#oh and keep in mind that some flowers are deadly for cats

[slimyenemy]

married someone today. in my room. do you think they'll react chat🥺

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz brekker x reader In The Rain

A/N: So this is going to be interesting... So because Kaz has some problems with touching people I thought I would make the reader suffer as well... The reader in this story has problems with skin contact as well and was abused as a kid so beware! Also this was also posted on my wattpad account you can find me on wattpad @ kk123huff!

Warnings: Bad writing, CHILDHOOD ABUSE, HARASSMENT, language, HAPHEPHOBIA, SEXUAL ABUSE, THE MENAGERIE, THE READER THINKS OF HERSELF AS NOT GOOD ENOUGH YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL IN EVERY WAY FOLKS! Some angst then some fluff near the end. You have been warned!

Summary: The crows are on a mission (Matthias is alive) and the crows don't know you very well (well expect for Kaz you and him have known each for years and he's technically your boyfriend but the other crows have no idea!!!) It's a dangerous mission (well when is it not hehe.) And Kaz is going to die but you save him! Let's see what will be revealed to the rest of the crows because of this dilemma. The reader also can turn into a creature like; wings come out of her back claws produce and she gets horns and a tail, and Fangs. She has a healing factor, kinda like Spiderman's, and she can touch people and they can die, and she basically has a mix between Alina's powers and the Darklings powers that I call moonlight magic. All her senses are amped up and same with her strength, agility, speed the whole shebang. Cheesy I know. But anyways onward and enjoy!

(All rights go to Leigh Bardugo and You I just own the plot!)

Reader p.o.v.

Running in the rain sucks. Especially when your running from the Blacktips. Especially when there are Blacktips chasing you and another group of people named the Hunters. Especially when those people were hired by Tante Helen. So to start off today I was going on a mission with Kaz and his crow friends, to officially end the Blacktips and whip them out  completely. Then to give the mission a good start none of the crows (besides Kaz) were trusting me at all. And I didn't expect them to but when I mean trust I mean like mission level of trust so they would at least trust my capability or at least trust Kaz. But they absolutely did not!    

Which is fine, because why would they trust a monster? Not that they know I'm one (again besides Kaz.)

So when we went to ambush their leader (the Blacktip's) there was no one there.

Well Kaz's entire plan just about went up in flames in those couple moments.

So we scope the area a bit till this guy jumps me and holds a knife to my throat.

Fantastic. This day is just perfect.

Being held right up against a man that's not Kaz with a history in the menagerie may off set me a tinsy bit. Screw you guy. Then it was fine though because I hit a spot on his neck to make his hand go numb so he drop the dagger and with his knife I killed him. Slit throat of course.

The irony that comes with living.

Then at least 33 men because apparently the Blacktips are sexist come into the abandoned warehouse. Kaz turned to us gave us a nod and we ran. While we're running for our lives these guys (there's about 8 of them) which call themselves the Hunters as they yelled what they wanted at us and came pouncing towards me. And of course they wanted to kill me.

So life is just amazing right now, and running in the rain sucks. Screw the rain saint/god because I'm going to tear their eyeball out if I meant them in death.

I run around a corner with the rest of the crows following because I can run inhumanly fast (well not really just faster then the average human.) Then I run into a weird sort of field thing that was close the the warehouse so we can fight and know where everyone is because their is a lot of people who want to kill me and Kaz. Great.

You could just let your other side out and this could be done in minutes. A voice in my head whispers.

Shut up. I think to myself. Everyone hates a monster. I think as I take a quick glance over to Kaz.

The crows and I gather ourselves together, I look to Kaz; "We could still end this, the Blacktips's leader is here." I nod my head over to the big bulky man with dirty blonde hair and redish pale skin looking for our hiding spot.

Kaz's gaze is on mine unwavering with those topaz eyes with that strike of green in them every now and then. "We could." He says

"But..." Nina says. I glance over to her quickly, but what? So I say exactly what I think.

"But what?" I snap slightly annoyed- we should be getting a move on there's 41 people to take down we have to get going.

"Those guys wanted to kill you Y/n, it's not safe for anyone here it could be potentially fatal to this job."

I shrug my shoulders uncaring, who would care if I died? Kaz might for a while. I sneak a glance at Inej. But he has her, and I know she's 100 times better than I am Kaz just needs to see that.

"Who isn't after to kill me these days? Plus a jobs a job, I die, I die, there's nothing anyone can do about that. If I'm going to die might as well do it fighting, also you don't just stop a job you keep on going regardless. It doesn't matter if I'm a casualty as long as the job got done then it's fine."

Everyone looks at me with a face of shock apparently not expecting that answer.

"So what's the plan." I snap yet again being set of guard by that damn man.

Kaz sighs knowing he can't stop me. "Okay..." He starts talking. "I know how we're going to get out of this."

_________________Mild time skip like 25mins top, and your just about to start the plan____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sorry that was weird, onward!

I take Kaz's hand and squeeze it slightly but let it go just as fast. Just a reminder that I needed - even if he had the gloves. He glances over to me and his face is a mix of emotion;  worry, love, anger, and some more I couldn't identify.

Love? He could never love you. The voice hissed. You will never be enough, you monster! The voice laughed. You must be going insane! I growl slightly. Quiet. Fine suit yourself to your madness you inhuman.

Kaz looks over to me and his mouth quirks up a little bit and he nods at me.

"Come on let's go show them what a murder of crows look like." I grin sadistically.

We come barging out of our hiding spot hitting them at all ends. I pull out my knives and charge towards the Hunters.

I slash my knife onto one of their arms and the man growls in pain, as I place another cut right on his thigh. He nods his head and 7 other men come to back him up. I cock my head to the side and grin.

"Well boys, it looks like it might not be a fair fight for you!" And with that I'm off. I pounce on the one beside the one I already injured and with two knives in each hand like claws coming out of my skin I slash his throat open and he drops to the ground dead.

Then 3 come at me this time while 4 come around to my back. Not a chance kiddos.

I jump really high into the air then with amazing speed come down onto 2 guys killing them on impact. Now the other five are pissed at me for killing 2 guys at once great. They circle around me, it's like their trying to Hunt a predator with their sloppy movements and mindsets mind you.

"We we're sent in here by Tante Helen to bring you to her or to at least kill you." The man smiles.

"It may be easier than we thought." Okay so you can call me whatever you want I don't care but never tell me I can't kill you. It's the only thing I seem to be good at.

I howl out into the open and I can feel the transformation already.

Dark black feathery wings spout from my back like flowers on steroids, I feel my teeth take the shape of some deadly fangs, of brown-red cat like tail comes out from under, horns warp around my head like warping paper, and majestic claws form onto my nails.

The men look at me in fear and a certain blood lust is there that wasn't before.

"You ready boys."

It's a mess of bodies and I think there's only 4 guys left, I jump on one of them tear off his head blood splattering all over me even though it probably didn't matter because there was blood all over my body at this point. I stick my claws into the other chest and he slowly falls to the floor chocking on his own blood.

Then I see it.

It's obviously another man but the difference here is that he has a gun trained on Kaz while he's occupied with the other boy.

And he's pulling the trigger.

Without so much as a second thought my wings lift up and take flight and with a boost of moonlight magic I fly right into Kaz causing him to slip and kill the other man.

Oh and I got shot.

Blood sputters from my chest and I fall to the ground. Kaz whips towards me and yells; "Y/n!"

Or least I think he did everything is a bit hazy right now. I feel myself transform back into my normal human form. And Kaz cradles me in his arms and I realize with a first he doesn't have his gloves on. He commands something to Jesper about killing the last man and something to Nina and Inej about finding healers.

"It's going to be okay Y/n stay with me damn it!" But it sounded slow and hazy - it must be that damn rain. Suddenly I gasp in realization. I could use my moonlight magic to heal myself. In my excitement I accidentally kissed Kaz.

We haven't kissed before think that neither of us we're ready but by the saints, I never wanted to stop.

His lips we're gentle and soft against mine, they shifted with mine as if we were meant to fit together. It was all the stars in the universe coming down on us, it was binding us yet it was destroying everything around. Beautiful destruction.  

Oh and I healed myself while this happened.

We pulled away running out of air and because Kaz thought I was still dying.

"Moonlight magic it helped me heal some of the way, my healing factor will do the rest." I manage to say with Kaz so close to me.  He raises his eyebrow, then Kaz fucking Brekker gives me a full on relived smile.

Then in that moment we realized we had an audience.

Fuck this shit.

Kaz picks me up (what the fuck) but I'm secretly glad because I don't think I could even stand up right now. The crows faces are just priceless I giggle a little and right now it doesn't even matter to me that I showed them the monster, Kaz trusts them so I should take that leap. Plus Kaz and I just toke a big step in our relationship I couldn't be happier.

"Meet my girlfriend."

Their faces transform into surprised and even more shock, but a little bit of pride too. And I smile because for the first time in years the voices in my head are speechless.

So that's that I guess. I honestly suck at writing for Kaz and there may be a part 2! We will see... 🤪

2014 Words

-thedelusionreaderbitch

[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 | ღ | 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || what seems to be a normal rich summer morning with the women who lives across the honeysuckle boulevard from his cottage lies something else. a buttery rich feeling that spreads deep within Bucky’s heart as he takes his neighbor, alongside Alpine to the farmers market for coffee.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || fluffy fluff! ➳ part one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || retired!bucky barnes × neighbor![black//woc]reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3K ➳ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || if you think long walks with bucky and alpine in the sunny countryside are warnings then so be it but there is lots of food mentioned. ღ also reader owns a flower shop, not a warning thought just some info!

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || this version of cherry wine by hozier ღ this version of mystery of love by sufjan stevens ღ

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || eeeeep!!! so this is my first bucky with alpine fluff and i’m very glad to have it be the first for my fluffy mini series that i’m doing for this month! ღ I don’t describe reader too much throughout the story but what is clear is that I don’t specify on skin tone but yes the person in the moodboard is a woc! ღ anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy reading! ღ

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it was a lavish affair when Bucky found himself tangled with you in the bed of a million perennial petals.

clothing falling and bodies twisting themselves against each other in not lust but emotional apprehension. the soft petals of rose, carnation and violet keep pouring like blissful rain, entangling in his hair and in the crooks of your body.

enough to suffocate but enough to make him feel enveloped in the fantasy- the divination of you you you and only you.

for you are butterscotch benevolence that he will let pool like ambrosial nectar in the cavernous hollows of his collarbones. your tears of seventh heaven euphoria trickling onto his skin forming constellations- like the paint speckles on the forlonged artists canvas of his naked soul.

you are honey sunlight oozing from the basin of the candy floss sky, lacing with the shedding petals that continue to powder in their divine scent and morality. his fine pink sheets soft and silky as the rose petals of Heliogabalus, he’d sigh in heavenly pleasure to be buried alive in petals if she was drunk of the love he has for her.

he sees her playing, singing, dancing and bringing her virtuous spring song deep within the glossy shine of her honey hive eyes. love seeping in the melancholy streams leaking through the old creeky floorboards of his home and straight into the chambers of his heart.

so promising yet so grandeur as he feels his chest warm with her very touch, the ivory bow encased in the virtuous flowers of her emblem garden in his hands- he’d think that he was Cupid but oh how he’s been struck by his own arrow in great surprise. straight into the once extravagant chamber of his heart.

the spiraling golden arrow destined to pierce and rip through the tender muscle of breast to the beating vessel that writes a tragic tale of eternal ravishment in the movements of lyrical beats. muttering with languor-glazed lips, he’d keep her love like a an old locket against his chest for it’s what reminds him of home whenever he feels the cold element on his skin.

there are pieces of you scattered in the wonderous arteries of his heart.

nestled in the folds of the beating muscle, take heed.

for that is his home.

y/n is his perennial feelings left unsaid, exquisite pain yet ethereal serenity. his soft bed of roses and his deadly golden arrow, all meant to give his heart hope.

that he was- however it seems the bed of roses and all the lovely elements it holds have come to a staggering pause.

now as the sun hits the past super soldiers eyelids that dream of flower petals and the heavenly vision of you disappear. they flutter open to meet the single stream of sunlight that has slipped past the slit of the sheer bedroom curtains. brightening up the somewhat clustered space of the room with its single golden string.

Bucky sighs in defeat, this is the fifth dream he’s had of you in a month and he was barely pushing past the second week of May. before he didn’t mind the dreams, they calmed his mind while he layed in slumber during the thunderstorms of April but now they were resilient. it wasn’t no regular thing to dream about the women across the boulevard in the haven of flower fields and maple trees.

Bucky knew this but he couldn’t help but not treat these dreams sweetly. they were the definition of sweet torture, you never hurt him in those dreams as he did to himself but it was a pain to know that you probably don’t think of him the same way. for goodness sake ever since he and Alpine moved the only interactions he had with the maiden were just acknowledgments as they passed each other on their daily errands.

he shouldn't be this infatuated with someone who he's only met.

the soft hum of a purr finally awakens Bucky, his cats paw brushing against the half covered skin of his fleshed bicep. it takes a pat or two to make Bucky open his eyes to find Alpines blue hues staring back at his and he gives his furry friend a crooked smile. a chorus of meows welcoming him to another sunny morning in the peaceful and harmonious countryside.

“morning pal, ya slept well?” Bucky smiles as he lazily lifts his hand to scratch the right spot behind Alpines ear.

stretching out of bed till his feet touch the cool wood flooring, following the simple path from the bedroom to the kitchen he pours Alpine his dish of cream and gets started on his own breakfast. whisking hen eggs his neighbors from afar gifted him the day before and toasting the freshly baked loaves of bread he bought specially from the market yesterday.

Bucky normally didn’t take any gifts from anyone, he wasn’t that type of person to feel comfortable with those sort of things but as the days gone by the cheerfulness of the communities welcoming energy towards him has soften his doubt.

eating his simple breakfast paired with coffee, Bucky bites into his buttery egg toast whilst quickly scribbling down his to-do list for the day. of course there isn’t any tasks that the hundred and ten year old man has to get done but there were things that Bucky did look forward to ever since he settled in a month ago. the country was a lovely peacefulness he had forgotten about ever since he was a boy.

traveling to his grandparents farm away from the city for memorable childhood summers in the sun and fields. turning his head to meet the white linen sheets that draped over the kitchen panels, Bucky can see the herd of brown and black spotted cows from the distance. tapping the pencil against the shiny polish of the kitchen table he bites his lip on what else to add on.

his head lifts up to see through the other window that casts its lovely light against his paper. blue eyes meeting the toffee cobblestone path that led to her cottage, hidden amongst the shrubbery of acorn trees and flower budded bushes. hearing from lots of locals in the cobblestone village near the sparkling sea that she owns a little orchard of peach and cherry trees, a few strawberry patches amongst the vegetation.

it made sense why he sometimes finds a large wooden basket of those ruby fruits at his doorstep from time to time. a card inviting him over for some tea that he would agree to yet he would always call you the next day a stuttering mess canceling it over some important errands. nonetheless it made Bucky's heart swell how understanding you were, sweet just like the ripe fruits you pluck for him on Sundays.

Bucky would make copplers and sometimes pies out of them and if he wasn't so scared of the possibility of being too attracted to you he'd head over to your place so he and him would eat them in your gazebo. but of course he can't do everything his heart implores him to do. was it bad to want to get to know you and imagine what it would be like to befriend you?

maybe do lots more than just befriend you...

sometimes he would find a glimpse of your form in the distance as he headed for the lake neat the lavender fields up north to fish something for dinner. humming while you cared for your flowers, singing to them as you danced along the vintage radio. Bucky could see himself singing and dancing alongside you. caring for your precious tulips, primroses and other beautiful flowers that you sold.

those pretty flowers sweet and divine just as her lips and voice when the two first met, when he arrived in the too expensive car that stood out amongst the scenery. arms occupied with bouquets upon bouquets of trimmed flowers that practically shielded her face, his body ran straight into yours when he got out of his car. flower petals falling with the impact and him apologizing one thing led to another and he helped her with her bouquets all while being stricken when he got a clear look at her.

a clear look at you.

lovely in your sundress that flowed beautifully against your bodies soft planes, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that made him start to stutter. something about you that made his heart bloom in a recherché flower he still can’t understand because he can still hear the velvety tone of your voice speaking your own name when giving each other’s your introduction.

from there on out a glowing ember of clustered stars burned in the pit of his belly when you spoke his name and he spoke yours. it was soft and innocent as the flowers in your arms but the introduction was cut off far too short for Bucky's liking but he promised you a coffee when he was completely settled in. having to do something so he could see you again cause oh how he wishes to hear you speak his name again and again and again till the flowers sprout, bloom and decay with each coming season.

maybe he should pay you a visit and bring up that coffee...

the music from the radio filling the bright cottage kitchen sweetly alongside the birds singing their song outside. Alpine takes his seat across from him, yawning over the new day that brings nothing but lazy laps and baked fish treats. forking a few honey drizzled raspberries in his mouth, Bucky walks to the front door and just in time the daily paper plops down on his feet from the passing paper boy whipping through the grassy roads on the shiny steel of a ringing bicycle.

bending down to retrieve the newspaper, he passes through the sidewalk of petunias and violets till he reaches his mailbox. the wood creaky and the metal rusty but the daisies that sprinted around the opening was a pretty site to see before Bucky grimaced at people from the outside world wanting to invade his privacy. grabbing the letters before smelling the sweet daisies, Bucky looks through the letters one by one. ripping some that had no use for to be used as fire food for his fireplace, grunting that even though he’s away from the tabloids and cameras there are still people eager enough to want something from him.

a soft voice from the distance pulls him out of his annoyance, it makes his eyes lift from his dreaded mail to the women a mile away singing her song as she reaches her mailbox. Bucky can’t help but look at her from afar; and maybe Alpine knows this to as he watch his lovesick owner admire the maiden from the kitchen windowsill.

with some obscene fortune he notices you checking your mailbox as well. heart pacing in his chest, he wishes he didn’t go outside before showering and at least brushing his hair for your waving to him from the distance.

“hello hello Bucky!” your sweet voice exclaims and it just adds onto the heaven that is the morning it makes his cheek hurt from how much he’s smiling.

“hello hello to you y/n. how is the shop coming along?” Bucky shouts and his heart sinks when you wave him over to you.

despite his mind telling him to not pursue closer his heart makes him walk his way to you standing next to your Valentine shaped mailbox. his worries slipping away when there's a underlying comfort in your posture and aura, alluring like the bees are to the flowers. welcoming and warm and he can't help but feel that way every time he's near you.

speaking of you, its reassuring to also know he wasn't the only one to wear pajama's out since your still in your blue silk nightgown. matching silk slippers adorning your feet, you sip from your tea cup as you read what he believes to be a Cosmopolitan.

“it’s coming along great, thank you! a bit slow the first week but that’s how any business starts but I just received my tenth loyal customer and i’m more than certain i’ll be selling lots of flowers today.” you spoke as you smiled to yourself then up at him.

checking your mail, Bucky’s surprised that you have quite a handful of letters and boxes. all written in lovely cursive and packaged nicely, almost like love letters and gifts. it makes Bucky’s heat sink, knowing that he might not be the only one who’s fallen head over heels for you. by all means you probably have the whole village under a spell with just the way you smile alone but he wants to see that smile the most.

he wants to be the reason for that smile.

“that’s sounds wonderful y/n, maybe I could stop by and pick a pretty bouquet or two," you only smile wider upon those words and much to his excitement you even brush your hand against his.

"oh really? have a special someone in your life who needs some loving?" you perk as you open an envelop but the question makes Bucky's throat dry on how he should answer.

you seem like the type of maiden who loves an honest man- yes, he should be honest.

"well... there is this one special lady." Bucky lingers and that makes you snap your attention away from the letters in your hands. voice dying in your throat at those words and heart beat hitting pause.

"I always thought Alpine was gonna be the only one to get to my soft spot- we sleep in the same bed together," he stops to laugh a bit, rubbing the back of neck with his metal arm and you laugh along with him.

"how is Alpine? i'm noticing he's getting into a routine with sleeping in my chamomile beds in the afternoon," you smile and bring your tiny tea cup to your lips. "would you care for a cup Bucky? this just so happens to be chamomile,"

"Alpine is doing good and thank you for bringing that up I was beginning to wonder where that rascal has been leaving for. will have an important talk to him once I get home and- I was going to ask you something," Bucky speaks while admiring how your thick lashes curtain your honey hive hues as you sip the steaming golden liquid.

no one should look that beautiful just drinking tea yet here he is, breathless on the simple action. if he truly wanted a cup he'd wish to drink from your tiny cup, to press his lips upon the porcelain rim where yours once brushed against. drink the sweet sunshine to experience the closest thing to your honey kiss...

"don't worry it's alright! I love looking over at him when I have tea at the back patio, he's quite a lovely guest. very well mannered, and yes Bucky is there anything I can help you with?" you cannot deny that your heart is practically skipping beats in your chest, fast and lively like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, for someone who has done the simple thing of asking someone out for couple hundreds of times a hundred years ago from now it’s a disappointment that he’s lost his touch. however you don’t seem to notice or care but that doesn't mean he should give up. not when you're right here glowing in your morning dew radiance, anticipating the next words to slip past those lips.

it's now or never.

"h-how do you feel about that coffee I promised? today? I have a few errands to run in town and I was wondering if you would accompany me- on my errands... if that doesn't bother you,” Bucky rambles to a stop and he's thankful you're still smiling that closed lip grin against the porcelain of the cup.

"yes Bucky I would love that! there's a coffee cart near the shop I work at but what about your lady? she wouldn't mind us going out for coffee, would she?" you speak as you gather your letters in your arms. glancing up at Bucky to receive some conformation and Bucky bites his lips.

"I don't think she'll mind. in fact... I think she would love me to go out once in a while. I have a habit of only going out when necessary, coffee with you wouldn't hurt,"

"that's perfect, i'll see you at twelve then Bucky. you can help me open shop to," you smiled and Bucky returned an even warmer one back.

filling your heart with a rush of liason, like a tea cup filling with tea. something meant to be full and warm, embraced with someone's touch and lips as they drank each fluttering honey glazed sensation they have for one other.

something that seems to be happening right now before they break their strong eye contact, wiry- crooked smiles still embellishing their sun-freckled faces.

you wish you could kisses each one off his clean shaven cheeks right now, slightly rosy but oh how it would feel like peach skin against your lips.

Bucky wishes to kiss yours, the shine of your lips the form of heart shaped clouds and he just can't seem to get his head out of the amorous blue you cast him into.

"i'll be seeing you in an hour Bucky," you draw before walking away with a cheeky wink, your eyes still locking with his before you get to the rosy sunflower porch.

"and i'll be waiting for you doll,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading part one! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this join my taglist to be notified of my future works! ♡♡♡

𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || @cloudystevie ღ @steebsbabygirl ღ @honeychicana ღ @afriendlyblackhottie ღ @chrissquares ღ @denisemarieangelina ღ @hevans-angel ღ @drewsbuzz​ ღ @assoftheamericana ღ @gracechristo ღ @little-baby-vixen ღ @sohoseb ღ @quxxnxfhxll ღ @peachesofcolour ღ @abschaffer1 ღ @sea040561 ღ @afriicanhoe ღ ღ ღ

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || @burninmatches ღ @lovesguiltypleasuress ღღღ

[cbk1000]

So something truly awful happened today, and this is your PSA to be very careful of yourself, your pets, your loved ones, etc. in these heat waves and not to underestimate how deadly hot weather is. I’m going to put this under a cut because it involves a dog dying (not Seamus). I just want people to please, please be so mindful in extreme temps and to understand how quickly a pet or even you can be overcome by them.

We got a call early this morning that my sister’s 7 month old German Shepherd pup died of heatstroke during the night and she found him when she woke up. He was not left outside or anything like that, he was in the apartment with her; she had fans running and she does have a window AC unit, but it’s one of those shitty old ones they put in apartments and honestly wasn’t even really making a dent in the temperature in the apartment. The AC unit is in the bedroom and he sleeps in the living room, but the bedroom door was open, and still there was no air flow whatsoever, and this is in a very small apartment. We were in and out of the apartment a couple of times today taking care of things, and even in the bedroom where the AC was, it was maybe a couple degrees cooler. There wasn’t room in there for his crate, but tbh, even if there had been, I don’t know that it would have made a difference. I also think the fan was probably just blowing around hot air and not doing a lot to help. I mention all these things because it’s easy to say, “Oh, the apartment is so stuffy and gross” without realizing that it’s not just those things, but also dangerously hot. Most people know not to leave a dog out in 110 degrees in the sun with no shade, but if you have no or inadequate AC, your own home could be just as deadly for a pet or even you.

I don’t know how hot the apartment actually was, and it does cool down a bit overnight, so I’m really not sure how hot it was that evening. This was also not our hottest day this week, and he survived those other temps, so I really don’t know why he died when he did, if it was simply accumulative effects, if he got upset and stressed himself out and that little bit was what put him over and his heart gave out, if the AC was working better at the beginning of the week but just couldn’t keep up then--I don’t know. I’ve asked myself all these questions but obviously it doesn’t really matter why, just that it happened and there’s nothing we can do about it now. 

We buried him this morning on our property since we have several acres, so now we’ve got a marker out in our field with some flowers on it for a 7 month old dog who should have had a long, happy life. Needless to say my sister is inconsolable. Mr. Jenn and I went over without her to her apartment to break down his crate and take it away because she couldn’t stand the idea of walking past it and expecting to see him in there looking up at her. 

I think she had some heat exhaustion herself, so we’ve got her and her cat over at our house where there’s an extra room and central air, and we just went back over to her apartment to set up a bigger AC unit that we have in the hopes that overnight it may cool the apartment off enough to where I feel safe letting her and the cat stay there, which I do not right now. If it can’t bring the temperature down enough, I’m going to talk her into staying with us till the heat wave breaks next week. I do not want to compound this tragedy with another one.

This has been a truly awful day that I do not wish on anyone, so please, watch yourselves closely, watch your pets closely, even if you’re inside with them; even if you have fans running. 

[0zzysaurus]

Tuggoffelees, "dress" or "cooing" I can't choose lol

Cooing:

It had been a year since the last Jellicle Ball. Between then and now, Tugger had certainly come of age. Jennyanydots made it a regular routine to praise him for what a robust tom he’d grown to be. No longer was he a lanky, awkward, short-furred adolescent - tripping over his own legs and tangling himself in the junkyard debris. The tribe would be in for quite the shock.

Since then, he’d sprouted a wonderfully full and shiny mane. A spectacular indicator of overall peak health. The frizziness of his tail had relaxed, and now it snaked around alluringly. Even his laugh had deepened from a croaking sqeak to an utterly delectible rumble. The junkyard queens were helpless against his siren songs. 

Tugger preened his claws in the afternoon sun. All around him, a slow trickle of cats arrived. Family from far and wide converging together for a week of celebrations leading up to the Jellicle Ball. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have a date - he just wasn’t quite sure who it would be yet.

Beside him, Munkustrap settled to observe the arrivals.

“So,” The silver tabby smirked. “Have you chosen any of your adoring fans to take to the ball yet?”

Tugger sighed dramatically in response. “No, I just can’t make up my mind, Munk. I keep settling on Cass, but then I see Tanto and I’m like, I wanna take her too. And don’t even get me started on Bomba. That vixen is gonna be the death of me.”

“Sounds like you’re spoiled for choice, hm?”

“It’s a nightmare.” 

As the two brothers chatted, another group of toms entered the junkyard. Bounding over in a blur of patchwork fur. Munkustrap slid down from the junk pile to greet them while Tugger did his best to act aloof.

Down below, he could hear the recently cracked voices of Pouncival and Tumblebrutus. They laughed at some joke that Tugger couldn’t quite hear. What he did hear was their not-so-subtle gasps of surprise at Tugger’s appearance.

“Is that really him?” Tumble whispered.

Pounce simply stared with his mouth agape, until Tumble closed it for him with a helpful paw. 

“Yes, it is. Try not to feed into his growing ego, would you?”

Tugger couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s comment. But it hadn’t just been Tumble and Pounce who had joined them. Still inspecting the yard at the front gate was someone he’d been waiting for. Mistoffelees. Tugger took the opportunity to leap down - briefly giving Tumble and Pounce a quick show of his agility before sauntering over to his best friend.

Oddly, the closer Tugger seemed to get, the shakier his steps became. Misto’s features slowly came into clear focus, and Tugger could see the healthy sheen in his fur. Misto’s chest fluff had grown voluminous, and he’d donned a silky, plum coloured ribbon around his neck - knotted into a bowtie. 

Even closer, and Tugger noticed the subtle curve in Misto’s hips - a gentle sloping of his waist that eased down into strong looking legs, and ended in a snake-like tail that twisted and curled with anticipation.

Once Tugger looked back up, however, it was all over. Eyes that had once been a soft, baby blue, were now mix-matched. One was an icy blue, the other a piercing green. His ears were delightfully curved upward, and his cheek fuzz cupped his face perfectly. Tugger couldn’t help but think about his own hands cupping that face too.

And that smile. Oh, boy... the smile. It wasn’t until Tugger was right there, right in front of him, utterly lost for words in a stunned silence, that he heard something unusual. An odd rumble. Only it wasn’t as deep as a rumbling purr or a growl. It was light and airy. It sounded like pure happiness in a jar. An excited trilling that could only ever come from a cat who had just seen the most beautiful thing on earth.

Before he even had time to explain himself, Misto was hiding a quiet giggle behind an elegant hand. Tugger felt his entire face burst into a deep, flushing heat. If he could stop the embarrasing trill in the pit of his chest he would, but he couldn’t. Misto was just too stunning.

“I...” Tugger started, still scrambling to find something, anything to say. “I uh... Hi, Misto.”

 As Tugger spoke, the trilling only seemed to grow louder from his open mouth.  The tuxedo tom smiled.

“Hello, Tugger. Wow, you’ve grown, haven’t you?”

Tugger was going to explode. Even Misto’s voice had changed into a deliciously smooth, gentle tone.

“H-Hi...” Tugger stuttered. “Oh! Uh, you too! You got a lot taller. I like the bowtie - look’s real nice.”

Misto raised an eyebrow, and gave a knowing smirk. “You think so? Well that’s good. I remember you saying purple was my colour.”

“Did I say that? Huh, you probably remember last year’s conversations better than I do. But I guess past-me was right. You look fantastic.”

As their conversation continued, it was becoming harder and harder to suppress the trilling, and the louder it got, the more flustered Tugger became. With the flustering came more trilling and so on and so forth. It was a deadly cycle.

“You’re wanting to say something to me, aren’t you Tugs?” Misto inquired with a devilish look in his eye.

Tugger was helpless to it, and so was the rumble in his chest. He looked back with a desperate expression, not wanting to open his mouth again lest the loudest most embarrassing chatter were to come out. It was just his luck then that Misto had undefeatable intuition. 

“If you want to take me to the ball, you’re going to have to court me first. I don’t do flings, Mr Rum Tum Tugger.”

For the remainder of that week, Misto found himself being waited on hand and foot by the love-struck tom. An array of flowers, feathers, gifts of food and all kinds of thoughtful catering - vying for his affection. All the while escorted by the pleasant echo of a deep, infatuated trilling. 

[a-simple-imagine]

The Rarest Cat

Synopsis: Charlie tries to bring home yet another scaly friend

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x reader

Words: 1k+

A/N - This was just something short written from a silly prompt i found. Thank you for 1.4k btw

It was a glorious summer evening; the little cottage bathed in the glow of the setting sun. A gentle breeze tickled your skin as it filters through the open window in the kitchen. You flipped through the pages of a cookbook you'd received from Molly; it wasn't an activity you didn't partake in often. Charlie liked to joke that you never knew what you were getting which was fair because half the time your dishes came out... inventive. With a wave of your wand, the ingredients you had collected started preparing themselves until they combined into a pie. Decorative flowers made of pastry adorned the top for a bit of flare. The click of the door hits your ears as the pie settles in the middle of the dining table. It smelt delicious which was a good sign.

"You're home on time for once," you call out in jest expecting a playful response that never comes. The cupboard door opens and two glasses and two plates glide through the air and set themselves down on the table. "I have dinner ready if you wanna join me?" Still no response. Maybe it wasn't Charlie? But you didn't get too many visitors out here. You cautiously approach the front door; grip tightening around your wand but as your eyes settle on the vibrant red hair pulled up into a tiny ponytail. A sigh of relief slips past your lips and you wand falls to your side. "Why didn't you answer?" He turns around slowly revealing his tender expression; his freckled face dusted in the lightest shade of pink. A moment of confusion quickly transforms into realisation and a hint of anger. In his arms was a scaly little creature, that was mostly white in colour but with a shimmer of lilac. There was no mistake that it was a dragon; a young one at that with a pair of cat ears on its head. "... what is that?"

"What?" Her glances around himself.

"That," you point to the creature that is sitting so calmly in his crossed arms; it's little feet dangling. "In your arms?"

"Oh, a... a cat," Charlie announces ever so quietly; it sounded more like a question. It was almost like he was trying to convince himself it was true despite the overwhelming evidence that it was not, in fact, a cat. With knitted brows, you risk a step closer with arms folded across your chest

"That is clearly a dragon wearing a cat-ear headband, Charlie."

"No, it's not," His head shakes rigorously. "It's clearly a cat- look at its little ears."

He very slowly removes one arm from under the dragon, making sure he can support it with one arm. Then taps each of the little faux cat ears. Your weight falls to one hip. He wasn't serious, right? He didn't actually think he'd get away with this. The creature sneezes in the most adorable way, a little puff of fire shooting into the air. "A cat that breathes fire?"

"...it's a- it's a very rare breed," his arm returns to its spot against the other as he hikes the dragon up more. When your confident the Dragon isn't going to sneeze or set you on fire in any way, you walk towards your favourite Weasley.

"Charlie... sweetheart...," Placing your hands gently against his jaw; your thumb brushes against his adorable cheeks. You can't help but smile when you meet his puppy dog eyes. You lean forward and peck his lips. "It's obviously a dragon- he's cute." You gently pat the little dragons head; thankfully it doesn't manage to nip any of your fingers. "Get rid of it."

Fingertips dancing over his skin as you turn sharply on your heel. "But-"

"But nothing, Charlie," You state firmly, coming to an abrupt stop. You appreciated his passion for dragons but you definitely didn't have space or capacity to look after one. "We've talked about this before. We can't keep a dragon."

"But he's all alone and look how cute he is. He's a little baby with no mummy." He basically shoves the dragon into your face as if that would somehow make you change your mind. "Look at that face and tell him he has to go."

"Does he have a name?" You ask; looking over the little creature. He was about the size of a small dog with sharp teeth and claws that would still do some serious damage. Small but deadly.

"Taro."

You flash Charlie a smile before turning your attention to the dragon. "Taro- you're adorable but you've got to go. Sorry-" then back to Charlie. "Now I have dinner waiting. I baked a pie."

Leading the way into the kitchen, the boy trails along on your heel. How you wished your house was big enough to house an entire dragon just so you didn't have to keep disappointing him. "Oh no, you baked,"

"Well, I used my wand and made a pie- I even put pretty decorations on top." You sit down at the table. Placing the little dragon down, he pulls off the headband and placed it on the table.

"Wow! It looks really good,"

A bright smile settles on your lips and you sit up straighter. "Thank you- you're still getting rid of the dragon."

"I didn't even say anything about him."

"Yeah," you nod, slicing the pie up into equal pieces and putting one onto your plate. "But you were just trying to butter me up, I know you too well."

"I was just trying to appreciate your amazing cooking skills," He shoves a piece of pie into his mouth; groaning in approval. You can't help but chuckle. He really was trying and it was incredibly sweet. With a dramatic sigh, you notice the dragon chewing on the wellington boots that sit by the back door for gardening.

"You can keep him for tonight," His eyes light up. "But he has to go back first thing and he's not sleeping in our bed."

"Really?"

"First thing, Charles Weasley- I mean it."

[nivenor-krosis]

OC Interview : Amala

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

I am Amala, a member of the Shyhold staff.

What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

Oh! Well, I see myself as a woman but have enjoyed the company of both men and women. I am officially single (wink wink) 

Where and when were you born?

I was born in Ferelden 28 years ago. 

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

Knowledge ! And I know how to use a dagger. A deadly combination.

And finally, are you happy?

You know what ? I think I am. 

Family and friends

What is your family like? What is your relationship like with them?

My family is all over the place. My mother died in childbirth years ago, and my father has been raising us with the help of other elves from the alienage. All my sisters work as maid or servants for some lords or other as far as I know. I’m very close to the youngest, Risa.  I had two brothers but one died during the Fifth Blight and the other is… What’s the next question, please ?

Have you ever run away from home?

Haha. Did I ever want to get away from six other siblings and an overprotective dad ?  No, of course not, perish the thought.

“Would you want to get married or have children?

I uh… Maybe, but someone in my situation shouldn’t think too much ahead. 

Do you secretly hate any of your friends?

Hate no. Sometimes wishes they would mind their own business ? Hmmmm yes.

What friend knows everything about you?

That would be Ninette, we share out quarters together and she began working at Skyhold at the same time I did. I swear, you chose the wrong person to do this interview, she knows me more than I do myself !

Asked by fans

Can you read and write? Did you go to school?

I do and I thank my father every waking moment for forcing us to learn to read and write. I went to a private school in order to serve the best houses in Orlais and get good recommendations.

The scariest prediction you made that later came true?

That my brother Fayne was going to cause nothing but trouble… I would have given anything in the whole world to be proven wrong.

What is something you embarrassingly realised too late?

I apparently snore very loudly when I sleep, so Ninette tells me...

Do you have mental or physical problems?

My back hurts like hell, not a good sign for a maid like me. And my shoulder sometimes dislocates itself, charming image, no ?

What’s your main goal right now?

Helping out the Inquisition in any way that I can.

Choices

Drink or eat?

Oooh food! But then the wine…. but the cheese… but the ale...and the cakes…

Both ?

Cats or dogs?

Did I say I was born in Ferelden ?  I had no choice but to like dogs. I do love those stray cats that live in Skyhold, which makes the winter less harsh to live through. And they can sit on my lap without breaking my knees, which is nice.

Optimist or pessimist?

There’s enough pessimists out there, don’t you think ?

Sassy or sarcastic?

You tell me! 

HAVE YOU EVER:

Been caught sneaking out?

I have, but it only made me better at it! At the sneaking part, not the uh, getting caught part. You got that.

Broken a bone?

Oh yeah broke my shoulder once, a horse ran right through me. The cats and conversation with Warden Blackwall are the only reasons I get close to the stables...

Did you get flowers?

I did, and still do sometimes ! Sometimes it’s genuine and sometimes it’s just someone trying to gain access to the keep. I’ve long learned to spot the difference.

Ghosting someone?

The horses.

You pretended to laugh at a joke you did not get?

Haha that’s what my whole job is about !

This is so much fun and actually really useful to get content for OCs ! The credit for Amala’s faceclaim goes to the wonderful Joanne Froggatt and her character in Dark Angel.

Should I tag ? I feel I should tag

@silvanils | @musetta3 | @lorkaji-writes | @darethshirl | @rosella-writes| @melisusthewee​ | @bdafic​ | @kittynomsdeplume​

@morganlefaye79​ I know you did one already, but I also know you have a plenty more OCs, so go crazy ;)

@inquisitoracorn​ I get the feeling this could be useful for you...

[sunfloweroranges]

𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝓕𝓮𝓶!𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝔁 𝓝𝓫!𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝙰/𝙽

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚢'𝚜 𝟽𝟶𝟶 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚋 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝! 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛!! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!✨ 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜: 𝟷𝟸“𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚛.” 𝟸𝟽“𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚖.”

·

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜:𝟷.𝟷𝚔

·

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜:𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏; 𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚣𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏-; 𝚆𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜; 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐

·

·

𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

𝟻:𝟶𝟶 ᴀᴍ ‧ That very number glared red hues into Y/n’s face as they turned to smack the annoying clock off. Their hand reached over to the slightly protruding button and pushed it shushing the device into slumber once more, the blessed silence filled their ears- The silence that was broken by a creaking of bed springs, a deep frown dug into Y/n’s brows, their mood close to getting ruined before the day even begun, it was 5am, on a Saturday.. WEEKEND- but to some it was a day of hunt…

· · · · · ·

Determined aura, almost threatening one spilled from the very presence of the white haired woman as she pulled her hand out to grab a frilly apron colored with baby blues and a text embroided on it saying ‘𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝑜��𝑔𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀’ In a swirly font where the word ‘strongest’ was embroided in shimmering blue string by hand, the same hand that froze at the demonic voice from beneath the sheets, a pair of e/c orbs staring through the white haired woman’s head “I swear to God and all above, that if you take one more step I will pull you back to bed by your ear..”

Gojo chuckled nervously, the aura around her dropping the second a much stronger foe appeared, one that was about to contort her plans “Darling, dear you know I have to be there for the mochigome sale!!” She whined turning to the demon hiding beneath the freshly washed covers. The threatening glare was a lot through their chest and head, they could not look down on such a powerful foe- her spouse, the one she saw as close to an equal when it came to respect.

A hand slowly expanded from the deep, dark, creeps of the cavern, inviting with a slow smooth movement, like a hypnotizing curse, e/c orbs stared through her soul if she hadn’t had it stolen yet “…Come here….” A whisper came from the dark, causing a shiver to run down her spine, spine that was covered by a giant beautiful tattoo of a white tiger with blue eyes, that tattoo that reminded everyone, that she was Satoru The Strongest. Yet she felt her knees weaken by this presence, like an undefeated foe, a dragon lurking in the deep stalking to attack, hypnotizing yet another victim to squirm under its claws…. · · · · · ·

A dull thud and then a gasp were heard as Gojo hit the pillows beneath her ‘the dark undersheets lurker’ now in full view sitting on top of the white haired woman “You promised me to stay longer today!” A h/c haired figure spoke their eyes seemed to glimmer with happiness having the other in their grip “You already went this early yesterday! Do you know just how- lonely I was?!” As they spoke their fingers started to move gently tickling on the blue eyed  females sides making her squirm and laugh, the figures soon fighting which one would tickle who, the pillows were thrown, sheets already kicked off of the bed.

“No mochigome will run away alright? Didn’t that store say they would hold onto a bag for you? You’re their most frequent customer..” A pair of e/c eyes looked right into the enticing sky blues which looked right back, their foreheads pressed together as Gojo this time was leaning above the other figure “After all.. Aren’t I your favorite mochi?” Their doe eyes made the woman weak, her hands clutching on the sheets beside her spouses head- Just like a blood thirsty tiger pup, Gojo had given to her Oyabun, begging for another finger of the body they were digging a grave for at 3am-

Satoru shook, her face flushed to hell and back with the prettiest shades of red, the cuteness of her spouse undeniably deadly- just like the poison that killed Fuku-Honbucho.. The white haired woman twitched as if her heart was pierced through ‘Too cute!!’ her mind raged as she fell on top of Y/n who wrapped their arms around their wife with a smile, it was rare for them to succeed in keeping their wild running cat wife home in the mornings like these.. · · · · · ·

The sheets shuffled softly as a sigh escaped parted lips, it felt so nice, maybe missing that sale wasn’t too bad? The sea of sharks would have to wait for another day, here in the safe heaven of her spouses arms, no sharks, dragons or wicked beasts and yakuza would get them. Gojo was sure of it, no one would dare to approach them if they wanted to live another day peacefully. She had stored up the worst cleaning tips for those people, surely oil and vinegar would clean this wine stain, right?

A wicked smile of mischief tugged on her pinkish lips, adorning her face so beautifully with the pearly whites despite the sweet tooth she had. One of the weaknesses the sheet demon of her spouse knew, and one she allowed them to use, because who wouldn’t want a strawberry shortcake when their spouse returns from a tiring day of work and still keeps on treating their closest? Y/n reached over tapping on Satoru’s bottom lip “Later.. there’s a sale on the seafood market.. Wanna go together?”

“I swear that out of all the people in the world, you’re the only one who knows who I truly am.” Gojo spoke with glimmering eyes as she turned her head to the h/c haired figure cuddled up to her side “Of course I do Satoru, My strongest butterfish sale hunter..” Their voice was like honey whispered in golden notes pulling just the right strings in Gojo’s heart. Y/n gently took their wives chin and pulled her into one of the loving morning kisses “I love you..” blue eyes stared right back into the e/c hues “I love you, as strong as I can- and that’s a lot~” “Oh shut up!-“

A fit of giggles filled the early morning air, the two tangled into each other in the most loving and gentle embraces, adoring their ideas, scheming against the sale foes, planning strategies to take over that one lady in flower store, she always seemed to grab the best white lilies that Gojo adored! This was just one of the many, Early Mornings the two shared in their adrenaline filled lives, full of challenges, whether they be at home dirt that doesn’t want to scrub off of the tiles or the store running out of their favorite mochi filling, as long as they were together, these moments were treasured..

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

@ryosmne​ @love-amihan @falling4fandoms​​ @sirthisisa-wendys ||if youd like to be added to the tag list, comment, send an ask or a dm :))

[owl-with-a-pen]

Brainy getting Kara a cat that looks like Streaky after she gets out of the Phantom Zone

- Cute! Of course! x

Adjusting to life back in National City had been far harder than Kara had anticipated.

Never was that more apparent than when she found herself alone.

Not that she’d been alone very much. Since her family had come to her rescue, Kara hadn’t really been permitted that much time to herself. Alex had been bringing over care packages that she and Kelly had put together almost three times daily, and that was only during the hours Kara was home. At work, it appeared it was Nia’s turn to play the role of overbearing minder. She’d been sticking to Kara’s side for just about every second of the workday. Kara thought it was kind of sweet, all things considered, it was just… Nia was about as subtle about it as a brick through the window - or Brainy when he’d turned up in CatCo’s elevator last year.

Speaking of Brainy, he was just about the only friend Kara hadn’t been seeing on a daily basis. Even Lena was making her rounds, trying to find any excuse to get Kara out of the apartment or – failing that – inviting herself over unprompted.

Kara appreciated everyone’s attention, she really did, but as she sat there on her couch, curled up in her comfiest cardigan and sweats combo on the first day off she’d had all week… she couldn’t help but feel some semblance of relief.

As much as she loved her family, she hated hurting them, and when her mask finally came crumbling down after days of keeping it plastered to her face, Kara knew that was exactly what she would have inadvertently caused.

Alex may have let her cry in her arms for a solid thirty minutes after she’d stumbled into J’onn’s Tower-turned-ship, and even seen her at her worst on the days that followed when she’d slept over for those first few terrifying nights… but Kara couldn’t bear to let her sister hold onto that weight for longer than it felt necessary. She was Supergirl, the hero National City looked up to, that even her friends looked up to, and she hated causing any of them the same kind of heartache that they’d felt in her absence.

So, yes, maybe the stillness of her apartment was kind of stifling. Maybe every shadow that jutted across her walls reminded her of the Phantoms that had loomed overhead in that awful alien dimension, but at least when she was alone, jumping at something so fiercely she scorched a wall, or grabbing a pillow so hard it exploded into feathers in her hands could be hidden from any prying eyes.

She would get through this eventually. She just needed time to sort out her head, to focus on the positives, to…

Kara was thrown from her thoughts somewhat abruptly when she heard three quick knocks at her apartment door.

She frowned, lowering the TV’s volume as she heaved herself from the blanket and pillow nest she’d made at the couch corner. She padded over to the door curiously, relaxing into her heightened sense of hearing just enough to pick up on two distinct heartbeats on the other side. Although, one was… far less human in nature than she had expected, which certainly raised a big question.

When she opened the door to find Brainy holding a cat out to her much in the same way someone might offer flowers, she got her answer.

The cat, at least, seemed perfectly content to hang from Brainy’s outstretched hands, its back legs kicked up towards her, large amber eyes wide and unblinking.

It opened its mouth to yawn, as though it had grown used – if not bored – to this kind of behaviour.

“Hey Brainy,” Kara said, her eyes about as wide as the cat’s. “Um, what’s going on?”

“I brought you a gift!” Brainy announced, lifting the cat higher as though to emphasise his point. The cat, to its credit, didn’t appear to find this perplexing at all.

That made one person, at least.

Kara blinked in stunned silence, rubbing at the side of her head. “You got me a cat?” she asked, posing the question in a half joking manner. When Brainy’s eager smile only widened, realisation finally set in. Kara’s mouth fell open. “Wait. You got me a cat?”

“Indeed,” Brainy said enthusiastically, striding past Kara into the room, cat in tow.

Kara could only stare at the space he’d left behind. She shook her head, quickly turning towards him. “Why…?”

Brainy brought the cat closer to his chest, almost contemplatively, though he continued to hold it at that same awkward angle.

The cat licked its nose in disgruntled acceptance.

“Well, since you asked,” Brainy began, “I have been studying… both the medical and psychological benefits of having pets recently. Cats offer companionship, but did you also know that their purrs have curative properties, and petting them has been proven to work against stress and anxiety?” Brainy’s expression turned serious suddenly and he swivelled towards her, thrusting the cat out at her with not even a word of warning. “With that in mind, I present to you, Streaky 2.0!”

Kara reached for the cat instinctively, hastily taking it beneath the shoulders before transferring it into her own arms. Old habit kicked in almost immediately, and she found herself pulling the cat towards her shoulder with all the gentleness she’d put into practice holding this particular cat’s namesake. The cat sagged into her arms in seconds, kicking up a fuss as its whiskers tickled curiously beneath her chin.

“Streaky two point-” Kara began, only to be interrupted when the cat began to purr in soft breathy beats against her chest. Its damp nose probed her neck, tracking her scent. “Oh… oh.” Animals had always seemed to take a liking to Kara, that was true, but this was strange even for her.

Kara squinted at Brainy suspiciously. “This is a real cat, right?”

Brainy scoffed. “Why, do you think I would build one?” His eyebrows drew together suddenly, a deadly serious expression. “I did consider it. A cat as indestructible as Supergirl would be an incredible feat of science. But, no. This is a regular cat. I retrieved him from a shelter.” He leaned in, nearly conspiratorially. “Would you like to see the adoption paperwork?”

Kara snorted. “Y’know, I think I’ll take your word for it.” Her smile sobered as the cat continued to purr up a storm in her arms, closing his eyes into a half squint in total feline bliss. “You really got him for me?”

“Of course.” Brainy softened suddenly, folding his arms. He bit his lip, as though searching for the right words. After a moment’s consideration, he smiled awkwardly. “You were… in pain. Struggling with life back from the Phantom Zone. Additionally,” he gestured bluntly around the room, “you currently live alone.”

Kara laughed bleakly. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“What I mean to say,” Brainy hastened, “is that cats make people happy, and Streaky made you very happy. You felt more grounded learning to care for him, however, I believe this time it is time for your companion to take care of you.” When Brainy smiled again, it was far more relaxed. “I spent many days at the shelter making note of every cat’s characteristics, vocal patterns, requirements of other’s attention, and this cat surpassed all of my expectations.” He nodded succinctly. “He is loyal, I am certain of that.”

Kara grinned. “Well, he certainly let you carry him around like a crazy person.”

“Nia tells me cats are resilient creatures,” Brainy said with a shrug, “this one especially so. I think he will make an excellent fit.”

Kara’s smile widened further. “Brainy… this is incredibly sweet. I don’t know what to-” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t have any supplies.”

“Fear not!” Brainy said, finger raised. “I have come prepared with the basics, although I am sure you would prefer to personalise your pet’s belongings in the long term.”

Kara rolled her eyes. Of course Brainy would have come bearing all the necessities for pet care. He was never one to do anything inefficiently. She pressed her lips into the cat’s warm fur, just between his ears. He was a little softer than her old Streaky, although she liked those small differences. It made this cat symbolise more to her than just the nostalgia she knew Brainy was hoping to achieve, but also the sense of a new beginning.

In truth, Kara hadn’t been considering getting a pet any time soon, not when she had so little time even for herself. As Supergirl, it felt wrong, somehow, to have another living thing rely on her as its sole care giver.

But, Brainy was right. Cats had always been her soft spot, and this one already felt like it was healing something deep inside of her, stitching an old wound that wasn’t even visible on the surface. Maybe having a pet around wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, especially when this cat was as perfect as Brainy had insinuated.

Besides, it got awfully lonely here at night…

Kara glanced up at Brainy suddenly. “Wait, is this why you haven’t been around the last few days? You were out scouting for the perfect cat?”

Brainy grimaced. “Busted.”

Kara laughed, she couldn’t help it. Brainy might have changed a lot over the last few months, but he was still as candid as he’d ever been, maybe now even more-so without all the secrets he’d had weighing him down.

She knew, deep down, that a part of her had changed, too. And maybe, maybe it was time she let down some of her walls, enough that she could let her family see her for every change the Phantom Zone had brought on – good or bad.

And, Brainy? Well, he seemed like the perfect start. After all, there was so much more she wanted to learn about him, too.

So, with Streaky 2.0 still snuggled contently in her arms, Kara smiled, taking Brainy’s arm with her free hand. “I think you’re right. I do want to personalise my pet supplies." She brightened. "Hey, maybe we can go to the pet store tomorrow!”

“But, I was just there,” Brainy pointed out.

Kara rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you put in the study-time. You know this cat better than I do, right now. I’m gonna need your expertise to find the best stuff to truly pamper him. Besides,” Kara squeezed his arm, “I want to spend some time with my friend.”

When Brainy’s eyes sparked and he grinned his affirmation, Kara was so, so grateful to see it.

“Very well, then,” Brainy agreed. “Tomorrow it is!”

[choco-glow]

Day of the Dead (Robin)

April 27th.

The bed shifted, creaked as Bruce dragged himself up out of the comfort of his way too expensive (and totally worth it) mattress, followed reluctantly by an equally exhausted Selina. He insisted she use the bathroom first, taking that time to rub his face and scalp, forcing himself into an alertness that he didn’t feel…and Bruce ignored his constantly buzzing phone. He could hear Alfred puttering around in his own room down the hall, Damian’s near silent footsteps alongside his dog’s as the youngest Wayne limped down to let Titus out. Tim…Bruce sighed, knowing that Tim one of two places; passed out in the chair in front of the computer down in the cave, or passed out on the couch in the library, his laptop on the floor.

Either way, he was sleeping, most likely, and Bruce was going to take advantage of that.

“Hey.” He glanced up, and the smile on his lips was small, but real; she looked so good leaning against the doorway in nothing but her underwear and one of his old band tees, tousled hair sticking to her forehead from her shower, a sweet smile on her face, those familiar green-blue eyes always so dark in the morning. Bruce dragged himself upright to wrap her up in his arms, hugging her tight, and Selina melted against him, nuzzling his cheek. “Bruce…”

“Thank you for staying…” He murmured, gratitude thick in his voice, and she patted his bicep, popping up on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go wash up and get dressed, I’ll head down and help Alfred with breakfast?”

“Selina, you don’t have to…” She shook her head, chuckling, and he chuckled back, ignoring his impulse to just turn away and go brood. Brooding wouldn’t help today…

“I want to. I know what today is…and why it’s so hard.” He ducked his head, swallowing his next word, and she cupped his cheek. “Bruce. I mean it. Jason…” He lifted his head, blue eyes tired but crinkled from a weary smile.

“I miss him.”

“I do too. Go on. We’ll be waiting for you.” He nodded, and after a lingering kiss, despite Cat’s aversion to morning breath, Bruce let her go. The shower was hot enough to wash away some of the pain from his shoulder and upper back, and after washing up, he carefully redressed the bandage on his thigh, then pulled on a pair of old jeans and a tee shirt. It was Saturday, thankfully, so Bruce didn’t have to worry about a suit, and making his way down the stairs, he was glad to see visitors…especially these visitors.

Four years…four years, he’s been gone now. His heart twinged, but Bruce didn’t have to hold up a mask around Dick, who hugged him tight as soon as his first Robin saw him, nor around Barb, who he knelt to hug as well. Steph looked a little lost, a little nervous to be here, and Bruce hugged her too, whispering thanks to her as he’d done to the rest, and if Steph hugged his waist a little harder, her voice a little thick…well, Bruce wasn’t going to tell.

“Father, Alfred the cat is most worried about you.” Bruce paused as he set Steph back on her feet, turning to face Damian, who was holding his purring tuxedo cat and looking concerned…and Bruce couldn’t help the tiny, choked sob, because Damian looked so much like Jason at that age, his whole being focused on “comfort father”.

“So I see. May I hold him?” Damian nodded, and Bruce gently took the cat, smiling as Alfred bumped noses with him and settled on his shoulder, purring deeper still. “Thank you, Damian…”

“This is an auspicious day; we need all the comfort we can receive…” He murmured, and Bruce hugged his youngest tight, tears spilling over now…and Damian hugged him back, clinging to him tight.

“That’s…that’s true…c’mon everyone, we better get into the kitchen before Alfred the butler and Selina yell at us.” He murmured, and Dick chuckled while Barb smiled and took the lead. Damian pulled away from the hug, but not from Bruce, and they walked in hand in hand, taking comfort from one another. Jason’s photo, the last one taken two weeks before he died, was sitting on the counter, as always, with a candle lit…and the new addition of a tin can with the label meticulously soaked off, full of dandelions, and Bruce paused by it, lips twitching up in a fond smile.

“Master Bruce, I hope you don’t mind…I wanted…well…I remember Jason making those bouquets for us when he was a child…” Alfred murmured, and Bruce just pulled him into a hug, tears running hot down his cheeks now.

“I can’t think of a better thing…It’s perfect. Best bunch of flowers that’s ever entered this house.” They all shared a laugh at that, though Selina, Steph, and Damian looked a little confused, and it was Dick who explained, his voice warm and fond as he remembered all the times Jason would prowl the Wayne grounds, plucking dandelions and purple clovers, filling an old coffee can or tin can full to the brim and bringing them back to the house to share, his smile bright and happy.

“…At first, we offered him the flowers from the garden, and Jason just shook his head, looking scared, and said that he got in trouble for pulling those. No one cared about the wildflowers.”

“Oh, what a sweetheart…” Selina breathed, and Bruce and Alfred settled at the table at last, which prompted Dick to pass them the plate of pancakes and motion to fill up.

“He really was…c’mon, let’s eat, best way to remember our boy.”

“Here here! And whatever we do, avoid Buzzfeed today.” Barb raised her OJ in a toast, and Bruce closed his eyes with a sigh.

“God, I hate Buzzfeed…”

“Same here, old man. Same here.”

—-

Six months I’ve been back, and not a Bat to bother me. Jason settled in for a quiet Saturday morning, and ignored cable for a change; he knew what was going to be all over the news today, and he, for one, didn’t want to hear yet another poignant portrayal of his death. At least Bruce wouldn’t be out in public today; he’d learned that from running through the old news stories from the last few years, and frankly, Jason was grateful for it. It…meant that Bruce at least care enough to mourn him. Even if the goddamn Joker is still alive…

He sighed, and pushed away the anger he still felt at that fact, and pulled out his guns, then pulled up YouTube on his TV. He scrolled through his usual recommended list, feeling…restless and a little out of his element; it was the first death day he’d spent back in Gotham, and his normal goofy favorites just…weren’t going to cut it. Then he saw the one video he didn’t expect to see.

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Jason Todd, Wayne or Robin?

A grin split his face.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

—-

“Welcome to Buzzfeed Unsolved. I’m Ryan Bergera, and this is Shane Madej. Today, we are covering the mysterious deaths of two important people in the deadly metropolis that is Gotham City…or are we?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jason Todd Wayne, the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and the second Boy Wonder, Robin, both of whom disappeared the same day, April 27th…and have never been heard from again.”

“Ryan, you said it was one murder!”

“And therein lays our mystery, because the more you hear details of the case, the more you wonder if these two boys were really the same person.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…I smell a conspiracy!”

“Shane, you smell lunch.”

“And a conspiracy! C’mon, out with details, gimme something, Bergera.”

“Hold your freakin’ horses, dude, lemme go over things…” Jason watched with unconcealed delight as he disassembled his pistol, cleaning each part as Ryan laid out the admittedly sparse facts of the case; of course, Jason knew the truth, but he was frankly somewhat impressed with the story that Bruce and Alfred had concocted. Of course, they couldn’t say the Joker beat him to death with a crowbar and blew up a building on him ( and even Bruce couldn’t have guessed that Talia al Ghul had stolen his corpse from the morgue, gave them an equally beaten dead kid to bury, and dumped his ass in the Lazarus Pit). But the story of Jason being killed as a hit out on the Wayne family was all too likely.

Batman had a lot of enemies.

Bruce Wayne had a lot more.

“No one was ever charged for Jason’s murder…here’s the last video of the press conference where Bruce explains things.”

“…Jesus, he’s barely keeping it together…I know he’s a billionaire, but he’s got a lot of heart…poor guy…”

“Yeah…I know we tend to fuck around on this channel, but…this kid died. Pretty badly, from what the evidence shows.”

“Man…so, you said there were theories, right?”

“Yeah, and they only get worse from here.”

“Well, we started the program with a dead kid; can’t get any worse than that.” Jason paused the video and just…stared at Bruce’s face, the tears on his cheeks, his exhausted appearance…and sighed a little.

“Sorry Dad…”

—-

“Theory number one: Dick Grayson killed Jason Todd out of jealousy. It was rumored that the brothers didn't get along and Dick and his father didn't have a good relationship when Jason came to the household.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at that one; whoever thought up that crock of shit had another thing coming. Sure, he and Dick had bickered like brothers, but at the end of the day, Dick was his brother from another mother. Even now, even with everything that had happened…Jason missed those hugs something fierce.

“I mean, that’s a pretty cut and dry one…”

“So it would seem…but if you look at the interviews, there’s nothing in Dick’s demeanor that shows any resentment or anger. And both Jason and Dick were orphaned at early ages and adopted by Bruce, so…”

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s cut and dry, but…at the same time, it doesn’t really make sense.”

“Especially given that Dick every year celebrates Jason’s birthday; I mean, killers can be weird, we know that from the last several seasons, but…I dunno. It doesn’t really fit.”

“Probably some asshole detective looking to close it up.”

“Probably…”

“On to number two!”

—-

“Bruce Wayne killed Jason Todd. This was, actually, the first big conspiracy theory to hit the web. Thankfully, it quickly died when people saw just how devastated Bruce was for months after his death, but apparently there are still some trolls on public forums who accuse Bruce Wayne of killing his son.”

“…That’s utter bullshit. Fuckers.”

“Right there with ya, buddy. Right there with ya. Onto three?”

“Please.”

—-

“Jason isn't dead, because of sightings of a homeless boy who wandered all around Crime Alley and looked exactly like Jason Todd. He was completely battered and bruised and suddenly disappeared after a year in the streets, likely due to a trafficking ring.” Jason raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his AK, Shane and Ryan’s incredulousness a comfort. He wasn’t sure why he was still watching this, but…it was kinda nice. Nice to have people be pissed off for his sake.

“Jesus Christ, Gotham, y’all are so dark.”

“May be why their superhero is Batman, dude.”

“STILL. Could this one have some merit, though, since he was an orphan?”

“This one is one of the strongest theories to date, because Jason was from a place called the Narrows, not far from Crime Alley, and according to Wayne Enterprises official documentation in their family museum, Jason had had issues with drugs and abuse, though to what extent, only the family knows. It’s a pretty ugly idea, but…it’s possible.”

“I think I’d rather be dead, Ryan, than go through that.”

“Same. Same…”

—

“Now. We move onto the disappearance of the second Robin, who vanished the same day that Jason Todd supposedly died. Possible theories of the disappearance of the second boy wonder—”

“Ryan. Ryan. Buddy. Champ. Are you implying, really, that Jason and Robin are the same kid?!”

“I’m just reading the script!”

“You wrote the script!”

“…I may be implying that they’re the same, yes.”

“I KNEW IT.”

“You don’t know shit.” Jason started laughing, and paused to get himself a fresh beer, ordering pizza while he was at it. Alright, this wasn’t so bad after all…

—

“He is hiding. Some say he hid from Batman, and some say Batman is hiding him from others. They don't know what, though. Some even say he quit the job.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, who’s ‘some’.”

“Paparazzi, conspiracy theorists, Alex Jones, etc…”

“Ah yes. The enlightened crowd.”

“Pftt…This is the weakest one, so we’ll go ahead and lay out the second theory while we’re at it. The second Robin died. After Robin stopped appearing with batman for an entire year, the same time Jason Todd died. This used to be a widely spread theory, until people realized maybe talking about the death of a boy in a terrorist attack for a conspiracy theory after his father broke down in public isn't the nicest thing to do.”

“And this is your theory.”

“This…is the strongest one I think, and the one that has the most emotional punch. But let’s be real; if the second Robin was indeed Jason Todd, then his Batman HAS to be Bruce Wayne. And c’mon. We’ve all seen the nightmare surrounding THAT theory.”

“Uh, yeah. No thanks, I do not ever need to write another “But the butts don’t match” article ever again in my life.” Jason snorted at that, cracking up laughing, and when he googled “The Butts don’t match”, he had to pause his boys because the ensuing hyena laugh had him flat on his back for ten minutes, absolutely losing his shit.

“Oh Christ, I love the internet…”

—-

“Next theory. He’s a kid, he took a break from vigilante-ing to do something else.”

“Now see, I like this one; that’s like, the most wholesome version. I hope this is the real one, but…”

“I know, man. I know.”

“Sigh.”

“Sigh.”

—-

“Almost there. Some people believe the second and the third Robin are the same, although many people disagree, considering witness reports that they looked very different, and the Robins were very distinctive in their fighting style and personalities.” Jason snorted at that, shoveling a slice of pizza into his gullet, and even the boys were looking a bit annoyed at that theory, Shane more than Ryan.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“How the hell do they know about fighting styles?!”

“Gotham City Police.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense now.”

“Also, apparently Commissioner Gordon likes the third Robin more, which tells me they’re definitely not the same.”

“Yeah, if anyone other than Batman would know, he would. What’s next?”

“This one is kinda great, but also a bit outrageous.”

“Ooooh, juicy. Spill the beans, Bergera!”

—-

“Some even believe that the second Robin is now the infamous Red Hood. Gothamites have been known to try to stalk the dude but it's never successful, and supposedly, even the Batfam won’t bother him.”

“I mean, that’s a cool story, but how true is it?”

“Considering the guy wears a red freakin’ helmet with eyeholes and no mouth, who knows how true it is?”

“Still a nicer story than the butts. And hey, Red Hood is pretty chill, man, I think he’s probably the best thing to hit Gotham in years.”

“You’re a Hoodie!”

“The fuck is a ‘Hoodie?”

“Red Hood groupie.”

“Uh, hell no, I just think he’s cool.”

“Uh huh…Well, folks, that ties up our deep dive into the murder of Jason Todd, and the disappearance of the second Robin. To date, this case remains…Unsolved.” As the quiet music that ushered in the ending screen and credits, Jason sat back, working his second slice of pizza, and chuckled a little to himself. If only they knew…well. His people knew who he was; old man Falcone figured it out the second day Jason had been home. The Narrows had welcomed their boy back…And they weren’t gonna tell anyone. They didn’t trust Gothamites, they didn’t trust the Bats…which was why Jason had carved out his place here again, with gunfire and brutal justice. They trusted him.

He turned YouTube over to something mindless, and padded over to the window, feeling the sunshine, weak though it was, break through the clouds and warm his skin. Jason leaned against the familiar brick, and opened the window, letting in a rush of cool air, reminiscent of spring.

It was good to be home.

[thecheesiestcheese23]

a place that feels like home.

Trust was not so easily given, and Philza Minceraft knew this.

Hell, he raised four children that held their own trust issues. He spent years cracking away at them for them to finally feel safe enough to sleep in the same room with him and to turn their backs to him.

So why did he throw away the bond with two, kill the other, but live with the fourth? He knew very well why he did, he played favorites. He didn’t try to of course, but there was just something about Techno that drew Phil to be with him more than the others. Maybe it was the saying that 'Technoblade Never Dies' that he could relate to as ‘The Angel of Death’. Perhaps it was how their childhoods were so similar, where they were taken away from their families and thrown into The Pit, an illegal fight club that wanted to watch blood spill. The most likely thing though, was that they were both fighters.

Wilbur was never a fighter while he lived under Phil's roof, always wanting to hold a pen to write stories than to pick up a sword to spill blood. He was a lovely singer too and could spin melodies from simply plucking the strings of a guitar. Even when he left to make a country and was thrust into an unjust war, he refused to raise his bow unless it was dire.

It was only when his sanity started to deteriorate did he start to raise his sword instead of his guitar. And when Phil heard the words of "Kill me Phil -" after he blew up his own country that he shredded blood, sweat, and tears for, did he know his son was truly gone, replaced with this shell of a human.

Tubbo was like a bluebird; innocent and a hard-worker.

Like Wilbur, he never wanted to harm anyone, which was different from his birth father, Schlatt. He would rather spend his time with the bees in the backyard and play with his bee plushie that he was left with in  the box. He loved to spend time in the garden and nurture the flowers that grew alongside the food.

Tommy was a different case from the other two. While yes, he was a fighter, and a feisty one, he wasn’t the best. He was always so brash and loud, letting the enemy know he was coming from miles away. Techno was much more reserved and quiet and was deadly and to the point in his attacks. Phil saw him at the wars though, and he saw how much his youngest grew in his fighting.

Phil knew that he was too young to be thrust into these wars, too young to have met the face of Death multiple times by now, and too young to have been betrayed by nearly everyone he knew.

But, Phil sighed, there was nothing he could do about it now. The bonds he once had were shattered beyond repair and the three probably hated him by now. The only thing he could do now was to ask Ranboo if he needed a place to stay.

He had given Ranboo one of his feathers days after Techno’s execution, a way of communication that wasn’t able to be tracked by Dream. Phil had seen how the boy had been unwilling to pull the lever and was even hesitant to place Phil under house arrest.

He quickly searched through his satchel looking for the feather that was the main cell. Once he did, he quickly double-tapped the circle that rested at the top and scrolled through the contacts list. There were people from the Antarctic Empire, Ranboo, and then there was his family, Tubbo, Tommy, Fundy, Wilbur, and Techno.

Phil could only hope that Ranboo hadn’t left the feather in his house as the explosions fell down into what once was L’manburg.

With tense shoulders, he pressed the call button.

---

The dripping of water was the only thing that could be heard within the obsidian room beside the shaky breaths of a curled figure who was in one of the back corners.

A cat, Enderchest, meowed, disrupting the silence and rubbing against the leg of their owner in an attempt of comfort. Ranboo could only stare at his memory book as the feather in his hand hovered over the names of the people who were once his friends.

“I . . . I don’t have anyone left . . .” The book was shut with a slam, the title shinning against the lighting that the crying obsidian gave off.

“But,” a shaky sigh escaped through his lips. “I can’t forget them, otherwise I’m just giving up, and if I give up. . .” He stood abruptly which only succeeded in him collapsing down once more due to his unsteady legs.

“Then I’m just weak.”

The feather in his hand crackled to life, startling him before a familiar voice could be heard echoing around the small room. “Hey, Ranboo!”

“Hi, Phil.” The unshed tears in his eyes shone brighter as his voice wavered.

“Did you make it out okay?” Phil sounded concerned for him, for some reason that Ranboo could not fathom.

“Yeah, I’m still alive.” The smell of smoke was strong, even when he was far away from L’manburg. Some part of Ranboo’s mind wondered how long it would last.

“Good, good, where are you right now?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna be in L’manburg soon.” All Ranboo needed to do now was to pull himself out of this funk.

“Okay, good.” The rustling of a wing could be heard. “Do you need a place to stay or are you good?” Ranboo was caught off-guard by this question as images of his destroyed home flashed through his head.

“I- I think I do need a place to stay.” Ranboo sheepishly admitted, pulling himself up from the floor and balancing himself.

“Yeah? What’s been going on with you, by the way? ‘Cause like, we haven’t spoken in a bit, and I- I know that book was very precious to you, but I- I didn’t know exactly why.”

“Oh, it uh, keeps who my friends are in it, so I don’t forget, cause you know I have very bad memory issues.” His armor was put back on in a couple of seconds and he traveled back outside. “So, uh, I keep all of my friendships in the book, which is - has, changed quite a bit from today so I might need to update it.” The Panic Room was covered up once more. “I’ll be in L’manburg in a second- or what used to be. I’ll be in the big hole in a second.”

“I can get there, I can get there. Give me time, give me time.”

Silence fell between the two as they both traveled to the same destination and Ranboo wondered who was going to be the one to break it.

“So where did you go? Were you still around? ‘Cause it was hectic.”

“Yeah, I had a wither chasing me the entire time, so I kinda couldn’t just leave.”

A sharp intake of breath. “Yeah, sorry about that-”

“Oh, it’s okay-” Laughter could be heard from the two males.

“Are you in L’manburg now, by the way?” Phil asked.

Ranboo looked around, confirming his whereabouts. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m next to the staircase that leads up to the Prime Path.”

“Alright, let me see if I can aim this. It might be off though.” A whoosh of the trident, ad Phil was standing right in front of him, his damaged wing tucked safely against his back. Ranboo hadn’t heard the full story, but from the information he gathered, one of his wings was singed beyond repair and was just dead weight on his back from protecting Wilbur from the heat of the blast. “Oh, this staircase has seen better days.”

That elicited a chuckle out of the taller male. “A lot of this place has seen better days, in case you didn’t realize.” They traversed up the pathway, twisting and turning through the multitude of wooden slabs beneath their feet.

“It’s fine, we needed a change. It had to be done.” Phil waved it off.

“Yeah, actually. I kind of understand why.”

“You got everything you need?” Ranboo skimmed through his inventory.

“Yeah, actually. I had all of my mending books in a secret barrel in my house but I guess I’m not getting those.” Ranboo grimaced at the thought.

They conversed for a while longer, traveling through the Nether before arriving at and entering into Techno’s and Phil’s home.

“Yeah, so you can stay here until we can start working on your house.” Phil gestured to the couch. “I was thinking of building it next to the mountain that’s behind the house, so it would be somewhat ingrained into the mountain but not fully.”

Ranboo could only just nod, not able to fully express his gratitude besides a simple “Thank you.”

Phil smiled at Ranboo. “It’s not a problem mate. It’s the least I could do after destroying your only house. Get some rest, yeah? I should also tell Techno you’re here so he won’t immediately kill you as soon as he sees you.”

Ranboo chuckled nervously. “Oh yeah, that sounds good.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get going, you’ll be okay on your own, right?” Phil stopped his shuffling to look at Ranboo, and to his relief, avoided eye contact. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you, again.” Ranboo shited where he stood, opting to stare at the floor.

“As I’ve said before, it’s not a problem mate. I’ll be out for a while, and Techno should be back before I will, bye Ranboo!”

“Bye Phil!”

---

Techno trudged into his house, closing the door behind him before he collapsed against it, the roughed up edges of his armor digging into the wood. His sword rested limply in his hand as he let his body relax. He would definitely have to wash his sword from the blood that stained it.

He pushed away from the door with a groan. The satchels of potions landed on the floors and counters with a thump. He looked around before he spotted a lump laying down on the couch. Techno immediately tensed up, the grip on his blade tightening.

He swiftly but silently went over, his guard never slipping. His sword was raised, ready to be brought down on the intruder, but Techno then saw his face.

It was Ranboo, the kid that Phil had a soft spot for. He blinked a few times before he checked the feather that was clasped to a gold chain and that hung around his neck. He scrolled through a couple of messages, seeing some from Ghostbur, spam from Tommy, and one from both Fundy and Phil.

He clicked on the notification and read what laid before him.

<Ph1lZa whispered to you: I’m letting Ranboo stay with us for the next few days until we can get a new house built for him. I hope that isn’t too much of a hassle. Talk to you soon Tech!>

Techno huffed in response, but put down his sword and slid it back into it’s seath. The feather was then nestled back to where it once was before, and as he was doing that, Techno saw that Ranboo was shivering.

The couch could barely hold him and the blankets he had didn’t seem to be doing much for him. Techno grumbled as he made up his decision. He swiftly picked Ranboo up and brought him up the ladder, careful not to awaken him or disturb him as they made the trip upstairs.

Ranboo was softly placed on the older’s bed, the red cloak that once rested upon Techno’s shoulders was instead acting as a makesift blanket for the taller.

E

Technosoft!

/rainbowchat

Caringblade

Technosoft

mic muted!

Technosoft

Technosoft

E

E

Technosoft

Technosoft

“Shut up Chat, I am not going soft for this kid.” Techno grumbled.

E

Throw him out! He’s only gonna hurt us like Tommy did!

Tsundereblade!

Tsundereblade!

Blood!

Techno only sighed in response before he went back downstairs, ignoring Chat as he headed over to the couch and placed his sword next to him.

“Goodnight Chat.”

Night!

Gnight!

goodnight !

E

Techno shut his eyes, and let his body rest.

[flyingkiki]

The Screaming Bunny, 3/?

Deep down, we know that Tim has all these secret fantasies.

Here you go guys, enjoy our curious little Timmy!

~

Despite the initial crowd out in the bar of the club, the Screaming Bunny’s inner halls and chambers were sparsely packed with people. It seemed that most of the Halloween revelers were out in front enjoying the bar. The hallways that lead to chambers and bigger halls were dimly lit, illuminated by lights that reminded Tim of the color of the sea. Muted ambient music filled the halls along with whispers of secrets behind closed steel bars and the occasional cracking of a whip or a rough demand. The deeper they went into the club, the thicker the atmosphere seemed.

The more secrets the club held for him to discover. He wondered how many secrets he could uncover from Raven. Tim swallowed at the thought.

They were walking through one of the many halls in the club with Raven leading him past closed doors. He could hear faint movement behind the doors. Tim tried not to allow his mind to wander and instead focused on Raven, watching her move just a little ahead of him. He tried to ignore the curious thrill that ran down his spine when for a brief moment his gaze dropped down to the sway of her hips before quickly back up to her shoulders.

When they reached the end of the hall, Raven stopped and turned around to face him. There was that amused little smile playing on her lips again, and Tim silently marveled how different this Raven was from the deadly Titan he’d see out in battle.

“Do you have any fantasies?”

Tim blinked at her, feeling a heat rise to his face and his chest tighten all of the sudden. He swallowed thickly as he watched her tilt her head curiously at him and casually leaned against the grey wall with her shoulder. “Sorry, what?” Tim asked and chuckled nervously.

Raven looked like she was trying to hold off her amusement as the corners of her lips twitched. She seemed to enjoy his moment of discomfort. Crossing her arms casually, she pointedly looked at one of the doors they were standing next to. “These rooms are private rooms couples can book for scene play,” she said.

Tim glanced at the nondescript door before turning back to an amused Raven. “Oh,” he breathed lamely. A middle-aged couple, one dressed as a cop, walked past them. He heard the door behind him open and close soundly. Swallowing, Raven caught his gaze and her lips curled into a smile. He knew that she was enjoying how his composure would falter at times.

His curiosity piqued at her delight.

“They’re designed to suit whatever fantasy you’d like to have,” Raven continued. Leaning over and just into his personal space, she grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. It swung open and Tim half expected a couple to be mid-way having sex or flagellating or something. It revealed a doctor’s examination room, very white and sterile, save for the little pink flower that sat on the doctor’s table. An examination bed was tucked into the corner of the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary – save for the black straps, red bondage rope, and a few harnesses that hung from the wall.

“It’s a med room,” said Raven as they peaked into the room. Tim watched her scan the room before his own gaze swept through the room again. “It’s for those who like to play med scenes. Patients, doctors, nurses, check-ups,” she continued with a shrug.

There was brief image of Raven in a nurse’s costume and Tim had to squash that image as quickly as it appeared. Raven seemed to have caught on the spike of emotions because she tilted her head in his direction curiously. “Is that something you’re interested in?” she asked innocently, a playful lilt in her voice.

Was it? Tim chuckled and leaned into the doorframe. “I’m honestly not sure,” he said. There was a whisper of an image that played in his mind but he respectfully ignored it. Blinking, he curiously eyed her. “Are you?”

Raven released a breathy laugh, a sound Tim was desperate to hear more of. She leaned into the room and closed the door. “No, not really,” she admitted.

“So what is?” he asked before he could think that maybe too much prodding was impolite. But then again, they were in an exclusive BDSM club in Gotham, maybe his level of curiosity was allowed.

Raven hummed and looked unfazed at his prodding. Instead she shrugged, an air of mystery around her. “C’mon,” she said and turned on her strappy heels. He followed her out of the hall and they stepped into a large-sized, dimly lit atrium.

It was one of the many pleasure chambers, dungeons if you will, of the Screaming Bunny. Tim schooled his face as the stepped closer to the ledge of the second floor landing and looked down at the different activities, furniture, and contraptions that filled the hall. A few spectators were around the ledge of the second floor, watching as scenes unfolded on the by the Saint Andrew’s Cross and the bondage couch. There was a masked man in one of the standup cages in the corner of the room and a woman strapped to a bondage bench.

A sharp clap of a riding crop hitting skin rang through the air, followed by a soft whimper and a sharp teasing command. Tim stared as the red headed woman, dressed in a tight fitting black cat-suit similar to Selina’s, wielded her riding crop sharply down on the blindfolded man’s thigh strapped in the bondage couch. He lightly jolted at the sound of leather hitting flesh but listened curiously at the soft whimper of pleasure that followed. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Raven lean over the metal railing and drink in the sight below them. He followed her suit with a soft thrill running down his spine and curiously catalogued everything to memory.

They could see Lady X and Tracy by the Saint Andrew’s Cross. They were in the middle of scene with Lady X sharply working a small whip across Tracy’s back and thighs. There were harsh whispered commands that Tim could barely make out, but he was captured by the sight. The room was silent, except for some hushed whispers and the scenes between doms and subs. Spectators kept their distance, watching from the second floor landing or some few feet away on the dungeon floor. The air was thick with a myriad of emotions and Tim was stunned at the level of trust in the room.

“C’mon,” Raven announced suddenly, voice just a little lower. She tilted towards another hallway and pushed herself away from the railing. Tim nodded and after one final glance at the scenes below them, he followed her silently down a new hallway.

They passed a few people, curiously dressed in the most intricate Halloween costumes Tim had ever seen. They soon entered a new dungeon, smaller this time and without a second floor landing. A bondage stage was in the center of the room with a few stockade and bondage horse set-ups on the side. Three people were using the black padded bondage stage with two women taking turns in dripping candle wax and running feathers over the bound man on the stage.

Tim watched captured at the scene of complete surrender. He swallowed as a stray thought crossed his mind and he absently looked at Raven, who seemed completely enraptured by the scene. Her eyes were bright and her lips were curled into a small smile. He watched briefly as the dim lights danced across her cheek bones and disappeared into the hallows of her neck. He forgot how much a stunning sight Raven was.

Noticing that he was staring, Raven turned her attention to him. A small faint blush on her cheeks and she blinked. “You good?” she asked.

Tim nodded. “Yeah,”

Raven watched him nod and his eyes briefly flittered back to the scene in front of them as a soft groan filled the air. His gaze settled at the scene before looking at the other bondage furniture in the room. Raven started walking away from him and into the room, keeping a respectable distance away from the scene and instead leading him towards some of the other available furniture. He curiously followed her, watching as she absently ran her hand along the length of bondage horse. He watched the movement as ringed fingers danced over one metal hoop attachment point. Her movement stalled as her index finger looped through the silver hoop and Tim watched her give the hoop an absent tug.

“Did you want to try something out?”

Tim felt his heart leap into his throat and he faltered in his step as he quickly looked up from her index finger to her steady gaze. She blinked and sent him a soft smile over the large leather bondage horse. Her gaze was genuine, not teasing, and her tone held no lilt. It was soft and kind. The corner of her red lips lifted just a little more as she held his surprised gaze.

“Did I want--” Tim breathed, stumbled over his words. It was embarrassing how much he stumbled and floundered tonight, not very much like the intellectual boardroom WE CEO he was known for. He could hear the soft gasp of the sub behind them through the loud sound of his heart beating in his ears. Did he want to?

Raven released the hoop and stepped away from the bondage horse. Her heels clicked loudly against the black marbled floor with each step she took. Smiling at Tim, she tilted her head towards yet another dimly lit hallway down the room. “C’mon,” she said.

He followed her again silently and tried to ignore the thrill that ran down his spine again. As they seemed to get deeper into the club, the crowd had trickled out and the music became more muted. He watched as the violet lights danced across Raven’s back and slide over precise muscle. Tim tried to still his beating heart as curiosity, anxiety, and excitement gnawed at his nerves.

“Is this room free?” Raven asked one of the Dungeon Monitors who hung out in front of the doors. At the woman’s nod, Raven thanked her and turned to open the large steel door. Turning over her shoulder, she nodded at the open door. “C’mon,”

Tim inhaled deeply as he stepped into large room filled with numerous bondage furniture and contraptions. A large leather swing hung in one corner of the room, ropes were neatly rolled up on an intricate black armoire lined next to dildos, electrodes, and other contraptions. A Saint Andrew’s Cross stood prominently in the center with a bondage couch behind it and a dungeon bed with chains and leather straps pressed against the wall. There was a myriad of contraptions, leather, wood, chains, and steel. Tim released a breath as he tried to take in the sight and steady his beating heart.

“This is,” he breathed and turned his gaze to Raven, who casually stood next to the Saint Andrew’s Cross, patiently waiting for his response. “Impressive,”

“Is it?” she asked curiously. Tim watched her absently walk through the room. She looked like a beacon of white, her white angel costume beautifully standing out in the starkness of black leather around them.

“Yeah,” Tim chuckled a little breathlessly. He followed her deeper into the room, his curious blue eyes studying the contraptions and furniture.

“So these are the more private dungeons,” explained Raven. She sat down on the bondage chair and watched Tim curiously take in the room. Her voice carried clearly through the empty room. “The rules of the club are straightforward. You can play scenes out in the open back in the atrium. To some degree some form of submission and dominance can be played in the bar, but all scenes with equipment should be played in the dungeons. Sex is not allowed in the open dungeons or anywhere else in the club, except in here – in the private dungeon,”

Tim blinked and swallowed thickly as heat spread across his chest as he listed to Raven explain the rules of the club and each of the rooms they went through. He looked at her from across the room, his breath catching at the sight of her on top of the bondage couch. She looked so comfortable and at ease. How often did she come here? How often had she been doing this? How often did she come into this room with someone –

“Did you like the tour so far?” Raven asked, eyeing him curiously.

Tim chuckled, tension slowly leaving his shoulders, and he slowly approached her. He absently fiddled with the silver chains that held the sex swing in placed and watched swing and hit his thigh. She shot him an amused look. “It’s been quite a tour,” he told her. He awkwardly sat down on the leader swing, releasing an amused huff as he sunk a little lower than expected and swung around a bit. He heard Raven snort in amusement. “Well, this is comfortable,” he chuckled and threw her a crooked smile. Tugging off the ugly domino mask, he stuffed it into his pocket.

“Not getting scared and overwhelmed?” Raven asked as she watched Tim lightly swing himself on the bondage swing.

“Ah, well.” Tim breathed and he planted his feet firmly on the ground to stop the swaying. “Not really. Maybe just a bit overwhelmed. But I got a really patient tour guide, so I’m giving her a five-star rating later on Yelp,”

Raven released a soft bark of laughter and Tim grinned boyishly at her. It was nice seeing her so free. He would love to see this side more. “So,” he breathed. “How long have you been coming here? To Gotham?”

Raven shrugged her shoulder absently. “I think around three years or so,” she said. “I heard that this was a good private club. Jump’s club were too close to home for me and I didn’t really want to share my secret with anyone on the team,” her lips curled into an amused smile. “So this place was a good choice. Far away from the rest of the world and close enough for me to still teleport back to Jump,”

Tim hummed in understanding. He cast her another curious glance and she seemed to wait for him to ask his question. “So, do you play scenes too?”

He watched her absently fiddle with one of the loops of the bondage bed. Her fingers looped tightly around the silver hoop and he wondered if she preferred to be a sub or a dom – since she seemed to be looking for a switch. Though he instantly killed that thought. “Sometimes, not really very often. There are a few friends who like to play a few scenes. Given who and what I am, it’s a bit difficult for me to find a permanent switch,” she confessed. Her piercing blue gaze caught his own and Tim felt his heart stutter for a brief moment. “But I’ve never really used this room before,”

Tim caught the implication and watched her curiously as she continued. “Since I can’t enjoy the things I’d like to enjoy, I come here and live through the emotions in the club. If I can’t be tied up the way I’d like to, I get to feel the thrill through others. It’s still quite enjoyable,” she shared.

Right. Empath. She was feeding off all the emotions in the room. Tim stared at her, completely in awe. He blinked as a thought caught up with him. “Who you are,” he corrected, sitting up awkwardly on the swing. It creaked under his weight. “Not what you are. It doesn’t really matter what you are. You’re Raven, err, Rachel. And that’s it,”

Raven smiled at him. “That’s sweet. Thank you,”

There was a beat and they stared at each other. Tim smiled at her, as the tension and awkwardness he initially felt seemed to have finally dissipated. “So, tied up, huh?”

For the first time since he saw her, her confident exterior broke for a moment and she blushed and chuckled, looking away briefly. “I like it,” she said.

“I’ve seen some really intricate rope patterns,” Tim said, awkwardly pulling himself out of the swing, and throwing her an assuring smile.

Raven raised a curious eyebrow. “You did?”

He laughed and nervously ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “So I did a little research before coming back here tonight,” he admitted.

Raven hummed and nodded. Standing up, her heels again clicked against the black marble floor as she made her way around the room. “Always doing your research, Tim Drake-Wayne,”

“Guilty as charged,” Tim chuckled.

Raven stopped and looked at him curiously. Her lips curled into that tempting smile again and Tim felt his breath catch. “Is there anything you’d like to try,” she paused and her smile widened a fraction of an inch. “For research?”

The air seemed to change in the room and Tim felt his heart speed up again. She had a way to make his heart speed up tonight. He swallowed as he watched Raven wait for his answer. Did he want to try something out? Wasn’t this why he came back in the first place? “I – uh,”

“Only if you want to,” Raven said reassuringly.

Tim released the breath he had been holding. His curiosity gnawed at him – he wanted to know more about this side of Raven. And yes, he did want to know about this – all of this. “Sure,” he whispered.

He watched a delighted expression cross her face, her eyes bright and her lips curl into that smile he suddenly could not get enough of. Tim walked towards her, curious which contraption she would lead him to.

“We’ll do something easy,” she said and they stopped below the medieval suspension bar. They booth looked up at the large wooden beam that was suspended from the ceiling by heavy silver chains. A hot jolt of excitement ran down Tim’s spine again as he watched Raven lower the beam to his height. The chains rustled noisily and the leather wrist cuffs swung invitingly as the bar lowered.

“This is a suspension bar,” said Raven and Tim watched her grab one of the leather wrist cuffs and open it open. “They keep your subs in place, if you like being tied up. It’s fun for some kinky play,” she said, while opening up the other cuff.

She eyed him curiously. “Is this okay?” she asked.

Tim felt his nerves stutter but excitement that ran through him made him slowly nod. “Yeah,” he mumbled and felt the air around them thicken just a fraction. He blinked up at the beam and turned back to stare at her curiously. “Where do you want me?”

“Here,” she said, pointing right below the beam. When he stood next to her, Raven hummed. “Can I –” fingers feathered over his wrist. “Yeah,” he replied.

Raven made quick work to binding his wrists into the cuffs, keeping the cuffs tight enough that were comfortable but still enough for the illusion of being tied down. Tim was sure his nerves were singing at this point as he felt his wrist strain against the confines of the cuffs and his arm muscles flexed at the feeling of being restrained.

“You good?” she asked when she stepped away from him and Tim stood there in front of her, arms restrained and whole body slowly buzzing at the idea of being so on display in front of her.

He could feel the tension in his arms and despite how often in the past he had been restrained and chained up, this time, holy shit it actually felt good. There were a thousand different ways he could break from restrains, he thought. But tonight, these restraints felt right.

“Yeah,” he breathed and he involuntarily moved his wrists, making the leather creak with the movement. Raven stared at the cuff with interest.

Raven hummed again and smiled in satisfaction. Tim watched with bated breath as she just stood there for a moment, her head tilted and she seemed to study him. The way here blue eyes seemed to sweep over his form, studying and memorizing every inch of skin, dip of muscle and scar, sent heat through his body that he thought was not possible. Holy shit.

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat. Taking a step back, she slowly walked back to the bondage couch. She picked up her riding crop. Tim shifted in anticipation. He watched her white form slowly walk back towards him and he drank her sight in, taking in the sway of her hips and the teasing smile that played on her lips. He caught her gaze and felt his breath catch at the predatory gaze that held her eyes.

She stood in front of him, he could feel her warm proximity. He smelled her lavender scent and watched as her eyes danced over his face and down his body again, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she absently tapped her riding crop against her thigh. “Can I touch you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” it came out a bit faster than he wanted. Tim inhaled to steady himself and watched a satisfied smile on Raven’s lips.

“Is there somewhere you don’t want me to touch? Are you hurt somewhere?” she asked.

Tim cleared his throat. “Just a bit sore from last night’s patrol and run-in with Ivy. Right ribs,” he said.

Raven nodded. With a soft hum, she stepped closer to him, and placed her free hand on his waist. Tim inhaled sharply at the warm touch and his muscles immediately contracted. Giving him a moment to adjust, she then slipped her hand up his abs and over the dips of well-defined muscle before resting on his ribs. Her warm fingers pressed into his skin and he felt the warm rush of her powers seep into him, steadily healing sore muscle. The tingling warmth of her healing powers had jolted him briefly, surprised at the exciting warmth that spread through him.

“There,” she mumbled and looked up to catch Tim’s surprised gaze. “All better,”

“You didn’t need to –”

“I wanted to,” Raven teased and tapped the riding crop against his chest to cut him off. Tim’s eyes widened at the action. His skin seemed to flare up with excitement and nervousness as Raven tapped his chest again before allowing the riding crop to slide down his chest at a treacherously slow pace. Tim watched as Raven held his gaze, her eyes bright and filled with excitement. His muscles contracted as the leather tip of the crop pressed into the dips of his abs and stopped just shy below his belly button. He inhaled sharply when Raven pressed into him. There was a trail of heat that followed the riding crop.

She then stepped away and Tim’s muscles flexed at the sudden loss of proximity and contact. His mind was slowly turning hazy and he inhaled as he watched Raven study him again. He moved his wrists and they strained against their confines. The way she was riling him up was exciting. He wondered what she’d do next.

Raven hummed softly to a tune he was not familiar with. He watched her step into his space again before disappearing behind his back and slowly pressing into his back. He could feel her soft curves press into his side and he craned his neck to the side to catch a glimpse of her.

“Stop moving around, Tim,” she said, voice steady and the riding crop pressed into his side. Excitement ran through him at the order and he did as she told him.

He felt her stand on her toes, stretching her body along his side so she could reach his ear. He felt Raven’s breath fan over his right cheek and she held onto this shoulder to steady herself. “Have you been a good Red Robin? Hmm?” she whispered into his ear, her voice holding a teasing lilt.

Holy hell. Tim tried to hold back the groan that rumbled low in his chest. He felt heat pool low in his abdomen and he squirmed under her teasing gaze. His arm muscles contracted as he tried to move again as heat seemed to just spread everywhere.

It was dizzying how a little teasing could send him into overdrive.

“Steady,” Raven warned and Tim stilled under her voice. She then began her careful trek with her riding crop, running it up his sides and over his arms and under his chin, using it to nudge his face towards her and catch his blown gaze. He swallowed as he stared in to her bright eyes. She drank in his reaction.

“Let’s try some hits,” she said, her voice still so enticingly low. “Would you like that? Tell me if you don’t. Green is go, red is stop,”

“Okay. Green,” he breathed, releasing a breath he did not know he was holding. He felt like his whole body was burning up, as Raven continued to study him under her watchful gaze.

She hummed in delight and with precision landed a sharp hit with her riding crop against his right thigh. Tim hissed, muscles contracting and a sharp pool of heat jumped low in his abdomen. Fuck.

The riding crop came down again on his other thigh. The pain was sharp and nice. He blinked through the jolt of pain and excitement and watched as Raven smiled brightly at him. There was blush dusting her cheeks and he was sure she felt his jumbled emotions.

Raven tapped his bicep and he felt the muscle contract under the leather. Raven’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the reaction and her lips curled into a languid smile. “I think you’ve been a good Red Robin,” she said, her voice hushed. He felt his skin bristle pleasantly at the praise.

She allowed him to adjust for a moment, studying his reaction again, before stepping closer and eyeing how his wrists strained against the cuffs. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight,” she said and slowly worked on releasing his wrists from their confines.

Despite how little time he spent in the confines, perhaps it was the thrill of the moment, his arms and shoulder burned as she released him from the hold of the beam. The burn was pleasant and Tim sighed softly as his nerves still burned under his skin. He ignored how he wished they could have continued.

“Here,” Raven mumbled and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking herself into his chest. Tim wrapped his arms around her small frame, marveling at how easily she fit into him. “Aftercare is important,”

Tim hummed as his heart still beat loudly against his chest and he was sure that Raven could hear it. He felt his mind still reeling, dizzy, from the rollercoaster of thrill and excitement over what just happened. He enjoyed the warm press of her body against his and Raven seemed to respond in kind as her arms tightened just a fraction around his waist.

They stayed like that for a few more moments before Raven slowly pulled away. Stepping back, she eyed him curiously as Tim took a steading breath. “You did good,” she said, smiling softly at him.

“That was,” Tim breathed unsteadily, huffing a soft chuckle and sheepishly smiling at her. He still felt flushed and breathless. “Definitely something else,”

“In a good way?”

He caught her gaze, patiently waiting for his response. His smile grew. “Yeah, in a good way.”

Raven seemed pleased and they both shared another smile. He was sure that something changed, shifted, between them, but Tim settled for now to not probing further. Whatever shifted was pleasant and exciting, and he desperately wanted to get to know more of this Raven.

They settled to tidying up the space they used. Removing the cuffs from the beam, sanitizing them, and placing them into designating cleaning bins. Tim pulled his domino mask back on and they made idle conversation as they slowly moved back up into the higher levels of the club, occasionally teasing and learning just a little bit more of the other. They had one more round of drinks before finally calling it a night.

Tim waited for her outside the coatroom. When she emerged she had a disgruntled look on her face as she buttoned up her trench coat. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I think someone took my shirt by mistake,” she said while adjusting the lapels of her coat. She guessed it wasn’t too much of a problem, she was wearing a coat.

Tim frowned. “Here,” he said. He removed his grey down jacket and thrust it into a surprised Raven’s hands. He made quick work to remove his blue button up shirt. Taking back his jacket, he placed his button up in her hands. “Take that, I’m parked close by anyway,” he said and started to put on his down jacket over his naked chest.

Raven blinked and wordlessly nodded. She disappeared back into the coatroom and remerged moments later, buttoning up her trench coat and offering Tim a grateful smile. “Thanks,” she said while securing the belt around her waist. “It’s a bit chilly outside around this time,”

“Don’t mention it,” he said and pushed open steel door for her. They stepped out into the cold empty street of Gotham and briefly looked around to study the streets for any potential threats.

“So,” Tim breathed, casually stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and eyeing Raven curiously. “How do you get home?”

Raven shrugged and smiled at him. “I have a safehouse here. I’ll go there for the night to sleep and go back to Jump tomorrow morning,” she explained.

He raised his brows in surprise. “Really? A safehouse?”

“We have personal safehouses everywhere in case the team gets compromised. Standard protocol,” she explained. Tim nodded, yeah, that made sense. They all did.

“Right,” he breathed. He glanced at the street behind her and silently marveled at how fast the night seemed to have passed. Perhaps he could see her again?

“I had fun tonight, Tim,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Me too,”

Raven smiled teasingly, nose wrinkling in that adorable way that Tim hope he could see more of. “I hope I did not scare you away,”

Tim snorted and he grinned at her. “Far from it,”

Raven released a soft chuckle. “Good,” she breathed. Straightening, she sighed softly and briefly looked over her shoulder to study the empty street and turned back to Tim. “Well, I’m this way,”

“I could drive you home?” Tim asked quickly.

Raven paused and seemed to mull over the offer before smiling softly and shaking her head. Stepping closer to Tim, she grabbed his forearm for a little leverage and leaned up to press a chase kiss to his cheeks. “Not tonight, Tim,” she mumbled and stepped away. She gave him a small smile. “But next time, yeah.”

“Okay,” Tim said, just a little breathless from the soft contact and the whispered promise of another time. He returned her smile and nodded. “Good night, Rachel.”

“Good night, Tim,” she replied and Tim watched her turn on her heels and slowly walk down the street, heels resonating loudly in the silent street. As he watched her disappear into the distance, he felt his chest warm and his mind still reel from tonight’s events. Tim released a deep breath he had been holding.

What a night. His skin still tingled with excitement.

[daintykeith]

RUN KID RUN

Title: Run Kid Run

Summary: Dutch and Hosea are trying to teach John how to read but he runs off after they got frustrated and Arthur goes deep into the woods looking for John.

Word count: 2298

Notes: mild cursing | brief scene despicting an almost hanging | feedback is appreciated!!!

Tags: @onlytherocksliveforever

Happy late Christmas and Happy new year! I’m sorry I’m so late, this took me forever; I’ve been giving it a long thought and decided to comply to your second item in your wish list!

2) i love DUMB ASS John Marston and his better looking brother Arthur; give me a slice of life with the two of them pre-canon, or a story about them helping the other thru a tough time.

I’ve decided to combine both ideas and so this story came to be.

When Arthur was twenty-three, he saw a boy—dirty, savage and with a look in his eyes that had given up on living. This boy was with a rope in his neck, ready to be hanged. Dark gray with no reflection but death itself; no tears, no regret. Dead Eyes that held onto dear life with a fierceness reflected in his fists.

Next to the boy, an unnamed man spoke words of dead wisdom and nonsense which to the eyes of Arthur was meaningless.

“We have come to see the of law enacted. We will not sit idly by as people take the law into their own hands!”

Heavy kind of bullshit that Arthur didn’t enjoy a bit.

The crowd of the town roared loudly in excitement and agreement. For them, it was only entertainment, a show that made Arthur’s gut churn with anger. He tilted his hat lower and turned around, ready to move on. However, Dutch’s hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him.

“He looks like you did, a while ago,” Dutch said with a smirk before the gun in his hip shot the rope on the boy’s neck.

“He doesn’t.”

The boy’s shine returned in a glimpse that Arthur caught with both his eyes and heart. A will to fight and survive, to get the hell out of the mess that was about to start.

“What the hell Dutch?!”

“He was not meant to. Not yet.”

A sense of relief in his chest appeared with a long deep breath. He was glad for the boy that had gotten a chance to live, what was Dutch and Hosea thinking when they brought him into camp?

Arthur got wounded in the dirty fight they had in town for freeing the boy and he was resting in his tent, with Susan on his side cleaning his injuries. When Dutch and Hosea walked in, he asked: “What took ya’ so long?” with a warm grin that quickly faded into disbelief.

The boy stood between the two men, pouting his lips, frowning and crossing his arms as means to make himself more intimidating. The way Dutch smiled, looked and treated him with his gentle gestures and Hosea had given his jacket to protect him from the chilling breeze of that night was so familiar to Arthur; he had been in that place after all. What was that boy doing in camp? Similar to himself in the past, why did they needed to bring someone as intense and dumb as him? Wasn’t one dumb enough? He wondered.

“What’s your name, kid?” Arthur asked after he noticed Dutch’s gaze on him.

The boy stood silent.

“Come on boy, tell him.” Dutch crouched to his side and whispered words to him that Arthur wasn’t able to hear.

He remained silent.

When Arthur was twenty-four, he met the boy. A month had passed from his rescue and Arthur’s birthday quickly arrived with the cold and mean air of winter. There was no snow landscape yet, the skies had become dark and gray like the boy’s eyes and the fallen leaves

“John Marston,” the boy said with a mean streak that left Arthur with a bad taste in his tongue.

“Arthur Morgan.” He extended his hand to greet but John had already abandoned and left him with the words unsaid in his lips.

Arthur sighed and placed his hands on his gun belt; he could see John’s silhouette far away, hiding somewhere where he thought no one could see him, and grinned. A part of him still refused to acknowledge John, prouder than a bull and wilder than a cougar in a midnight sky, and another part of him found itself in that boy who slept with a knife under his pillow.

“John, come here!” Dutch called the next morning.

Arthur was laying in comfortably in his bed, with his worn-out leather hat covering his eyes, thinking about what to draw in his journal. A bird? A flower? An herb? His imagination was as dull as dishwater and his brain couldn’t tell skunks from house cats. Boredom was partly guilty of the dullness, too.

“John, come on.” From his closed tent, Arthur saw how Hosea’s figure grabbed John’s arm and took him somewhere beyond the reach of their shadow. A loud growl, from the boy, echoed through the whole camp that Arthur scoff. The boy was that stubborn?

The blue-eyed man closed his journal, stood up from his bed and walked out of his tent to do the chores of the day. As he chopped wood, he could see Dutch and Hosea, with John between them, sitting together in one of the round tables near the food station with a book in hand. This was going to be fun to see, Arthur thought.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Dutch said firmly. “Read this part here.”

“No,” John scowled.

“Why not? It’s not that hard if you try. Here. The king in his…” Hosea slowly talked

John went silent.

“Boy,” Dutch lowly growled.

Arthur swung his axe over the log and splat it in half. When he was putting the wood aside, he peeked at John. The boy had his arms crossed, frowning and giving the book in the table a deadly gaze. Did he hate reading that much? Arthur laughed to himself and got caught by Hosea who looked at him with disapproval. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He tried to slowly walk away, feigning ignorance, but the older man approached quicker than he predicted and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Arthur.” Hosea squeezed hard the shoulder blade and grinned in a way that created grimace in Arthur’s expression, “wanna’ join us? I thought I could show you the new book I got!”

Arthur grunted.

Just great. He knew Hosea’s way of scolding Arthur and thinking about it annoyed him, however, he didn’t expect to see Dutch vexed, red-faced and squeezing the book with both his hands, yelling to John.

On the other hand, Hosea was perplexed. He dragged his hands over his now tired face and sighed.

“He wasn’t this troublesome!” Dutch said to Hosea, referring obviously to Arthur.

Something in that statement made Arthur chest puff in pride. Oh boy, he really liked that. Even if he refused to acknowledge this feeling to everyone else, he liked it when Dutch or Hosea praised him.

Arthur remembered the days when Dutch and Hosea were teaching him to read. Hot summer days, mosquitoes everywhere and that smell he couldn’t forget, berries and lemon, which brought his mind ten years back, when he was a thin, small and young boy. He grinned to the loveable thought and looked at Dutch fighting with John.

“Dutch, what’re ya doin’!? Don’t ya’ grab him like that and rub his head!”

“I know he can do it, but he’s not even trying!”

Something Arthur knew is that Dutch would take as “true” whatever he assumed; and hardly took back his words—standing for what he believed, a true blessing for the wise and a curse for the ignorant. Later on, Arthur didn’t know which of those Dutch was. A true mystery until the very end.

“Dutch, calm down, you’re gonna scare ‘im…”

“But I know he can—"

“Shut up, you pair of dimwits!” Susan yelled from afar as she sewed one of Arthur’s shirt.

And before any of them could say any further word, John slammed his hands against the table and ran away into the woods that surrounded the camp.

“Get back here, boy!”

What a mess. When Arthur saw no signs of Dutch calming down or Hosea backing down, he decided to look out for the now goner.

“John! Where are ya’!?” Arthur yelled as he stomped over some broken sticks. Definitively John.

“Ya’ damn bastard, dontchu’ ever get tired?” he whispered to himself, wondering as he furrowed his brows and rushed his pace.

As he walked deeper into the woods, the stars that normally would be faded under sunlight, had come out without any shame, telling Arthur to hurry. The breeze got colder and the sky darker and even if he found clues of where he could have gone to, the boy sure knew how to keep out of sight. He was going nuts; what the hell was the kid running from?! He had nothing to run from and nowhere to go, what was he thinking?

“John!” He called once more before he heard a gasp to his side.

The moment he turned his head, he saw a terrified boy who had fallen into the ground. Unlike the first time he saw him, fierceness shone in his eyes despite of the fear that his thin body could not hide—however, that didn’t mean it wasn’t agile. He quickly got up into his feet and started running towards the glowing moon.

“Oh no, you ain’t!”

He could hear John’s broken breathing and how he gasped for the air he didn’t have; it broke Arthur’s heart.

“Watchu’ running from, kid?!”

Arthur got closer with every step he took and grabbed without any restrains John’s wrist to stop him, quite brusque for his liking but there was nothing he could do. Those iron eyes gazed at him with the loathe and anger he deserved which left a sour flavor in his mouth. John struggled to free himself from Arthur’s grip but it only got stronger.

“Lemme ask you again, kid. Watchu’ running from?”

John struggled again and Arthur grabbed his other wrist. He took a deep breathe and closed his eyes for a moment. Was it this hard for everyone else to deal with him? Being a kid in the streets wasn’t easy, it roughens you up in a way that shatters what you truly are, breaking and eventually rotting every corner in your mind. But he was no kid in the streets no more, he could finally begin living and not just survive.

“He wanted to kill me,” John replied in a quick low whisper.

Arthur raised a brow. “Dutch was shootin’ his mouth off and by now Hosea and Susan must have given ‘im a black eye for that.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“Let go!” John fought with all his strengths to free himself; Arthur tightened his grip.

“Listen to me, kid. You got nothing to run from; here you got a bed, food and people who want ya’—”

“Dead…” John interrupted.

“Let me finish! Goddamit—as I was saying. None of ‘em want ya’ to be a goner.”

“How can I trust you? They all said I was an idiot, useless. They all hate me and they’ll kill me. It’s better if I’m gone.”

“We’re family.” Arthur meant it. He had found a part of himself in the little black-haired boy that wanted to keep running; running to never look back, from all the things he didn’t deserve.

“We ain’t.”

“Listen to me you little piece of…! You became part of us the very moment Dutch cut that rope on your neck and brought you into the camp.”

“Still; that doesn’t mean I can trust you guys. You’re outlaws.”

John wasn’t buying a single bit of what Arthur was saying. Shit. At this rate he was gonna run off by himself and God knows what would happen to him.

“They took me in when I was your age.” John’s eyes widened in curiosity; “I… well, my momma died when I was real young and my daddy… let’s say I wish he did too. They taught me how to read and Hosea taught me how to draw.”

Despite of the nervousness inside him, Arthur took the journal out of his satchel and gave it to John without letting go of one of his wrists. He eagerly flipped through the pages and stopped to look at some of the drawings it contained; some of the graphite stuck into his fingers, but it didn’t stop him from eyeing with detail each illustration.

“Why didn’t ya’ read? Back then, when Dutch and Hosea asked you to.”

There was a long pregnant pause. “I did—read it, I mean. I, uh, wasn’t sure to er, say it out loud.”

“Really?” Arthur smiled from ear to ear. “See? You’re smart, John! Ya’ ain’t that bad, there’s potential.”

John blushed at Arthur’s praise and kept looking at the drawings until he reached the last one, that page that had remained blank for the whole day.

“They are family to me. Family is everything; I’d die for it.” His voice didn’t shake even once.

John closed the journal and gave Arthur a gaze full of admiration that Arthur wasn’t worthy of. He could be one nasty son-of-a-bitch, rash to anger and emotions; unfamiliar to giving inspirational speeches like Dutch would do or smooth-talking like Hosea the Conman.

“And I will…” he stuttered, “I, uh…”

“You what.”

“I won’t let them kill ya’; just in case.”

A mischievous grin appeared in John’s face. “That won’t stop me tho.”

Arthur had let his guard down. John escaped from his grip and started to run the fastest he could. Where the hell was he going to and, most importantly, where the heck had he gotten all that damn energy from?

“Cuz’ I’ll kill ya’ myself, you little piece of shit!”

“Thank you, brother” John screamed in the distance.

“You ain’t got the right to be my brother!” Yet, he wanted to say but kept it to himself.

That day, when Arthur was twenty-four, his family grew by one member. Even if mocked him every now and then and behaved like assholes, it was the most important thing to Arthur. It was everything he had—not like money or gold; those two could go straight to hell unless Dutch and Hosea gave the word.

[booksandwords]

The Librarian's Vampire Assistant 2 by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Series: The Librarian's Vampire Assistant #2 Read time: 2 Days Rating: 4.5/5

The quote: “Please. Try to stop squirming. This is supposed to be a family-friendly mystery novel.” “What?” “Never mind. We all knew it would turn R-rated at some point.” — Michael Vanderhorst & Miriam Murphy

This is a book with a hell of an ending. It concludes the storylines started in 2, lines up 3 with a bang. It definitely encourages people to keep going. I should have guessed at least some of the endgame but didn't, it's set up well. The players were al there, the signpost are there to be seen but will only make sense when everything comes together. There are some moments of serious darkness including Michael attempting suicide (look it makes perfect sense in context). That is a spoiler, I will not hide it because I need it where it can be seen.

This is a book for two kinds of people. Those who like supernatural fiction and booklovers. Both the main characters Miriam and Michael are booklovers, Miriam is an almost stereotypical librarian intelligent, shy, clumsy and with a hoard of books. This book adds to what is already known of their characters. Michael is a dichotomy. He is deadly, old and always put together but he as a streak of loyalty to those who show loyalty to him and a strong set of principles. All wrapped up in a mess of humour and slightly confused feelings about his librarian. As the pov for the reader, we get an idea of his personality he's slightly sarcastic and highly amusing. But the way he describes himself is funny... "The deed of a four-century-old vampire with the face of a twenty-year-old. And the body of an underwear model."; "athletic build, six feet one, thick dark hair, and charmer of a smile."; "crossing my muscled arms over my very muscled chest. I was a university student who enjoyed exercise and boxing on the side for money before Clive saved my life from the flu. To this day, I still enjoy working out.". I always forget how young he presents as and I can't get over that. Michaels coding feels at least initially like it is sitting somewhere on in the aroace spectrum. But it's not that simple and it is even more complicated by the end. Michael's confusion over the bond he has with Miriam is still unexplained it's something I guess we will find out at some point. I see Miriam as a booklovers protagonist, as a librarian she has what so many consider a dream job (which is mine), she has a house full of rare books and first editions. One of the best exchanges in this book is “Which was your favorite?” “That’s like asking a musician to tell you his or her favorite note. A true booklover doesn’t have one.”. That is such a booklover response and I'm pretty sure I've made a similar answer at some point. She is stronger and more perceptive than she appears. Her love and trust in people is fantastic.

Lula is just a straight-up badass woman. Smart and more than able to hold her own against the men. Viviana is far behind Lula in the badass stakes but where Lula is physical and very obvious, Viviana is the brilliant assistant/ lawyer to Michael, loyal and efficient. "While I cannot argue with Viviana’s rage, I am shocked by it. I have never seen her claws and teeth. Of course, Aspen had forced Viviana to become a vampire and then used her child as leverage." She may have been blackmailed into her vampiric state but she is determined to make the most of it. I never want to see her truly in anger.

It must be said that while The Librarian's Vampire Assistant books stand alone or at least Mimi Jean claims they do and she does reiterates the characters, circumstances and some of the lore. These are all built on through the books as necessary. I like Mimi Jean's lore, especially this quote about sunlight. "We simply hate the hell out of it, similar to how cats hate baths, children hate bedtime, and men hate listening. Vampires. Hate. Sunshine.". Book 2 does build heavily on book 1 even if the circumstances are explained it definitely makes more sense if you know what is going on coming in.

I'm finding this with an annotated quote dump.

“Oh really? How about story time, huh? I see that glint in your brown eyes when you think you’re about to scare the children. Of course, you end up boring them to sleep, which is why the moms all love you. I think they’ve started a fan club.” — I love this line. Michael and kids is one of the cutest things

"I am a man. On the rare occasion I do not know something, I wing it. Hasn’t failed me yet." — No comment I just need it in this review

"“Didn’t your parents leave cash reserves?” She shakes her head no. “They spent their money on books. Every last dime.” She shakes her head no. “They spent their money on books. Every last dime.” My kind of people." — I mean yeah mine too. But damn Miriam got a bit screwed on getting the ability to care for her amazeballs collection and her library.

"Mr. Nice is a giant ball of crazy wrapped in an impenetrable blanket of crazy and dipped in dazzling crazy sprinkles. — I mean this is a fair point. He is A LOT.

"As a collector of literature myself, I have never seen anything like the items in her home. It gives me a solid book-boner merely thinking about it. First. Editions. Mmmm…” — Michael... Micahel I love it.

"She is right. She never will be ready. This beautiful, delicate little flower would wither in my world. She is meant to live a human life filled with books, story times, and love." — This is so soft and pretty and loving. I like how Michael talks about Miriam.

[ablogcalledrevenge]

Never Really Over 

(a Gabriel O’Malley x Reader Insert Multichapter Fic, Rated M)

Chapter One

There’s a knock on your door around 7pm on Friday night. You’re not expecting anyone and you freeze on the couch, knowing the episode of Wonder Woman is loud and clear. You grab your gun from the table and shove it in the back of your shorts, the metal cold against your skin. It might be nothing, but better to be safe than sorry. Los Angeles in 1978 was a seedy place and you weren’t an idiot. It’s also interesting to note because you live in a gated apartment complex; no one can get in without you letting them in first. So whoever’s at your door means business.

You unbolt and open the door, see who it is, and immediately slam the door in their face.

 “Hey! Fuck (Y/N), let me in! I gotta talk to you. Open the damn door!” He yells through the wood, not doubt alerting your neighbors. Unfortunately it was now that you regretted living with so many secretive people; they knew not to call the cops. While most of the time that was a good thing, now you wish they would. He deserved a long stay in some holding cell after what he put you through. But you also knew he was stubborn and would probably stay there all night yelling if you let him. So with a sigh, you open the door and let him in.

Gabriel O’Malley steps over the threshold and back into your life like nothing ever happened. Like you’d never told him you loved him, and like he never left you without a word. Like a year hadn’t passed without so much as a phone call. You were a little surprised by how much it hurt to see him, how much you still weren’t over him. It was embarrassing.

He sits down at your kitchen table, quiet and waiting. There is a brief standoff where you just stare at each other. Throwing up your hands, you turn on the stove to boil water for tea. You grab mugs from the cabinet, unthinkingly taking his favorite- blue and green swirled porcelain- without even realizing. 

“You know, you got a lotta of nerve coming back here. Everyone knows what you did to me, you’re not going to find many sympathetic friends.” You say as the tea brews. He doesn’t say anything, content to watch you. You’re annoyed that he caught you in your pajamas. It’s a cute set, a pink satin tank and shorts your sister gave you, but he doesn’t deserve to see it. You should plug him full of lead right now, the absolute nerve!

“Yeah well, I couldn’t stay in New York. Shit happened.” He finally says, as you give him his tea. You could doctor it up just the way he likes, you still remember, but instead you place milk and sugar on the table between you. He doesn’t look bad if you’re being truthful. He looks like he gained a little bit of weight, which was good since he was such a beanpole, but he’d lost a lot of the beautiful color he’d gotten working in LA. Everything else is the same. His hair, his stubble, his clothes, the mole on his cheek you used to kiss for luck. It’s all there and you can feel your heart shriveling in your chest.

“Oh I know. We all know what went down in New York. It’s a fucking mess, is what happened. I mean, I’m all for girl power but you completely dismantled Hell’s Kitchen. Apparently the broads you backed couldn’t even keep themselves together. You stole the Hasidim from the Italians, which was a risky move, and you’re gonna hear about it for sure. But then, the girls start to split; one of ‘em died and the other is trying for Harlem? Yeah, good luck with that.” You snort into your tea. He looks pained at the mention of Claire’s death but it’s true. If she were smart, she wouldn’t have died.

“And now you’ve come crawling back to us. You backed the wrong horse and you know if you show your face in Midtown, they’ll cut your throat. I don’t know what’s more stupid; that you came back at all, or that you thought this would work? Did you expect me to open the door and fall into your arms with gratitude? Think you could just walk into Zayde’s office and get your job back? Are you outta your fucking mind? They’ll kill you when they find out you’re back.” You promise, trying to keep your voice down. The walls between apartments were insulated and people minded their own business, but this was still a touchy subject.

“Look I know I messed up! I was trying to help. They’re my people, some of them family and they needed help. The guys in charge were running it into the ground. You should’ve seen the way they treated their wives, it was disgusting! Believe me, even with all the bullshit, the Kitchen is better with the women in charge. But I got too invested and Cathy told me to leave, so here I am. They’re not gonna kill me, I’m no rat. I just, you know, abandoned the family and broke your heart. Sorry by the way.” He shrugs, looking sheepish but not worried. You see red and stand up from the table.

“Sorry by the way? Sorry by the way! You fucking schmuck! You broke my heart! You left without a word, without a reason. I didn’t know what happened to you or where you were. I thought you’d been taken or killed! And then I hear that you’re in New York, helping the Irish and screwing some married bitch! The same one I’ve been in the shadow of since we met! You expect me to be okay with a sorry?” You accuse, the anger practically steaming off your body. 

He sips his tea and you almost lunge across the table. Your cat tinkles in from the other room and meows at Gabriel, who peers down with a very soft look. Your heart cracks again.

“Since when do you have a cat? She’s cute.” He asks, picking up Magenta and letting her snuggle against his chest. You glare at the traitor, as if you didn’t cry into her fur about the man holding her. 

“I got her about 6 months ago. It helped to have someone around, even if she couldn’t really talk back. I just got really lonely here.” You admit, finger running along the lip of your mug.

“What? You haven’t dated anyone since I left?” He asks, looking genuinely confused. Which surprises you considering he’s here to apologize and possibly worm his way into your heart. But his surprise that you weren’t seeing anyone didn’t add up with the other stuff. Why would he want you to date other people? Maybe to make him feel less guilty?

“No I did, but it was never that serious. I just didn’t feel like getting involved with anyone like that. It felt like I was betraying you, even though you would’ve deserved it.” You can hear the faint sounds of Lynda Carter stopping bullets from the other room. Then a beer commercial starts and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. With him in the apartment, it’s like everything is reminding you of before. Before he left for New York and took your heart with him.

“Yeah well, looks like we’re both back to square fucking one.” Gabe scoffs, draining his cup and letting Magenta jump down from his lap. He glances around your apartment, though it hasn’t changed much in a year, before leaning back in his chair.

“So, where am I sleeping?” He asks and you pull the gun from your shorts and point it in his face. You’ve reached your tipping point with him, clearly.

“Un-fucking-believable. If you think you can just come back here and everything will go back to the way it was, you’ve got another thing coming. Now get outta my house.” Your gaze is deadly and your hand doesn’t shake. Gabe gets up slowly and walks towards the door, hands up in a placating gesture. The barrel follows him. He opens the door and steps out of your apartment and into the warm night air.

“You look real beautiful (Y/N), fuck it’s good to see you.” He says wistfully before you slam the door in his face again. What an asshole. Still, you can’t help but smile at his boldness. Gabriel O’Malley wasn’t a loud man, didn’t care about being in the spotlight, but he was always bold. It was nice to see some things hadn’t changed.

  ~~~~~~~~

  He ends up taking a bus to Tony’s house, happy to still remember where everything is. The house looks the same, pale green siding with blooming flower boxes under the window. It looks like the hydrangeas finally grew, that was nice.

Taking a deep breath, Gabe knocks on the door as the fireflies buzz around him. Shit, it was late, wasn’t it? He should’ve come at a different time. But before he could flee, the door opens.

“Gabey! Oh Gabey, it’s so good to see you! Come inside and eat something, I made stuffed shells. Here, I’ll get you a plate.” Mrs. Petrillo says, ushering him into the house. Even if he wanted to argue, he wouldn’t. You didn’t argue with Mrs. Petrillo. She was 5 feet of pure Italian dynamite and he loved the old broad to pieces.

A huge plate of food is set in front of him, along with wine and bread, and he eats happily as Mrs Petrillo putters around her kitchen. Her house slippers make scuffing noises on the laminate floor and the sound is comforting to him.

“Gabey patatino, how are you? What are you doing back? How was New York?” She asks, sitting next to him at the old diner style table and patting his hand. 

“I’m good Mrs. P, I’m good. New York was… well some good things happened and some bad things happened but I’m doing okay.” He explains in between bites. She makes a sympathetic noise and gives him another slice of bread.

“Hey Ma, who was at the door? Was it… Gabriel O’Malley, you sonuvabitch! You know, you gotta lot of nerve coming back here.” Tony says, entering the kitchen with a grimace. Gabe gives a tight smile in response.

“Anthony Michael, is that any way to talk to your friend? Let him eat before you start yelling in my kitchen.” Mrs. P shoots back. Her son looks abashed for all of a moment before rounding back to Gabe, his gold cornicello swinging on his neck.

“Friend? This chooch fucks off for New York without a word and breaks (Y/N)’s heart with it and we’re supposed to let him back like it’s nothing? Ma, he doesn’t deserve the stuffed shells.” He yells, rightfully so; Gabe thinks as he wipes his mouth. 

Tony’s mother starts yelling about language and hospitality but the sound of Gabe pushing his chair back makes them quiet.

“He’s right Mrs. Petrillo. I’m a real jerk. I did a lot of things wrong. I was trying to help who I thought was my family and I ended up hurting the real one I had here. I made a lotta mistakes, the biggest one being how I treated her. But that’s why I’m back. I want to say I’m sorry, sorry to everyone, and fix things with her. I know it’s a mess, I don’t even have a place to stay or money.” Gabe sighs, rubbing at his forehead.

Mrs. P makes a soft sound of commiseration and hugs him. 

“Don’t worry patatino, everything’s gonna be fine. You can stay here until you get back on your feet. Right Anthony?” She offers, shooting a glare at her son. He glares at Gabe before nodding in concession. 

“I can’t stay mad at you, you leprechaun. Stay here and work on getting your life together.” Tony says, joining his mother to wrap Gabe in a hug. 

For the first time in months, Gabriel feels safe, he feels comforted. In New York, despite the power he had and Claire in his bed, he always felt so antsy. Like he was just waiting for everything to fall out from under him. When it did, well, it was probably a good thing that no one was in the train compartment with him on his way back to California.

“So what do I do Tony? Got any jobs for me? You know I’m good for it.” He finally says when he sits back down at the table to eat and his throat doesn’t feel so tight.

“Well, there is a wedding next week.” Tony says and he grins over his wine glass and Gabriel can’t help but laugh and raise his own glass in agreement.

Chapter Two Coming Soon...

Tagging: @babbushka​, @theold-ultraviolence

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!

[capesandshapes]

The Last Resort:Chapter 3 (Adrinette)

Summary: After an akuma attack goes wrong, Adrien finally learns Ladybug’s secret identity and finds himself falling even deeper in love with his friend. He thinks he’s finally gotten lucky when she declares to him that she’s currently in the business of falling love with anyone but her previous crush… until that crush turns out to be him. Now Adrien has to somehow convince the girl of his dreams to fall back in love with him, while keeping his own identity a secret from her. Well, if there was one thing his father taught him, it was how to multitask. Chapter Summary: A Gang That Is Totally More Concerned With Marinette's Attendance Than Anything Else  Adrien attempts to walk Marinette to school yet again but runs into three distractions. 

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He managed to walk her to school three times before the ruse of visiting the bakery for mere pastries was called into question. Waking her up and traveling the short distance to school with Marinette felt like a gift, one which he’d rather not share. Light conversation and frequent yawns felt like they were made for just the two of them, and Adrien lived for the moments where her half-awake body would stumble and catch herself on his hands. But, like all good things, it couldn’t last.  

Familiar red hair and a knowing smirk greeted him behind the bakery’s back door on the fourth morning. Alya leaned forward on the center countertop of the kitchen as Adrien entered, Nino struggling to stand and stay conscious behind her. Her face looked like the cat who caught the canary; Ironic, seeing as he was Chat Noir.  

“Good morning, Hot Stuff,” Alya purred, not out of lust for him, but desire for his secrets. He had no doubt in his mind why she was there. In fact, the only question he had about her sudden appearance was why it had taken so long.  

He’d avoided telling them on that first day… And then, coincidentally, the three days that followed as well. Adrien was always incredibly good at changing topics, but he never thought he would make it this far without Alya cornering him. Anything that had to do with Marinette was Alya’s business, she made sure the whole class knew that. Marinette’s once crush now becoming her pursuer ranked fairly high on the list of things that were considered Alya’s business.  

“Tom and Sabine saved you a croissant, a Danish pastry, and a banana creme eclair. They said it was your usual,” Alya informed him, pulling a small cardboard box out from under the counter and letting it fall softly on the countertop. “You know...It takes a long time for these pastries to bake and… Why, I think someone might have bought all of the other banana creme eclairs,” her devious tone left little question as to who could have done such a thing.  

He swallowed hard, not daring to reach for the pastry box. He’d promised the Gorilla that eclair during their lunch break, and he could already begin to hear Plagg’s high pitched whines in his head. No, he needed them; otherwise there was no way he’d be able to even attempt to walk Marinette to school anymore.  

“Spill,” Alya demanded, “or the pastries get it.”  

Adrien sighed, looking to Nino for some form of help. Unsurprisingly, his friend responded via nodding drowsily, his hand on Alya’s shoulder as he struggled to stay upward. Nino was never a morning person, not until he’d had a coffee or five.  

Adrien had wanted to keep things secret for a while longer, maybe manage to make it until he’d somehow wooed her. After all, it wasn’t like he could tell people the full reason for his sudden concern with Marinette. God forbid if anyone caught wind of how deep his feelings went, or that he had fantasized about a future with her. If he confirmed it to Alya, then that was as good as single-handedly telling every girl in his class, and then asking them to help him. Knowing the outlandish antics of his classmates, that was just asking for a train wreck to happen. So, he did the only thing he could; he lied.  

Or tried to.  

“Would you believe that I really like pastries?”  

Alya rolled her eyes, Nino not even trying to hide how unimpressed he was as he stood behind her. Well, it was worth a shot.  

Adrien raised his hands defensively, “okay, fine! You caught me,” he groaned, “ I’m not here for the croissants. Not that they’re not good croissants but--” He grimaced. “You win. I’m here for Marinette. I’ve been waking up an hour early and coming here every day to see her.”  

“You like her,” Alya grinned.  

“I do,” he admitted. Relief fell over him instantaneously, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted to tell another human being that. More than that, how liberating telling Alya and Nino would be. He opened his mouth to divulge more, but was interrupted by Alya.  

“You, Adrien Agreste, like her, Marinette Dupain Cheng,” her voice picked up volume as she spoke, excitement bubbling over. “Adrien Agreste likes Marin--”  

Adrien’s finger rose to his lips at the same time that Nino’s hand clapped over her mouth, both young men attempting to silence the girl. Within seconds, however, Nino flinched and removed his hand, whipping it on his pants as Alya momentarily stuck her tongue out at him.  

She spared Adrien a passing glance, bobbing up and down on her feet before turning on her heel very suddenly. “I’m going to tell her,” she announced, her face painted in excitement. “She didn’t believe me before, but just wait when I tell her now.”  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Nino nearly collided with Adrien as both young men practically ran across the kitchen to block the door leading to the apartment. “Hold on there, babe.”  

“You really don’t need to do that,” Adrien breathed, “trust me, I have things covered.”  

“Covered?” Alya scoffed, “Oh, so another three years of you two dancing around each other, great.” She frowned, tapping her foot as she impatiently waited for the two to move. “Trust me. If you just give me five seconds, she’ll be all over you. You two will be on couple dates with us in no time.” Tilting her head, she continued, “So just let me through and I’ll work my magi--”  

Adrien shook his head as Nino looked to him for permission. Both boys stood up a little taller, attempting to look a bit more unmovable as she stared them down. 

“Alya, I think I know what I’m doing. I’m happy with how things are going, and I want to savor this a little--”  

“Savor?! Are you crazy? She’s trying to get over you! Someone could show up any minute and--”  

“And what?” Nino interrupted. “He has this under control!”  

“Neither of you have anything under control!” Alya’s voice peaked.  

“Alya, I need to do this the right way. I want to get to know her better, I want to spend more time with her. I want to take things slow because I love her.”  

The three almost didn’t hear the back door open, Alya’s voice far too loud as she asked incredulously, “Wait, you love her?!”  

Thankfully, it seemed that not all powers of the cat miraculous faded away when transformed. Adrien stopped himself before he responded, catching the sound of the door before anyone else. He stiffened, his jaw feeling slightly slacker as the new person came into view. With a nudge of his elbow, Nino did as well.  

Alya was the last to realize, staring at the two boys expecting an answer before realizing that their dumbstruck faces meant something. Her eyebrows knitted together as a look of horror crossed Nino, finally causing the girl to look over her shoulder.  

“Is this a bad time? Juleka asked me to drop off some things Marinette lent her.” Luka. The boy stood awkwardly in the kitchen; a warm smile painted on his face as he slowly shut the door behind him. “She’s just upstairs, right?” Evidently, He had somehow missed the conversation just moments before.  

“Any. Minute. Agreste.” Alya whispered through gritted teeth.  

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“I really must be late more often than I think I am,” Marinette laughed, holding onto the straps of her backpack as she did so. The number of visitors to her room that morning had initially made the girl blush, but now she walked happily along with them, evidently finding humor in the fact that so many people were dedicated to getting her to school on time when she only had a two-minute walk. 

Beside her, Luka kept a casual pace as he walked with his bicycle, smiling at the girl as he hummed a tune under his breath. Every so often, the twos’ hips would bump or he’d reach for her back, filling the space that Adrien had existed in just a day prior. Together, Luka and Marinette already looked like a couple.  

He wanted to hate him, if only because that’s what every piece of media told him he should do, but Luka was just such a genuinely good guy that Adrien couldn’t manage it. Instead, there was only one person that he could blame.  

“You did this to yourself,” Alya whispered as she caught him staring at the two yet again.  

“Thanks,” he silently cursed himself for all of his preconceived notions of romance and chivalry. He should have let Alya tell her, he should have told her himself by now, he should have kissed her that very first day, he should have dropped his transformation and told her that he was Chat Noir--  

Luka’s hand brushed hers and she released a soft giggle in return.  

“Ugh,” Adrien groaned, he was an absolute idiot. The worst part about his situation was that, despite diving into battles against deadly akumas and getting injured countless times, he couldn’t bring himself to walk up to the other side of her and talk to her. The great Chat Noir, capable of constantly taking rejection from one woman but somehow unable to handle walking beside her when her attention was on someone else. God, he was needy.  

Nino silently mouthed a quick, ‘I’m sorry,’ at him.  

Adrien mouthed, ‘thank you,’ in return. At least it was better being with Nino and Alya as well, rather than being alone with Luka and Marinette. He couldn’t imagine watching young love unfold before him alone, especially when just yesterday he’d been scoping out spots for first dates and asking himself just what sort of flowers would properly convey his current level of adoration.  

“Is something wrong?” Of course, Luka had to be the one to turn around and ask. Of course, he had to catch a glimpse of Adrien’s self-deprecating look right before the blond could throw a fake smile on. Of course, Marinette had to stop as well, worry showing on her face. “You know, it feels like your rhythm might be all wrong today,” he began to reach for his guitar.  

“I’m fine!” Adrien immediately replied, smiling innocently. The last thing he needed was for Luka to play his guitar. Adrien might have been a model, but he’d watched enough movies to know how well men with guitars faired. “I’m just thinking right now, nothing else.”  

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked. “These past few days you’ve been really talkative, but today…”  

He didn’t want to look at her, at least not when he lied. “I’m just a little tired is all.”  

Marinette blinked, her mouth falling downwards sharply. Luka, however, seemed to accept the reasoning with a nod, turning to walk once again, his hand wrapping around Marinette’s to keep her moving.  

The nice thing about Luka was, he never pushed. The worst thing about Marinette was, she always did.  

Everyone kept walking, Luka engaging Marinette again as they entered the courtyard of the school. But Marinette didn’t pay Luka as much attention as before, her eyes downward as she fiddled with her phone.  

Adrien’s vibrated moments later.  

You know, if you want, I could start bringing your order to school with me instead. So you don’t have to wake up early Or walk with me If you want

He looked up to her just in time to see her say goodbye to Luka, her arms wrapping around the boy’s neck as she held him close. His arms, in turn, wrapped around her waist, holding her to him in a far too long hug before finally pulling away. Marinette grinned, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek as Luka got onto his bike.  

“Talk to you after school?” Luka asked. “I have something I want to ask you.”  

“Of course!”  

Adrien turned away from the two, turning to his phone as Nino’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.  

Alya peeked over at his screen from the other side of him, her voice comforting as she affirmed him, “I think that’s good, send it.”  

No. I love spending time with you, Marinette.

In the distance, he heard a ding, followed by a small gasp. If he were quick enough, he would have caught her smiling up from her phone at him. Instead, he looked back in time to see her begin to run towards her friends. Still, that was enough to make him sure that there was no way he’d give up.