby began to suck with ease.

Neytiri settles in more, and places the baby on her forearm. She watched as the baby sucked the milk with great enthusiasm. She felt sorry, and an anguish filled her heart. She was such a small and helpless baby. Neytiri noticed how now lo'ak had gotten up, but did not begin to fuss or anything. He just started to move his little hands, until he found the human baby's foot that was right next to him. He touched it carefully and curiously, closing his hand. "Hey careful…be gentle" says neytiri in a low voice, trying not to wake the baby and not to upset her son.

After feeding the baby, neytiri continued to hold the baby to her breast. The baby had fallen asleep, and she looked more peaceful. She had finally eaten since she was born.

"Daughter…if you don't want to do it I understand…but I trust you and " mo'at is interrupted by neytiri. "Mother…it's okay, I will take care of her. After all she is a baby and she needs our help" says neytiri, stroking the baby's tiny head.

"Ok…Neteyam come here!!!" shouts jake, watching as his one year old son ran as fast as he could around the edge of the family hut. Kiri was next to him, playing with some toys. Jake watched as his partner entered the hut. Neytiri had her eyes on her chest, cooing at something. Jake thought it was lo'ak, but noticed how Neytiri had another net over her chest, and was holding something else. Jake gets up from the ground, and walks over to her.

"And what do you bring there?" asks jake. Watching as neytiri giggles softly, moving the net a bit revealing the face of a human baby. "That's it… it's newborn" jake quickly approaches taking the baby in his hands. It was instinctive, they already had their own children and seeing another baby was very common for them, they acted on their instincts. Cradling the baby in their arms. "This is that woman's baby, huh?" asks jake. Hearing how neytiri answers him with a "hmm". There was a small silence, until neytiri explained everything to jake. The man was a little surprised by his mate's attitude, she didn't usually act like that. Neytiri wouldn't even go near spider, and now she was taking care of a baby girl. A human baby.

"She needs to be fed and cared for…mom told me she needs this to breathe sometimes" says neytiri, holding up an oxygen box which had a small oxygen mask. "Well…there's nothing we can do" says jake, laughing a little. Neytiri moves closer to jake and gets closer to smell a little bit of the baby's hair. "She's very precious and special" says neytiri.

"yes….is very special" says jake. Until jake feels someone touch his feet. It was kiri and neteyam who wanted to be carried, they wanted to see how much their parents were doing. Jake kneels down, showing the baby to his sons. "She's a baby…just like your brother" jake speaks softly. A little neteyam reaches over and gently touches the baby's nose, to start laughing. He thought the baby was funny, and kiri does the same. The children were amazed at the baby their father was holding in his arms.

Neytiri didn't know what she was getting into, but she knew she was going to do her assignment very well. She herself began to doubt, the more Y/N grew up, because it was more than obvious that this baby was going to stay with them, after taking care of you for 6 months Neytiri told her mother that she would adopt you as her daughter. This news filled mo'at with joy. She knew she had chosen well, and that her daughter would do a great job. But now neytiri was doubting herself.

The mothers could be a little rude if they wanted to, it had been five years since Y/N had come into their family. And the Sully's had raised the girl as one of their children. There was no preference, no special care. You were a na'vi in the eyes of her family, but to some members of the clan you were still a strange human who shouldn't be in the village. It was more than evident that you were a human, but what human wore no mask at all?. Except you, and this bothered neytiri a lot. She was always hearing how some mothers commented on your appearance and made ignorant comments. Making fun of her for thinking she was the mother of this strange creature. This did not stop Neytiri, even though it hurt her, she went ahead with your raising. But it was normal for her to doubt her parenting and whether it was right for her to take care of you.

Neytiri had gone for a walk with all her children, sitting in a nice meadow. Watching her children run and play. Neteyam, kiri were running around. While lo'ak was lying with his head lying in her lap, while taking a nap. And Y/N she was beside her playing with a wooden ikran, making it fly. As she stood calmly by her side. Neytiri She hadn't been so calm in a while, taking out her bow that hung from her back. She used to carry it, in case there was something dangerous. She began to fix some details, like the loose string. Taking her knife to sharpen one of her arrows.

Neytiri was so focused, she didn't notice that Y/N had gotten up from the floor. You were small, so you didn't make much noise. You look for some branches, a rock, and some ropes from the trees that were on the ground. Running now to sit next to your mother. Neytiri notices how you sit down again, and is surprised to see how you have all these things between your legs. Trying to put them together, and imitating Neytiri. Copying how she was sharpening her arrows. "Honey…look it's like this" says neytiri, following your game. Giving you a stone that was next to you, for you to play with.

You were next to her, copying what she was doing. What was she worrying about, she felt a little silly. Here was the child she doubted she was raising right, imitating her. She chuckled to herself, stroking her daughter's face a little, pulling up the oxygen mask around her neck over her daughter's nose so she could breathe a little. Watching as the little girl continued her work of creating a bow. She knew that life at your side was going to be difficult, but it was going to be worth it. She knew that.

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redflagshipwriter · 1 year ago

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Hot Ghouls in your area ch 5 part 1 of 2

Masterpost

Jason found himself back in the real world (the human world?) in fuckin Star City. Christ. Luckily, his electronics came on line. They weren’t fried, then. He looked up the nearest zeta tube and booked it over there, not eager to get caught in another hero’s city. The worst part would be that Batman would inevitably smooth it out on his behalf and go growl at Queen for having the audacity to try to arrest him. Jason did not need to get bailed out by his asshole Dad, thanks.

He wasn’t worried about Green Arrow and his crew per se, but it would be a shitstorm he didn’t need even if he managed to get out.

Not when he was so laden down with books that he had unfolded both dufflebags stored in his suit, for fuckin sure. Sure, they’d make phenomenal weapons if he swung ‘em around, but the books deserved better than that.

His comm forced itself on as soon as he came through to Gotham.

“You’re back!” Barbie said, breathless. “You’re alive? Right?”

Jason snorted. The street he stepped onto wasn’t fully dark yet. Patrol probably hadn’t started. “I’m alive,” he confirmed. “How long was I gone?”

“About ten hours,” she said.

Oh. Jason pursed his lips. It wasn’t dusk, it was dawn. “Tonight must have been fun,” he said lightly.

She laughed darkly. “You’re about to find out how fun it was.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, no-”

Oracle opened up a line to what was probably every vigilante in Gotham city. “Hood is back and safe,” she announced, gleeful about throwing him to the wolves. “He’s on 2nd and Grim, for anyone who wants to drop by and tell him how much they missed him.”

Jason cursed a blue streak and started off at a dead sprint as he reached for his grappling hook. It was a lot slower than usual since he was swinging two enormous bags of books. …Could he even grapple with these? Goddamn. He’d be over the weight limit. He cursed even harder and put the hook back.

“Heading west,” Oracle said cheerfully, and then clicked off a bare instant before he manually mashed the damn power button on his setup. Nope, nope, nope, he was not dealing with this shit tonight.

He made it about four blocks and was so goddamn close to a safehouse (one of Bruce’s, but he could put it on lockdown) when a wailing blue and black blur emerged from the skies.

“We thought you died,” Nightwing warbled at him. Jesus fucking christ, he had been crying. His face was wet. Jason tried to duck away but he was too laden. He struggled against the hold for a few futile seconds before he went limp.

Dick sniffled into his chest.

“Shut up,” Jason said, shoulders nearly up to his ears. He didn’t need to hear any criticism of how he had handled that cult situation, or any grieving about how this had made people think of the time he got brutally beaten to death.

“I’m not saying anything,” Dick mumbled. He gave one more squeeze before withdrawing. “Huge relief to see you in the-what do you have there?” He dove down into the bags of books before Jason could kick him away. He was already prying the bag open by the time he asked. Jason tried to pull it away but it was impossible to keep Dick’s grabby hands out of your business.

“He went to a library,” Nightwing announced to the comms, outraged. “We thought he was dead and he went to a library!”

Someone laughed loudly on the comms. The brat turned on his comms explicitly to scoff.

“Did you rob a library?” Dick’s voice went high. “There’s so much here!” He flipped things around. “There- these are the same book? Hood, why do you have so many copies of the same book?”

“They’re not the same,” Jason snapped. “Get your grubby hands off of them!” He took his things back and edged away, glowering at his dumb asshole brother. “If you came to gawk, you did it, so now fuck off. You can clearly see that I am fine.”

“Jason,” Batman rasped, like the goddamn creep he was. Jason spun to see that he’d come up from behind. He lurched closer. He looked like hell. His knuckles were bloody and his pulse was jumping in his throat.

“No names in masks,” Jason snapped. He put his hands up to keep Bruce at a distance. “That’s your own rule, old man!”

It was no use. He endured the bullshit while his dumbass Dad made sure he wasn’t dead again, but he drew the line at letting Bruce clutch him and probably sob under his sweaty cowl like a weirdo.

“I should have stayed there,” Jason grumbled. He patted at Bruce’s back. “There, there, asshole. You’re fine.”

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main #dc fanfic

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago

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Overprotective Bat (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Azriel has to apologise for being mean. He hates it.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: i got nothin to say except 🥹🥹🥹

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Azriel clutched the tiny hand of his daughter in his, wishing more than ever that he could melt into the ground.

He was more than ready to just vanish into thin air, but the glaring eyes that burned the back of his neck made it impossible to even move his little finger.

The front door of the small, cozy home opened, a head peeking out. The female's eyes widened, taking in the menacing form of the shadowsinger.

"Y-yes? How can I help you?"

"I..." Azriel glanced back at his wife for help, pleading silently. She simply shrugged. With a sigh, Azriel turned back to the female in the doorway, wondering what to say when Hazel spoke up.

"Hello! I am Kaden's friend, Hazel! I made him some cookies!"

The female smiled at Hazel, opening the door wide. "So you are Hazel huh. Kaden's told me all about you sweetheart. I'm Penelope, you can call me Penny. Kaden is playing in his room, why don't you come in?"

Hazel nodded happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet before she followed the female in. Y/n entered after, throwing a warning glance at Azriel.

"Oh for fuck's sake.." Azriel mumbled under his breath, wondering if he could run away now that Y/n was not watching.

One glance at Y/n's retreating form told Azriel he was not going to be saved today.

With a sigh, he tucked in his wings and squeezed himself through the small door, walking in and settling in next to Y/n on the couch Penelope had gestured to before vanishing up the stairs to inform her son of their arrival.

Hazel grinned up at her father, excited to reunite with her friend, unknowing that he was the reason Kaden had stopped talking to her.

Soft steps ran down the stairs, and a moment later, the blonde head of the little boy appeared in the doorway, a huge smile on his face.

"Hazel!" He squealed, taking a step towards her before he paused, his eyes going wide when he realised that the broody spymaster was again staring at him.

His lower lip quivered, and he took a step back and hid his face in his mother's skirt. She looked up at Azriel and Y/n in confusion, her brows knitted.

"I'm sorry, he isn't this shy usually." The female tried to tug on the boy's shoulder, trying to make him look at her to no avail. "Kaden, what is it my boy?"

He sniffled, shaking his head, and Y/n nudged Azriel's side.

Azriel glanced at his daughter, who was twisting her hands nervously in her lap before blowing out a tight breath through his nose and opening his mouth.

"Kaden? Hazel made you some cookies. Here, try them." Azriel grabbed the box of sweets from his shadows, opening the lid and showing it to the boy who was peeking at him.

Kaden stared at the cookies, his sniffles quieting. He glanced up at Azriel, the Y/n and his mother, both who gave him encouraging nods. He slowly made his way over to Azriel, timidly reaching out for the box.

He pulled a cookie out, glancing at Azriel. The spymaster, feeling guilty, offered small smile to the boy, who immediately relaxed.

"Thank you." He turned to hazel, his previous tears forgotten as he mumbled something about toys and games.

Hazel went to grab Kaden's hand, and then the both of them ran away and up to his room.

Azriel glanced at Y/n from the corner of his eyes, who was all smiles as she followed Penelope into the kitchen.

Azriel leaned back into the couch, wondering how he, a spymaster, had to apologise to a little boy.

And he felt absolutely pathetic for being upset over something so trivial.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

She had been talking to Penelope for over two hours before Azriel declared he was tired, having become fast friends and bonding over their love for baking and cooking. Y/n was pleasantly surprised to find out that Penelope was a chef at one of the restaurants next to the Sidra.

When Y/n had told Penelope the real reason for their visit, Penelope had nearly died laughing.

"So let me get this straight," Penny huffed between bouts of laughter, "You somehow got your husband, the spymaster of the court, to come apologise to a little boy?"

Y/n grinned. "Yes."

Penny giggled again. "Oh I can't wait for Berald to find out that his son created such chaos."

Hazel was currently snoozing on her father's shoulder as he and Y/n walked home, promising a sleepy Kaden that Hazel would come to play again soon enough, much to Azriel's displeasure.

"Azzie?" Y/n mumbled as the two of them entered their home, his silence becoming unbearable.

"Hmm?"

Azriel glanced at Y/n for a moment, then turned back to his daughter as he gently set her sleeping form on the couch.

"Kaden is a child, you know that right?"

He sighed, his hand brushing over Hazel's forehead. "I do."

"You also know that he can't hurt Hazel?"

He sighed again, frustrated. "You can't blame me for trying to keep her safe." He mumbled, his voice small.

Y/n's shoulders slumped in understanding, and after a moment of staring at her husband and daughter, she walked over to the two people that were her world and settled down next to Azriel where he kneeled on the ground, his eyes soft and worried as he stared at his princess. "Azriel, no one can hurt Hazel as long as you live. I'm sure of it."

Az's eyes did not budge from where they rested on Hazel's sweet little face, but Y/n watched as they hardened.

"You're right. No one will ever hurt my princess while I'm alive. So no more boys-"

"Oh for fucks sake Azriel-"

"You said I would keep her safe!-"

"You can't stop her from interacting with every human being-"

"But-"

"Shut up!" Azriel pouted, wrapping his arms across his chest, the action reminding Y/n of Hazel. "Shut up. You can't isolate her Azriel, it will not be good for her mind and growth. You understand me?"

Azriel grumbled but stayed quiet as Y/n climbed to her feet, glaring at him until he nodded. Then, after a moment of staring him down until he started squirming, Y/n pulled him in for a hug, hoping that his worries wouldn't hurt Hazel.

Because if they did, she knew Azriel would not be able to live with himself.

He had too many insecurities as it was, he didn't need more.

•○🌑○•

Sometime in the future.

Y/n knew Azriel would get emotional, and she had bet with Nesta that he would cry.

And she was so very happy for that as she had just won. The look on Nesta's face was as priceless as the trip to the bookstore Nesta had promised her.

But right now, Y/n had no time to jump around happily, so she hastily turned back to the altar, where stood Hazel in a white wedding dress and Kaden in a dark blue suit, staring at each other with tears streaming down their faces as the priestess read the vows to bind them together.

"I knew he was trouble the moment I saw him." Azriel mumbled quietly, though the quiet joy shining in his eyes and emanating from his side was at odds with the statement.

"You know he would never hurt Hazel, right?"

He laughed quietly. "You can' blame me for trying to keep her safe."

Y/n smiled knowing he too was thinking of their conversation fifty years ago. "Yeah well, now you can stop. She now has Kaden, who will die to keep her safe and happy. Nothing you need to worry about now, old male."

The small smile on Azriel's face didn't waver as he whispered. "I'm not old, you hag."

Y/n rolled her eyes, turning back to the altar, where Kaden now leaned in to kiss Hazel. "Sure. It's not like I hear your joints cracking whenever you move."

Y/n had never seen him this happy ever before, knowing his little girl was happy.

Azriel reached out to hold her hand as the two of them watched their daughter, as they realised she was now all grown up.

•○🌑○•

General ACOTAR Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3

@candyjaypoppins @cherryjain17 (Tagging yall because you wanted part 2 😉)

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oonajaeadira · 3 months ago

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where you been, adira?

Yes, I've been on here at least once a day just to scroll and take a few breaths, because it's... been a time.

I AM JOEL MILLER I'm currently working on a show that opens tonight. Hence the little extra breathing time this afternoong. (Normally I'm at the theater 4 hours a night, but the show is only 75 minutes, so I get a little more time to myself from here on out.) The SO and I are both in it though (it's his company), so it's nice to spend time with him on a project we both love.

It's a devised, modern retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, but set in 50s/60s Appalachia. There are no sets or props, we make everything with our bodies, including the 4-part harmony shape note singing and a few mountain folk songs I have to carry. It's a lot of physical work, but it's a beautiful show.

Red is a girl that grows up in a small mountain town. She has no parents, so spends time rotating between caretakers, and is told that her place is to stay at home and not go into the woods with the woodsmen. But she loves the woods and when she's a teenager, one of her adoptive fathers makes a move to assault her and she runs away into the woods.

There she meets a solitary woman (me), a grouchy root worker/conjurer with a past of her own (it's revealed that she had a daughter about Red's age that wandered off into the woods and died out there). The two have trouble getting along at first, but they end up healing each other.

I was explaining this to @grogusmum on a polo the other day and she said she basically said it out loud at the same time I did.... "so I'm/you're basically Joel."

Not me finding inspiration in the damnedest of places.

My costume, no lie, includes a green plaid flannel. With the sleeves rolled up.

MY HEART NEEDS FIXING I often get heart flip-flops, extra beats, that kind of thing. I went to a cardiologist about 6 or 7 years ago once when it went on for a whole week and they took an ultrasound and basically told me "less caffeine, more sleep, more exercise."

It still comes and goes, but clears up on its own.

Until this January.

When it lasted a whole month.

So I went to my doctor. They took blood and ran all the tests. They hooked me up on machines and slapped a 24/7 monitor on me. When the monitor results came back, I got a message from my doctor: "Go to Emergency Services. Today."

I spent that day, that night, and then next day in the ER, and @feathersandfoxtails can attest, that place is a little crazy, but ultimately everyone's really nice and took good care of me. I must have talked to 30 different doctors, RNs, residents, learning teams, including at least 5 cardiologists. I had 2 EKGs, 2 ultrasounds, a stress test, 5 different blood draws from an IV, and was monitored all night (you try sleeping when your blood pressure cuff goes off once an hour). And this week, baby had her first MRI, which I actually found rather relaxing.

The diagnosis is that I am not in any immediate danger of attack or failure, my pump is good and my heart structure is normal and healthy.

What I have is bad wiring that sends extra signals. It's probably been there from birth and is now just coming to light. So I'm on medication to keep my adrenaline low (so I don't faint--low possibility, but they're just being cautious) until mid-April. Then they're gonna go into my heart and burn away those bad wires. It's endoscopic (and I'l be awake on the table????), so I'll most likely be in and out in a 12 hour span. (They have to wait until my show closes because of the physical activity.)

Weirdly, I'm not stressed out about it. Everyone's been very kind and responsive, and I trust my care team explicitly. Modern medicine is fascinating and amazing; I am in good hands.

ALL THE OTHER STUFFINS ...is not exciting. It's onboarding this year's batch of 90+ artists to help produce all of their shows. It's reading 48 show proposal applications in a week's deadline and winnowing them down to 1/4 of that to help another organization to produce. It's writing 2 high-stakes recommendations for colleagues that are highly worthy of the fellowships they're applying for. Both the SO and I are in "show mode" which means the cleaning doesn't get done and the dog is often lonely so the house is a mess and Gordy is a bit more anxious than usual.

It will get easier after this weekend.

WHAT'S GOING ON AROUND TUMBLR It's heavy stuff out here. I want to iterate that I'm reading everything and I care very deeply and want to support. The last couple of weeks have been a lot. Forgive me if I need to process and don't have the energy to engage right at this moment. I love and support you all so much.

WRITING I'm officially on a writing break for a bit. I thought maybe I could catch some moments, but once I landed in the ER and we ran out of time in tech to do line work I said, nope, Adira, you rest. Rest so you can be ready when Joel comes back around...which will be the day after you step out of his shoes onstage and turn it over to P on the telly.

There's a lot to be excited for. And a lot more time to fandom around.

Give me a second and let me catch my (literal and metaphorical) breath. I'll come back around soon.

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nicolejones412 · 22 days ago

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Out of Sync Part 7

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: Two chapters in two days! I really should probably be spreading these out to buy time for if/when I run out of steam, but I don't have that kind of impulse control. Again I don't have a ton to say about this one, other than buckle up and enjoy!

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 2 here. Read Part 3 here. Read Part 4 here. Read Part 5 here. Read Part 6 here.

FIC:

"So wait, are you trying to tell me that you're my..." You trailed off, not really wanting to say the word or be wrong.

"The genetic match is consistent with that of a paternity test."

You sat back in your chair, staring into nothing.

"But that's not possible." You'd found yourself saying that a lot lately though.

"I know. Perhaps there is a version of me in your universe."

"But if I have the X gene I got it from you," you countered. "And as far as I'm aware it doesn't - you don't exist where I'm from."

"Perhaps." He sighed, obviously considering asking something.

"Do you have any memory of your mother?"

You exhaled, calling up the few memories you did have. You were able to recall her face well enough. You still heard her voice on occasion. You were seven years old when she died, so it had been a while but not so long that she'd completely faded.

You didn't say another word. You just nodded and opened your mind to him.

There was elegance in how quickly the professor could locate these memories, especially as you recalled them. He took you on the journey with him, and you both relived one of your most cherished memories.

Your mother singing you a lullaby.

It was a simple, commonly known one. You Are My Sunshine to be exact.

You opened your eyes and looked at the professor, who was staring at you in disbelief, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"What was your mother's name?"

You sighed. "I don't actually know her given name. She always went by Grace Y/L/N after some incident that landed her in some form witness protection. I tried to find out, but everything was sealed and buried or burned."

He let out a shaky breath. "When I knew her, she called herself Alexandra Hope. Or Alex for short."

"You're sure you knew her? That specific woman?"

The professor shook his head. "All this time I wondered why she disappeared. No word or warning. Just like when she'd arrived in my life."

He went on to explain that around six years ago, he had met Alexandra, and they had fallen in love. She was a bit of a mystery to him. Purposely so. He'd wanted to get to know her without reading her mind. They spent nearly a year together, and then one day she just disappeared. Once he'd gotten Cerebro, he'd tried to find her, but it was no use. She didn't seem to be anywhere. At one point he used a CIA contact to try to find any record of her, and it was like she never existed.

"So she was from my universe, somehow ended up here, and after getting pregnant she left?"

The professor shrugged. "It's the theory that has made the most sense in the last five years." He wiped his eyes. "I apologize Y/N, I'm not sure I'm in the best way for a lesson today."

You nodded, not sure what to do. You finally landed on going to get some fresh air to give you both time to think.

Hours passed. You'd walked out into the woods surrounding the property. Your mind was reeling and you felt like you had to do something, so since you wouldn't be practicing telepathy today, you chose to focus on your time travel powers, choosing different animals or clouds in the spring air to track as you turned time back 5, 10, 30 seconds at a time.

It wasn't long before you were spent and you plopped down at the base of a tree. You were definitely improving, if only a little. You could make it a few more seconds, be just a bit more precise.

If only you'd had this time to practice before the airport. Before Rhodes.

Your mind wandered from your own world shaking revelation to them. Your old team.

Rhodes. Tony. Vision. Wanda. Nat. Sam. Steve. Bucky.

Of course I'll come back.

That was what you'd said, but how were you supposed to get back when it seemed the literal universe had spat you out.

They were probably worried sick right now. And here you were, just having a family reunion.

You hoped that the team had found the weapons. And you knew that Shuri and Bucky would continue to make progress. In both cases you had pointed them in the right direction, and they were more than capable of handling the rest.

What about Clint? How were he and the kids? You weren't the only spending time with family. You chuckled at that thought.

As the sun got closer to the horizon, you decided it was time to head back.

You wondered what Charles was going through. You at least knew you had a dad out there somewhere, now suddenly he has a daughter show up out of nowhere who is more than a decade older than she should be. You wondered if he'd try to talk to you tonight, or if he was trying to give you space and he would reach out. Did you even want him to reach out? Were you ready to have that conversation?

Who were you kidding? Of course you were ready. You were an orphan finding her father who never knew she existed because of some interdimensional incident.

Before you could decide what to do, you saw him, sitting in his chair staring out over the pond.

Most everyone had gone inside for dinner at this point, so you walked up, sitting on a bench next to him.

After a moment of silence, he pointed across the water.

"My grandfather planted that tree when he was five years old."

You nodded, staring across at it.

"I guess the point I'm trying to make is that this land has been in my family for generations. And I suppose I always assumed that one day I would have children and it would go to them. And then this school became a reality and - oh where was I going with this?" He took a deep breath.

"I am trying very terribly to apologize for my reaction earlier today. Finding out you have a child, who isn't even a child, in fact is hardly younger than yourself and especially when that brings closure to something you thought you would never...and then that closure doesn't exactly help like you thought it would..."

"It's alright," you cut in, turning to him. "I get it. You had a lot of information to take in and your world turned upside down. I've been getting used to that feeling recently."

He nodded, meeting your gaze. "That you have."

You fell back into silence as you both looked out over the water again.

"Who all knows?"

"Just Hank. It's a bit of a hard one to explain."

You nodded and allowed a smirk to cross your face.

"Well I guess we know where I get my incredible talent from."

Charles laughed dryly. "That we do. And you are incredible, Y/N. Extraordinary in every way." He looked down at the ground.

"I know you don't really need a father, nor am I truly ready to be one," he took one of your hands in both of his as he lifted his gaze to find yours, "but I would like to help you where I can. As a tutor and as a friend."

You felt the tears welling in your eyes, and you squeezed his hands.

"I'd like that very much." You both chuckled as tears filled both of your eyes.

"Well then, we'd better go get dinner."

You nodded, standing and offering to push his chair back to the house.

"So what? Do I call you Dad now?"

He laughed out loud. "I'm not sure either of us is ready for that, but Charles will be fine."

May 14, 1967

"Remember I expect your reports on Frankenstein Monday morning. Now go on I don't have to read your minds to know you're ready to get out in the sunshine."

It had rained for nearly a week and the students jumped up at the chance to finally enjoy some nice weather. You sighed and sat down at your desk, sorting through your files.

"Good day?" Charles asked as he rolled in. You nodded.

"Holding their attention was difficult but I can't blame them."

"The students aren't the only ones whose attention is adrift." You stood and moved to put some books on your shelf.

"I'm fine, really."

"I don't have to read your mind to know you're lying. Do you think I don't know what day it is?"

Of course I know what day it is but I'd rather just ignore it.

And you are doing a brilliant job at that, are you?

You both knew you weren't. Month after month, year after year you had grown to accept that this might just be your home now. You, Hank, and Charles had all tried to figure out how to get you back home, but without being able to replicate the event there was no way to know how it happened in the first place, let alone how to make it happen again.

"Well, as that was your last class of the day, I'd say this calls for a drink." You nodded and followed Charles into the halls to his study, where he kept a stash of the good stuff.

"So, what exactly is on your mind today?"

You swirled the liquid in your glass. What exactly were you missing about how today?

"I'm just worried," you started. "Some sort of planet ending threat tends to pop up every couple of years, so I'm worried for my friends." You took a long sip.

"And I miss the internet."

"Ah yes," Charles chuckled.

You'd given up on trying to explain the tension you were under to him about a year in. He insisted that he understood. Two things could be true. You could enjoy being here and learning and teaching and getting to know the family you didn't know you had, and you could miss the one you did know.

The more time that passed, the more you wondered if this would be just as hard for you to leave behind as everything else.

"You don't have to feel guilty for being happy. You know that right?" You nodded, not wanting to admit out loud that he had accurately diagnosed that particular emotion.

How could you be considering not going home? What if they needed you?

But what if you were needed here too?

You decided you were done thinking about that and changed the subject.

It wasn't necessarily the typical father-daughter relationship, but you were grateful to have it.

The evening passed, and at some point you were joined by Hank (you were still getting used to him not being blue), and Alex.

A wonderful way to spend the anniversary of the world turning upside down.

You woke up in a cold sweat. Your dream hadn't necessarily been scary, but it was disturbing.

You couldn't remember all of it, but you clearly remembered the last moment.

Steve, dropping to his knees and saying "Oh God."

You didn't dream of home often, and rarely was it so...vivid.

You felt a pain in your stomach and groaned.

Must've been the whiskey.

As you got up, the moon still high in the sky, you realized you were mistaken.

Charles! you screamed in your mind, hoping to wake him up. His room wasn't far from yours.

Y/N? he even sounded groggy in his mind. What's happening?

It's happening again. I think I'm leaving.

Leaving? What are you-? Oh! He didn't even have to ask if you were choosing to. Your mind was awash with fear.

Charles pressed into your mind, taking note of everything, and even though you knew he wasn't physically standing there, you were grateful for the image he tricked your brain into seeing as the tugging and pain increased.

Y/N, listen to me. You need to stop fighting this. You'll be alright, but I feel what you're feeling and it's going to tear you in two.

But...but I-

I know. I love you, and I believe you will find us again.

You blinked and Charles was gone.

So was your room. You looked around, and realized it was nighttime. You were standing on a damp city street in your pajamas. You frantically reached up to your neck, finding the simple X necklace which Charles had given you on your first birthday there.

You were drained. Conscious this time, but drained. You didn't have it in you to figure out where you were. You just got into an alley sat on the ground and cried.

"Excuse me?" a woman asked as she approached you. You quickly skimmed her thoughts, trying to see if there were any clues to where you were, or if she was a threat.

Oh the poor dear, she's got to be freezing. I wonder when she last ate. This really isn't my best idea but I can't just leave her here.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Yes, um, well, no. I seem to have gotten myself lost."

She looked you up and down as she pulled off her coat. "It would appear so! Here, take this."

You decided now was the time to sort out where and when you were, as non-suspiciously as possible.

This woman's hair and clothes implied you were further back than before. Great.

"Well, I know you don't know me, but you really shouldn't be out on the street. Come on let's get you warmed up and fed."

"Oh I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes you can, come on now."

You relented, exhaustion hitting you like a truck.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. My name is Peggy by the way. Peggy Carter."

You had to keep yourself from holding your mouth agape. No way you were standing in front of the Peggy Carter.

The silence got awkward before you realized she was waiting for your name. You panicked, deciding it might be better to give a false name this time.

"Charlotte. Charlotte Grace."

When you got to her apartment, you passed out quickly on the couch. You didn't have time or energy to stress about anything right now.

You were shocked that when you awoke, the sun wasn't up yet. Peggy was still fast asleep. You took a deep breath, weighing your options.

You decided the easiest way might actually be best this time.

So, you dove into her mind, getting all the information you could. Today was March 23rd, 1942. Tomorrow she was going to meet with Dr. Erskine and join the SSR. You even searched her mind to find a cover story she might actually believe about you being outside alone in the cold.

Everything in her mind pointed to the idea that you might actually be in your home timeline, just in the past. There was no way to no for sure at this point, so you settled on a plan.

You started placing barriers, just like Charles had taught you, but this time in your own mind.

You would trick yourself into believing that you were in fact Charlotte Grace. Trying to keep us much of it true as possible, you decided that you had traveled from upstate. You were supposed to meet someone (can't just be someone, who is he?) an old friend of your father's, who had passed away. But it turned out this friend had also passed recently, and so she found you after you'd been kicked out of your hotel because you ran out of money.

You filled in blanks in this new personality, and where you missed gaps you'd have to fill in with real life things. You having knowledge of the future could jeopardize everything, so it was better to play it safe.

You would be Charlotte Grace, a strange, unlucky human girl who had no super powers, and you'd have a back door in your subconscious to wake you up. If things got too intense and you needed to wake up, your subconscious could always punch a way through.

You laid down, ready to go back to sleep for at least an hour before the sun came up.

When you woke up, you wouldn't remember anything, at least not in your conscious mind.

That should make it so you could keep your head down and not disturb anything too big.

Right?

A/N: I told you we'd be back! Really I have loved writing again and this idea has been in my head for years, so I can't believe I'm actually doing the dang thing. Hope you enjoy!

#thunderbolts #bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #imagine #captain america #xmen #avengers #new avengers #the first avenger #captain america civil war #multiverse saga #the winter soldier #x reader

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