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#*smashes glass on the ground*
strangerinthelight · 1 month
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ANOTHER ‼️
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elekid · 1 month
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look up at the sky
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sxnburst · 1 year
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"...What was that noise?" Sounded like someone crying.
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witchkingofanmar · 2 years
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I have a fucking disease and it's called wanting to grab fictional men with high ponytails by the hair and drag them around like little kids with their dolls
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chutzpahhooplah · 2 years
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Why are Dario Argento’s male leads the most useless motherfuckers in all of Europe
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purposefully-lost · 6 months
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Alex's distant and hazy but loud moments of anger vs Charlie's perfectly aware, very quiet kind of anger,,
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keeeegs · 11 months
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I ain’t no expert about Ancient Greece but I did study it at university for a bit. There was a huge war in Salami with ships etc. and one of the highest ranked in that combat was a woman. After her husband died in that war she insisted strongly to take his place and lead his part of the army into battle. The king found her amusing and allowed her, he also kept insisting she was better than most if not all of his other military leaders.
(For more details I might actually have to go home and check my notes lol)
Y A S
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bunniesanddeer · 2 months
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Touch- Pt 1
Alastor x GN!Reader
Part Two
Plot: Alastor realizes the reader is starting to get comfortable touching the other residents of the hotel, despite their discomfort with touch before. He suddenly realizes that he is not receiving any of these touches, and it annoys him.
Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, short fic.
Word Count: 1,049
Touch Pt. 1
He had never noticed it before, but now that it had been mentioned, he couldn’t stop noticing it. Every time someone leaned too close, or went to bump you, you leaned away, or shrunk in on yourself. It was a visual reaction that lit up his brain; something close to kinship. You were much like him, in the way you cringed at the slightest, unprovoked touch. Unlike himself, however, you never seemed to initiate it, either. 
Alastor could see why someone like you wouldn’t bother. You didn’t have the power to make people back off if you made it seem like you were okay with casual touches. Better to avoid them altogether!
Alastor was confused, however, when you seemed to suddenly grow more… tactile with the others. It had been just before dinner, Alastor had Niffty setting the table, and everyone was slowly gathering near the dining room. 
“Gosh, how do you even do that, Angel?” You exclaimed. Your face was colored in your bafflement and disgust, even as you let a laugh out. “That’s just, overkill!”
“Just say that you’re jealous, toots. We both know ya’ wouldn’t be able ta’ handle that,” Angel said, leaning his large frame down to wiggle his eyebrows in your face. 
You were laughing again. The sound always caught Alastor’s attention. Even down in Hell, you managed to have a very happy sounding laugh. It felt strange and out of place, but not bad, per se. (Alastor did not like to linger on the ‘why's’ of such thoughts. There was no point. The one time he had, it had spiraled out of control. Not again). 
When Alastor turned to look, he always did, not that he would admit it, your hands were on Angel's face, pushing him back with a grin. 
“Keep yourself away from me, you weirdo! You gotta have like a snake jaw to do that. I want nothing to do with it!” Your hands were still on Angel. Why? You didn’t like touch. Why were you doing it now?
That moment plagued him for a few days, especially as he noticed you touching Angel more. Were you and the effeminate fellow an item? He thought for sure that Angel’s tastes swung the other direction. His theory was smashed to smithereens when he saw you and Husker later on.
You were helping Husker clean smashed glass from the ground, listening to the cat-demon talk. It was often Husker listening to others, so the sight cough Alastor’s attention. He lingered off to the side, and watched, as he was wont to do.
Something the demon said made your eyebrows furrow, and sympathy flit across your face. Alastor watched your lips move, as if you were speaking softly. Then your arm was across Husker’s shoulder, a soft squeeze pulling him against you, for only a moment.
The moment was said and done in mere seconds, but it idled in Alastor’s memory. He could not fathom why things had changed. It only got worse as he realized you were doing it with near everyone in the hotel. Charlie got soft shoulder pats, and light hugs. Vaggie received fist-bumps, (what a strange gesture), and some small hugs. Angel got hip checked and often pulled into impromptu wrestling matches, (he could always hear Angel complain about them, but he never bothered to try and stop you. Maybe the spider didn’t hate it?) Sir Pentious, the cowardly snake, was allowed to pick you up and move you sometimes. Niffty got head pats, and she got picked up by you, sometimes. Husker received the least amount of physical contact, but there were moments where the cat’s tail would brush up against you, or you would squeeze his hand.
Over the course of a few weeks, Alastor couldn’t fathom why everyone else in the hotel was receiving these tender touches from you? He couldn’t tell what the change was. You were still your chipper self, and you helped out as normal. Nothing had changed except the way you interacted with the others. And then it hit him. Others. Your interactions with him hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Your smiles were always soft, and you still laughed at his jokes. You still got spooked when he snuck up on you, and you still shied away when his anger made his form change. He couldn’t spot a single difference! It was after a particularly long day of dealing with Vox, that things hit a tipping point.
Alastor had just gotten back to the hotel, having torn apart goons sent to bother him. Vox was always pulling stupid things like that, but it was more annoying when his technique was suddenly being ridiculed on every screen in Hell! He had managed to send a nasty message to Vox at the end of it all, but it remained a dampener on his day. And then he had spotted you, milling about in the lobby.
“Good afternoon!” He had practically yelled, forcing exuberance into his voice. “How are you this fine afternoon, dear?”
You whipped around, a smile already on your face. “Hi, Alastor! I’m doing okay.” Then a wince washed over your expression. “Saw that stuff on TV, earlier. Hope you got back at him, for it.”
Ah, of course you would mention it. Always worried about how others feel. (He would tell himself that it meant nothing. Because it did. Mean nothing, that is). 
“Of course I did, my dear! The belligerent fool will remember today as a failure, for sure!” He had finally made it over towards you, and had moved to pull you against his side, when you ducked under his arms, stepping a few feet back. 
But you just kept talking to him, like you hadn't moved! The static of his power surging made your words blur in his mind. He couldn’t hear a single word as his mind raced. How dare you? Was he not good enough? Why did each of the others get to touch you now, but he was a problem?
It was the frown on your face that pulled him back down. “Are you okay,” you asked, your face full of concern for him. It didn’t help. 
When Alastor had finally waived away your worries, he had shadow-stepped to his room. He needed to think.
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the-modern-typewriter · 5 months
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Hi! Would you be able to do a hero x villain scene with a villain that's used to trapping their opponents socially but the hero would rather just ignore that and punch them in the face, and the villain is kind of in love and kind of murderous?
The villain staggered back at the force of the punch with a groan of pain. They cupped a hand to their bloody nose.
The villain's various soldiers and lackeys immediately moved to restrain the hero.
"No." The villain held out their other hand. "No."
The lackeys froze, uncertain.
The hero, well-prepared for the possibility of fight, paused too. They shook out their fist, shoulders squared.
"Nice left hook," the villain said, straightening slowly. When they dropped their hand, the break had already healed, leaving only the blood.
"Fuck you."
"Yes, that might help your anger issues."
The hero scoffed. "I don't have anger issues, I just don't like being backed into a corner. I told you what would happen."
"Mm. That you did." The villain's head tilted. "Bold move."
"Clear communication. Do I need to do it some more?"
The villain grinned, letting their blood drip grotesque and feral across their teeth. They took a swaggering step forward, even as they neatly adjusted their outfit and rumpled hair back to the veneer of polite society. It didn't reach their eyes. Their eyes had that wild quality too, burning bright and fierce with something that the hero couldn't quite read.
"People generally prefer me when I keep things civil," the villain said. "It's neater. Safer for everyone involved."
"You mean, people normally cave because they're scared of you?"
"And you're not."
"If there's going to blood, let there be blood. I won't be bullied. Certainly not by the likes of you."
The villain laughed, a soft and rumbling danger. They swiped their tongue across their teeth, cleaning the blood away, and closed the distance with another step.
Apparently, they hadn't learned the dangers of getting too close.
The hero swung.
That time, the villain dodged, driving their knee deep into the hero's gut.
The hero doubled over, wheezing.
The villain caught a fistful of their hair, using the grip to smash the hero's face in one startlingly deft movement, before tipping the hero's head back before the blood splattered across the floor.
The whole room had gone quiet; focused in on the two of them. Someone had cut the music.
The villain grinned again. "So pretty."
The hero spat blood at them, but the villain didn't seem to mind. In the next instant, the hero had wrenched themselves free with an expert move.
The two of them circled.
The villain did not have a reputation for violence, or at least not for getting their hands dirty. They were a sleek monster, crafted of fine clothes and the clink of glasses and clever words in the shadowy backrooms that ruled the world.
"You're right," the villain said. "I do prefer less...crude games, than this. We're a civilized species. We should know better. Do not mistake my distaste for incapability, though."
The hero snarled. "Silvered words doesn't make what you do less ugly."
"A moral high ground doesn't make you less of a brute, gorgeous."
"I'm not a brute, you condescending-"
"-temper, temper." The villain's voice was a purr. "Have I struck a nerve?"
The hero lunged.
The villain dodged.
They circled again, more evenly matched than the hero had expected. They'd thought a hard hit, the possibility of real danger, would reveal the villain's sniveling heart. The cowardice at the core of so many powerful, evil people.
"You owe me an apology," the villain said. "I was having a perfectly lovely time. If you give me one now, like a good little hero, this doesn't have to get...unpleasant."
"Your face is unpleasant. Everything about you and what you do is unpleasant. I'd rather not lie."
The villain's eyes flashed, a mix of rage and desire. Then, their power lashed out. The windows shattered. People screamed. People fell.
The hero stared around the room, horrified.
"Far be it from me to deny a guest," the villain said, drawing their power back to themselves. "Let there be blood."
The fight escalated from there.
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dotster001 · 4 months
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When You Escape Him; Octavinelle
Summary: Yandere Octavinelle boys x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.
CW: yandere, dark content, murder, threats against reader, drugging, injury to reader, mafia shit, this one feels darker, so read at your own risk, Azul's part is the tamest, so take that as you will
A/N: As promised, I'm going to be doing this one regularly. Hopefully gonna get these out on Sundays.
Heartslaybul Savannahclaw Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC Staff
Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.
"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."
You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.
Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.
And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.
In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.
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You were lucky. In so many ways. Every single day you were grateful. Grateful that you been at your winter home, which was on land. Grateful that the child he'd found had been human. Grateful that the twins had had to go home early for “family business”.
You would never have had your window otherwise.
And seven years later, you were still grateful. Particularly to the Sunset Savannah, for quietly taking you and your son in as citizens, and legally changing your names, all under the table. 
Your son was starting first grade tomorrow, so you'd spent the day shopping for supplies, eating treats that you'd splurged on to celebrate, chatting about dreams for the future. 
The sun had gone down, and you'd shifted a bag to your hip to unlock the door, only for the door to slowly creak open. You pushed your son behind you, peeking into your darkened apartment. You quickly noticed the absolute wreckage inside, the windows broken, tables flipped, tv smashed, pillows torn; anything that could be broken, was broken.
You turned to your son, pressing a finger to your lips. He looked scared, but nodded. You grabbed his hand, and tip toed towards the stairwell. You made it down one flight of stairs before you saw twin shadows. You had the advantage of seeing them first, so you turned and tiptoed your way to the roof, hastily typing a message to Emergency L. You said a silent prayer as you pushed the door open, immediately hearing cackling as they bounded up the stairs behind you.
If you could just block the door until help arrived…
But the roof was swarmed with large men in black suits. You never stood a chance.
After an uncomfortable ride in a limo with the Leech twins, who were trying really hard to get your son to call them “Uncle”, followed by an underwater breathing potion shoved down your throat (your son's was mixed in a smoothie), and an even more uncomfortable escort back to Azul’s undersea branch of the Monstro Lounge, you found yourself in a very familiar situation. It'd been a while since you'd been in this chair in the VIP room. Last time, you'd traded your life away, believing Azul would find a way home for you. You really should have read the fine print…
“Mister?” Your son tugged on Floyd's sleeve.
Floyd grinned. “That's not my name.”
“U-uncle Floyd?” Floyd nodded happily. “Can I have a glass of water?”
“Daddy will be here in a sec. He'll get you some water.”
Floyd seemed happy to entertain your son, meanwhile Jade quietly snickered from the spot next to you where he was ensuring you stayed seated.
The door slammed open, and you didn't dare turn to look.
“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?” Azul boomed, and you heard your son release a squeak in fear.
“You were very busy with work. We didn't want to disturb you,” Jade said, the smile clear in his voice.
A tentacle wrapped around your stomach as Azul made his way to his desk.
“I should fire both of you for your impertinence.”
“Ah, but then we'd have to take Shrimpy and baby tako with us,” Floyd guffawed.
“Don't even joke about that,” Azul spat, finally in a place where you couldn't avoid looking at him. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, just with more bags under his eyes. The tentacle wrapped around your middle tightened as he stared at you, then he looked at your son, another tentacle moving to smooth the boy's hair. He flinched, but you'd long since learned that sometimes Azul's tentacles had a mind of their own; they continued petting his head.
“How would you like to stay with your Grandma for a while?” He finally asked.
“Grandma?” 
“Yes. Your parents have to work some things out. So Uncle Floyd and Uncle Jade are going to take you to stay with Grandma.”
“My grandma is from a different world…”
“You have another Grandma,” Azul smiled wickedly. “You see,” the tentacle turned his head to face you, “someone has been lying to you. I'm your father. And they stole you from me, because they are a selfish, mean, person.”
You moved to stand, but the tentacle, and Jade's grip, both became crushing, and you froze in place. Your son's eyes flickered with doubt, but saying something now would give you a black eye and a traumatized son.
“I'm your father,” Azul smiled softly, moving closer and gently taking his hands. That's the smile that made you sign your contract.
“We'll see you soon. And then we'll be a proper family. Okay?”
The boy nodded and was quickly walked out by Jade and Floyd. Azul moved behind his desk, as though he had not a care in the world. He pulled out a familiar piece of glowing paper, and looked at it, before looking at you in mock disapproval.
“It seems you are in extreme violation of your contract, Y/N Ashengrotto.”
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The only way you could have ever made it to the surface, was with help. Going to Jade was a long shot. But he'd grinned. It sounded entertaining to him, watching Floyd hunt you down. It would provide a couple hours of fun for him. 
What Jade hadn't anticipated was how long you'd spent preparing for this opportunity. 
And now it had been six years since you'd escaped the clutches of the ocean. Your son was coloring in the living space while you cooked. 
The door splintered into a million pieces with a loud bang. And there he was. His eyes as cold as the day you'd first met him, when you'd watched him fight off a crowd of angry contracted students.
Your son looked up, instantly crying in total fear.  You wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from your angry ex husband. Or at least you tried to. But, just like the man he resembled, he was a tall boy. It was hard to hide your gentle giant. 
“Hey squirt,” Floyd said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He leaned in, his face inches from your son's face, scanning him, seeing the traces of himself in the boy. “How bout you come with me?”
“I-” he looked up at you, then back at Floyd. “I don't wanna.”
Floyd's eyes narrowed. He stood back up, grabbing you by the jaw, with a growl.
“Bet ya think you're real funny, doncha Shrimpy? Turning my family against me? Ya did it with Jade too. Thing is,” he scowled, biting his lip before continuing, “if I kill the kid, I know I'll never get you back again.”
Your breath caught in your throat. 
“Jade,” you breathed, but Floyd threw you to the ground.
“Don't you dare say his name!” He screamed, moving to grab you again, but your son stood in his way.
“You don't get to talk about him! You killed my brother!” He screamed, trying to bob and weave around the boy. Finally he pulled out his pen, whispering a spell, and your son collapsed.
“No!” You screamed, crawling over to him, but Floyd blasted you back against the wall.
“He's fine. Just sleeping til we get home,” he said, irritation at having to even explain it clear in his voice.
He stalked over to you, and you tried to scoot back, but winced. You were pretty sure you had broken something.
He shoved you back, then hovered over your body, pinning your hands above your head. He nuzzled into your neck, his teeth grazing your jugular.
“If I ripped your throat out, you couldn't leave me again.”
“Please don't,” you breathed out, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes.
“No promises,” he said, the smile returning to his voice. “We'll see how well you behave.”
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You'd found a spy among the ranks of Jade's men. As much as you believed that Jade probably already knew, you'd used the poor soul’s situation to your advantage. You wouldn't tell “Papa Leech” about him, if he got his boss to get you and your son an escape. You pointed out how if you escaped, and stayed hidden, Jade would essentially be out of the picture, forever weakening the Leech family.
It took lots of negotiation, and some 4d chess on your part to out maneuver the near genius that was Jade, but eventually, you were set up in a small home in the sea just off the coast of  the kingdom of heroes. 
They'd even started prepping for when your son was old enough to start safely taking human transformation potions. A moray eel mer stood out no matter where he lived, so the sooner they could set you up on land, the better. 
That spy had left that job, and was now your regular contact when they were passing along information. You were scheduled to meet him today. He'd told you to bring your son. You hoped this meant you were finally going to discuss leaving the ocean. You'd dressed up your boy, putting a wig on him to hide the very Leech-ish hair he was unfortunate enough to be sporting. A pair of sunglasses on both of you, and you were ready. 
You arrived at the fancy restaurant, giving the host the fake name that you used for your contact. He directed you to a room in the back, telling you to lock the door behind you.
You opened the door in the back, gently ushering your son in as you turned to lock the door. You turned back, and smiled at your contact, sitting down next to your son, in the seat across from him. 
Then your contact fell out of his chair.
“Aw, too bad,” you heard an upsettingly familiar voice say from the dark corner of the room.
You grabbed your son's arm, preparing to swim away, but it took less than a beat for Jade to torpedo through the water, and grab you, throwing you over his shoulder. 
“No!” Your son cried, banging his fists against Jade.
Jade snickered, before calling out, “Floyd. Enough hiding. Time to play with your beloved nephew.”
Floyd swam out from under the table, sighing heavily. 
“If I have to. Just make sure you actually get Shrimpy on the right path this time, or Pops is gonna lose it.”
Your son was snatched around the middle, then dragged out of the room, your anguished cries doing nothing. Jade swam back to the seat your now dead contact was sitting in, slamming you down into it, binding you with a spell. 
“Hello, my love. How was your vacation?” He asked with a close eyed smile.
You struggled against the binds, and he sighed in mock disappointment.
“Oh dear, I thought you'd be happy to see me.”
He wiped away an invisible tear. Then he reached over to the plate on the table. 
“Jade, please. Where are you taking my son?” You pleaded.
He raised a brow, his face the very image of innocence, as he rolled his fork in the pasta on the plate.
“You mean, my son?” He asked. “He's going somewhere safe.”
“Jade, promise me you won't hurt him-”
“I would never! Do you think I'm a cruel beast?”
You didn't feel safe answering that question.
“While you were gone, I did some thinking. I was asking a lot of you. You're just a weak magicless human in a very scary environment. On top of that, I wanted you to be a parent, and a perfect spouse. You need some help.”
He grinned. “So I did some experimenting. Open wide!” He pressed the fork to your mouth, but you kept your lips sealed tight. “Don't worry, my pearl, you won't feel a thing.”
You had no doubt of that. Whatever was in that food wouldn't hurt you, not in a way you would feel. But whatever it did do would be far worse. You just knew it, especially after all this time he had to think about  just how to make you behave.
“Do you ever wish to see your son again?”
You slowly nodded, your throat closing up.
“Do you want your son's grandfather to be put in charge of your discipline?”
You shook your head, and Jade's smile widened as he pressed the fork back to your lips. This time, you slowly opened your mouth and took a bite of the pasta. It tasted good, at least. That was your last thought as the world around you morphed and warped, the only thing you could truly focus on was a sharp toothed smile.
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jasmines-library · 2 months
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👀 'tis me, i loved the other one so much ❤️❤️❤️, and am back with this wAcky idea muahahaaa:
batboy (you choose) x villain!reader
they are supposed to hate each other because of circumstances (you choose) BUT they got caught in a fight and are working together. after that fight, batboy finds that reader is actually a HUGE softie, and has never really had relationships, and when batboy does find out, he teases reader to embarrassment. they end up falling in love they kiss and fluffy things, under the moonlight, but then reader goes spiraling. like- is it safe to do this? is it okay to show weakness like that? will they put batboy in danger? and they are on the verge of a panic attack. they run away from batboy, which breaks both of them 🥹. reader avoids batboy for months, not really coping with their feelings, having panic attacks every night and all. and then one night, batboy sees reader fighting in an alley. reader takes out the thugs quickly and batboy approaches, and he can see through reader's eyes a whirlwind of emotions and it breaks his heart... and then they somehow make up and a lot of fluff pleeasee <3 (omg it's not totally angst 🥹)
ilyyy muah! (platonic ofc 😘)
Bullet With Butterfly Wings
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Note: This is so cute! I love this idea and I hope you like it. I just wanted to make a side note and say that i am queer, and whilst I am very happy to write romantically for the batboys, It may not be super great (which is why most of my work is platonic tbh) so apologies in advance for that. I also chose to write for Jay so I hope that's okay!
Warnings: Canon typical violence, Minor injuries, self doubt, manipulative parent (bane) but only brief, swearing teasing, kissing but no smut (SFW)
Word Count: 5k (it took me 40 years but it was worth it)
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Jason Todd was your enemy.
That is what you have always been told. It had been ingrained in you since you were very young. Batman and his band of proteges were a nuisance. Bothers. Vermin that needed to be exterminated from Gotham. Your father had countless rivalries: and that had extended to you. Your whole life was dedicated to training to cause havoc and trying to remove Gothams vigilantes.
Jason Todd was your enemy. And you despised him. He despised you too. Not that you cared, he had every right to. Your father had broken his many times.
He had always been tricky. He slunk around the shadows and always put a stop to your fun. His brothers weren’t much better. So when he was killed… you should have been ecstatic. You should have clenched your fists in rage when he returned…but instead you felt…lost.
Jason Todd was your enemy. So why were you helping him…?
You had heard the commotion from nearly a block over. The cacophony of shattering glass, the ricochet of bullets followed by the screeching of the building's alarm: you were over there speedily, tugging your pistols from your holsters as you weaved towards the orange glow of the flickering lights.
The building was completely destroyed. The windows were smashed in, spidering where the bullets had passed through them or jagged where what looked like a brick had been lobbed into it. The frames of the windows were completely broken too, splintering under the brute force of the coloured bandits that had weasled their way inside. Dressed in unsubtle colours, they seemed to be searching for something; they overturned desks and sent an array of papers scattering to the ground. It was that or they were just looking to have fun. You smirked, taking a step closer to the building ready to join them but then you caught a flash of the triangular emblem they had haphazardly spray painted on the back of their jackets and cursed. Safe to say that they weren’t going to tolerate you being near them. Your father had royally pissed them off. More than once. But who were you to back down from a fight?
Shouldering your weapons, you stepped closer crouching to try and keep out of their sight. It was going to be much easier for you if you could take them by surprise. Much more entertaining for you too. Though it seemed that luck wasn’t on your side because one of them, a tall girl with blonde hair she had tied back in a braid, turned her head just before you could dash out of the way and with a cry of your alias, all heads turned to you.
There was no use hiding now your cover was blown so with your guns raised high you aimed and fired. They were quick to retaliate and with their the sheer number of them it was difficult to predict their movements and stay out of their line of fire despite all of your training. The whole ordeal was a mess, bullets and punches flew left, right and centre. The whole ordeal only got a fuck ton more complicated when he arrived. The knight in fucking black and red armour. He perched on top of the roof, teetering dangerously to the edge, before landing on his feet only a few metres away, no doubt with a smug grin hidden behind his red mask. It didn’t do him much good. You knew exactly who he was and it hadn’t taken you much to figure it out. But perhaps that was because you were much more perceptive than most. Perhaps it was because you spent far too much time thinking about him.
Red Hood stood towering over you, glaring at you through his brows. He tutted. “Y/N Bane. Should have known you would be here.”
“And miss the chance to beat your pretty face?” You mocked. “You should know better.”
Red Hood rolled his eyes, shifting his weight as he reached for his weapon. He looked as though he was going to say something; another jest or sly remark, but the moment was ruined when one of the bandits ran up behind him bearing a weapon he intended to plunge into the vigilantes side. However he was much quicker, twisting around to grab the boy by his wrists and flinging him over his shoulder. He landed with a grunt before trying to grab at Red Hood's legs. You beat him to it though, landing a harsh blow to his back and sending him slumping back to the ground.
That seemed to set the rest of them off and all of a sudden the pair of you were surrounded. The street quickly became a flurry of punches and rounds of bullets that lodged themselves in the crackstone bricks or ricocheted off of the metal pipes with a cloud clang. None of them found their mark. Strange for a group of people who wielded their weapons so confidently.
It seemed to be going well. Some sort of unseen rivalry seemed to bloom between you and Red Hood, trying to see who could take the most thugs down. Those that didn’t flee dropped like flies. But you were outnumbered. And even though the pair of you were twice as skilled as them combined, you began to find it difficult to push them back.
Darting into the building to shelter from their hail of bullets, you managed to take down the pair that were hurtling things at Hood. And then it all fell silent.
Exhaling heavily, you wiped the sweat from your brow and holstered your weapons after checking the coast was clear. Smirking, you slid out of the doorway ready to jest to the vigilante. But he seemed to be nowhere to be seen. You rolled your eyes. Coward.
“Given up already?” You jested. “Honestly for a man of your size it thought that you would last a lot longer than-”
Your stomach sank when you turned the corner and saw the vigilante hunched up against the wall, his one hand pressed firmly into the wall, the other pushing hard up against his right side. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath, his back still turned away from you. You furrowed your brow, taking a hesitant step toward him. It was then that you noticed the crimson that oozed between his fingers.
“Here to finish me off?” He spat, words laced with a thick and potent venom.
“I’m thinking about it.”
He turned toward you, his body jolting in agony as he twisted. From there you could see the two small but ragged circles that jutted out from his suit; one above his left hip and the other a few inches to the right of it. Only one of them seemed to have an exit wound.
“Get on with it then.” He grumbled trying to keep his composure. You could see the way his legs trembled as he tried to keep his composure. “They’re not coming any time soon.” He gestured to his coms. The screen was blank. Broken. “Comms are down.” his voice was torn up by a sickening cough. “But I'd get it over with quickly so you can leave before they catch your trail.”
Your fingers twitched as you reached for your pistol. Instinct. You should finish him off. It would make your father proud. It would end your years of resentment and it would bring you oh so much glorious fame. He was already practically cowering on the ground; an easy kill. Jason Todd was your enemy. You should have pulled the trigger. But instead, you found yourself darting forward as Jason as his body careened forwards.
~
When Jason awoke, he did so in a panic. His eyes were wide and his heart pounded in his chest. It was only when he tried to push himself up and was met by a sudden pinch in his side that everything came back to him. He didn’t recognise his surroundings. The walls were decorated in artwork that he didn’t recognise, and he was laying in a bed with streets that belonged to a stranger. He scrambled for his pistols only to realise that they weren’t there. And that his mask had been removed.
“Lay back down, you idiot.” You scolded from across the room. “Your wounds are still healing, And relax.” You gestured to his mask and the top half of his suit that you had folded up and laid on a chair. It was then that he realised that he was not wearing his shirt and that the eternity of his torso was wrapped securely in bandages. “I knew who you were.”
Jason had to do a double take. But he soon turned sour. “What the fuck am I doing here?”
You scoffed, placing the glass of water you had brought in on the bedside table. “A thank you would be nice.”
“I’m serious” he narrowed his eyes on you.
You faltered, eyeing him cautiously and pursing your lips. Truthfully, you had struggled to get him back to your apartment. You had to move fast with the amount of blood he had lost. You were glad that he lost consciousness when he did because although you should have left him there to rot… you couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him writhe beneath you as you dug a pair of tweezers under his skin to dig out the bullet.
The vigilante eyed you cautiously, still confused as to why you had decided to drag him all the way back here. It couldn’t have been easy for you. He watched as you dug around in one of the draws in your bedroom. He had never seen you properly without your suit on. And he could fully see your face now it wasn’t obscured by the black and white mask that sat comfortably around your eyes. Jason stared for a little too long and found his thoughts wandering a little too far for his liking. He was supposed to loathe you. He was supposed to think you were vile. But yet again…you were the furthest thing from what he had convinced himself to believe.
“You’re staring.” You could feel his eyes on you.
Jason’s cheeks flushed and he turned his gaze away. Rolling your eyes you tossed him a bottle of painkillers that you had pulled out of the mess of your draw. They rattled as they hit the side of the plastic container when he caught them.
“Take some of those. They should help with the ache.
He gave you an unamused look, hand hovering on the seal.
“Relax, bird boy. If I wanted you dead you would be.”
Jason popped two in his mouth hesitantly and swallowed them down with the water you had left on the side. A loud buzzing sounded from out of the room. You disappeared briefly out of the doorway. Not being able to see you made him nervous, but you returned soon with two items in your hand. The first, his phone and the source of the incessant buzzing, and the second his comlink which was no longer dark like it was before but instead was lit up around the crack on the screen. You handed the two to him.
“You might want to let them know that you’re alive. That damn thing’s been going off all night.” You told him.
“You fixed it.” Jason gawped, turning the small device over in his hands.
You shrugged. “Had to make sure the GPS was off. Besides, I had nothing better to do.”
After sending a quick message to reassure his family that he was alive, Jason frowned at you. “Why are you helping me?”
You faltered. Why were you helping him? It went completely against everything you had been taught. But you hadn’t really thought much about what you were doing. It was like your body was on autopilot, moving without thought of feeling and just following someone’s orders blindly. You shrugged at him. “It just felt like the right thing to do.”
Jason practically laughed. “But doesn’t that go against your entire image?”
“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Todd.”
The vigilante smirked, the corners of his lips creeping upward. Snarky. He liked you. “Then perhaps I should get to know you more.”
~
No matter how hard he tried, Jason couldn’t take his mind off you. Even once he had long returned home, he couldn’t get the image of your face out of his thoughts. There was something about you that was just so enthralling to him. And that bothered him greatly. His hours passed by quickly as he thought of you. What you had done. And god he was so conflicted. But the part of him that seemed to want to inch closer to you won.
After struggling to pull on his hoodie, no thanks to the dull ache that still emimated from his wounds, he slipped on his shoes and trudged down the stairs. He was just about to slip out of the door when a voice stopped him.
“Jay?” Dick asked, scowling at his brother. “Where are you going?”
“Out?”
“Again? You’ve only just got back after completely wiping off the radar and now you’re sneaking off?”
“I wasn’t sneaking.”
Dick cocked his brow.
The younger Wayne sighed and with a roll of his eyes told him defensively “It’s nothing, Grayson.”
Jason slipped out of the door.
Even though he had only been there once, Jason seemed to practically have the route to your apartment engraved in his mind. After all, he had walked in over and over again in his head as he thought about returning to see you. Although he was confident on how to get there, when he stood in front of the door with his fist poised to rap against the panel, a very rare occurrence happened to Jason. He was nervous. His stomach fluttered and churned underneath the bandages and then the door flew open.
And there you stood. You looked more awake than before. Perhaps because you had actually managed to get some sleep since he had left. It had been a well needed rest. The ache in your bones from the previous night had nearly vanished once you awoke. However, similarly to the vigilante, when you awoke you too had found your mind wandering back to the boy you had dragged back into your home.
There he was. Standing in your doorway.
“Todd?” You darkened your brow. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I came to get to know you.”
Gripping his wrist you pulled him inside and shut the door behind you.
~
You and Jason had grown close very quickly. After he had slunk up to your apartment, the pair of you exchanged numbers. This led to many rendezvous and you began to actually enjoy spending time with him. He was an intricate person. He had so many layers to him, each one more interesting than the next. He had also discovered that there was much more to you than your facade let on. You were kind, funny, and deeply compassionate despite your history. It was ironic really. But that made Jason love you even more. He loved the way you smiled with your eyes and the way they lit up when you saw something you adored. He loved the curves of your cheekbones, your nose, your jawline and your figure. He had grown to love your laugh and the way your voice softened when you were tired. He loved all of you. But he wasn’t sure if you so much as even liked him back.
It would be a complete lie to say didn’t. Slowly, the pair of you began to open up to each other. You knew little about his past and hearing him open up about it brought tears to your eyes. That was the first time that you had hugged him. Wrapping him up in your arms seemed to come almost naturally and despite the fact that Jason wasn’t a huge people person, he found himself leaning into your embrace. The two of you began to learn things about each other very quickly. You would tell him something and he would exchange the favour. Countless hours were spent as the two of you messaged back and forth or lounged around on your couch as you talked over the movies you tried to watch but failed because you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him. He was smart and he was kind and it was nice to have someone to really open up to. You had never really had that before Jason. Of course, when he found out about that and your lack of relationships, he couldn’t help but tease you. He thought it was adorable the way that your cheeks flushed and you shrunk into yourself.
Tonight, you were sitting on a hillside. It was a little far out of the city, but Jay had insisted that it was going to be worth it. Reluctantly, but with a little grin, you had followed him up the small hill.
The view was truly magnificent. From here, you had a view of the entire city. You could see all of the lights flickering throughout the skyscrapers and the neon lights of the signs as they reflected off of the dark windows. But what was even more magical were the stars. They twinkled above you brighter than a thousand diamonds all at once. It made your breath catch in your throat. With all of the light pollution in Gotham, it was hard to see the stars. But out here you could see them in all of their beauty. So as you lay back in the grass, basking in the moonlight while Jay pointed out the constellations, you twisted your body to sit face him. He returned the motion, looking at you with gentle eyes and a smile touching his lips.
“Thank you for bringing me here, Jay.” You told him. “It truly is beautiful here.”
He nodded, speaking softly. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’ve never seen so many stars.” You said, inching yourself up so that you were sitting. “Though I suppose that’s because I’ve never really been out of Gotham.”
Jason raised an eyebrow. This was something new. “No?”
You shook your head as he too sat up. “Never. My father never let me.”
This surprised the vigilante somewhat, but he remained silence and let you continue.
“He’s… protective. And somewhat controlling.” you trailed off. “I know he just wants me to follow in his footsteps but for my entire life I’ve been following his command blindly. It’s always what he wants. He’s never once stopped and thought about what I want.”
Jason reached out a delicate hand to brush away a stray hair, tucking it back behind your ear. “And what is it that you want?”
“This.” You breathed out.
Tenderly, he leaned forward to interlock his lips with yours. They were soft and gentle and he kissed you with a gentle amorous touch. His hands brushed the back of your hair, tangling in your locks as you returned the kiss, leaning into his touch.
~
Being with Jason was more than you could ever have imagined. It was a different kind of love. Something you had never really experienced before. It was filled with gentle exchanges of touches, reassurances of your love for each other, gifts and small trinkets that you would buy for each other when it reminded you of them and so so much more. With Jay, you could just be yourself and he loved you for it. There was no more trying to keep up a facade that perhaps was much more of an act influenced by your father than you thought it was. Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
You and Jay had been going out for a few months when it happened. You had returned home after a late night stroll with him to find your father sitting on your couch. He was angry, face contorting with dark lines when he narrowed his eyes at you.
“Dad?” You asked, trying to hide the evidence of your outing from him. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t play coy with me.” He spat standing to tower above you. “I know exactly that’s going on with you and that little bird.”
He took a step forward, intending to intimidate you but you held your ground.
“How long did you think you could keep that hidden?”
“I don’t see what that’s any of your business.” You grit your teeth.
“I am your father. I made you who you are. Without me you would be nothing.” His words dripped with venom as he backed you into the wall.
“That’s exactly the point! You've never once stopped to consider what I want!”
Bane's face hardened and he leaned forward to speak to you in a scarily hushed tone and he gripped your wrists so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise later. “Now you listen here you insolent little girl. Either you stop running around with Bruce Wayne’s little protege or I will end him and I will make you watch. You understand.”
You didn’t meet his eyes. Instead you found a spot on the carpet to burn your gaze onto.
“I said, do you understand?” He raised his voice and you could feel your heart pounding against your rib cage.
“Yes, Father.” You admitted with defeat. He released his firm grip.
“Good.” Bane moved back towards the door. “Because I mean it.”
Without another word he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.
You crumpled to the floor, your body wracked with sobs that forced their way out from your ragged gasps.
And then your phone buzzed. His name displayed brightly on the screen.
Jason: Hey baby. D’you get in okay?
It was one of his usual messages. He sent them often when he couldn’t walk you back to your door. Sometimes even when he had walked you back and made sure you got inside with a parting kiss. You couldn’t blame him for being cautious. You had seen eachother fretting for the other when you came home with injuries. It was normal for Jason. But now it felt so wrong.
Opening the message your fingers hesitated over the keypad as you thought about your fathers warning. Was he right? Were you putting Jay at risk. Would it just be better if you. No. You tried to clear the thought from your mind.
You: Fine. Sorry for keeping you waiting.
You replied, waiting for the small bubble to finish typing.
Jason: you sure you’re okay baby?
You: of course. Why wouldn’t I be?
Jason: No reason. I just had this feeling.
You: Oh? Well I’m fine I promise. Night Jay.
You were in fact, not fine.
~
The next time you saw Jason your heart was racing. And not in the good way. In the “I think I’m going to hurl” way.
You had been thinking about him nonstop. About how much joy he brought you. How you could never fathom leaving him. But Bane's words kept replaying in your head. Seeing him had brought a part of your old self back. The part that you had long since tried to move past. Was being with Jason making you weak? You had told him so much that it felt as if he knew you inside and out. Was it okay to show vulnerability to him like that? You had been thinking a million thoughts at once. But the one that stuck out most to you was ‘am I putting Jason in danger?’ Would your selfishness of wanting to be with him cost him his life. You had tried to tell yourself that you were being silly. That Jason could handle himself. He was the infamous Red Hood. But you knew Jay. And you knew Bane. So you knew that if he put his mind to it, Jason Todd would die.
And that was why you needed to leave.
When Jason arrived he greeted you with a bright grin that only made your stomach sink deeper into your abyss of guilt. You took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremble of your body and the tears in your eyes. You could not bring yourself to return his mannerisms.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” He frowned as he approached you.
“Jay…. I-I” your voice caught in your throat: a reminder of how little you wanted this to happen. But you had to. For his sake “I can’t do this anymore.”
Jason’s face dropped. “W-what?”
You honestly don’t think you had ever seen him look more hurt. Another wound to add to the collection.
“I can’t do this anymore.” You gestured between the two of you. “ I love you, Jason. But I can’t carry on being with you.”
You took a step back and Jason reached out to try and touch you but stopped, cutting himself off short. “Y/N what’s happened? Please tell me baby. What have I done wrong?”
“Nothing, Jay.” You shook your head, blinking away the tears that fell. “That’s the worst part. Nothing at all.”
~
You avoided Jason Todd like the plague after that. No matter how much you mourned his face and playful smile. His flurries of texts and calls went unanswered until they slowly thinned out. Never stopping, but as the summer turned to autumn, there were less and less of them.
You could tell it broke him as much as it broke you.
You hardly left the house after that fateful day. Everything seemed to remind you of him and his stupid voice. You didn’t want to run the risk of seeing him because you knew the second you did you would break down again completely.
Your father stopped by occasionally. He would tell you that he was proud of you but you knew he was just trying to manipulate you back into his little copy of himself. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t go back there, but after a short while you grew desperate. Perhaps it was because you had grown bored of staring at the same blank spot in the wall and the empty space on your bed, or perhaps it was because you secretly hoped that you would catch a glimpse of that infamous red suit.
It seemed that your wishes do come true.
You heard the fighting from around the corner. The cacophony of fists finding their marks. When you rounded the corner you saw him. The red of his suit outlined by the dark of the black to contrast. Your first thought was to run. To bolt back down the alleyway. But you weren’t a coward. You had had enough of hiding. You longed to see him and this was your chance. Red Hood was loosing.
With one swift action, you leaped towards the thugs grabbing one and sending her careening towards the ground. Red Hood had to do a double take when he saw the flash of your suit in the light. But there was no doubt that it was you. After months you had appeared.
Motivated by you appearance it didn’t take long of the two of you to take out the thugs. And when the last one dropped to the ground. Your first thought was to run. But then he said your name and you were glued in place. God you had longed to hear that voice.
“Y/N? Y/N please look at me” you had never heard so much softness in Jason’s voice before. He too was scared.
He was right behind you. Close enough to touch. You could sense him. His hands itching to reach out and gather you up in his arms.
Slowly you turned around to face him and your gaze met his for the first time in months. And his heart wanted to break. Jason had always been good at reading people, but he could see the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your gaze.
“I'm sorry.” You blurted out.
Jay hummed. Although he would never admit how much he had hurt during your absence, he had a feeling that you weren’t not thinking properly and had likely been influenced by someone else. The fear in your eyes confirmed his suspicions. “I know.” Jason wanted to reach out and snatch you up to pull into his embrace. “I know it was your father.”
You felt as if the whole world had been lifted off of your chest when he breathed out those words.
“Truly, I didn’t want to do it, Jay. But he threatened to- I couldn’t let him hurt you.” Your voice broke and your lips trembled as your eye filled with tears. And that was the final straw for the vigilante. He took another step forward and wrapped you up in a tight hug. He had missed you so much.
“Shh.” He hushed. “I forgive you.”
You sniffled looking up at him. “Really?”
“Of course I do.” He nodded, tucking your head under his chin. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me too.” You muttered.
“So what do you say?” He asked. “You want to give this another go?”
“If you’ll have me.”
“Oh darling, I would trade the world for one night with you.”
And with that, Jason Todd leaned down and kissed you once more.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
BATFAM TAGS:
@hearts4robs
@hell-o-kittys
@xxrougefangxx
@aestheticdasies
@mamapucket
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
side note in case it bothers anyone: I'm somewhat aware that Bane has a daughter canonically, which is sort of why I went with him. If you wanted to you could interpret this as the reader also being created in a lab, or being his biological daughter (how I imagined it) but it doesn't really matter. I also chose bane because I didn't want to go with the joker again, but this this also doesn't really matter as the reader kinda just becomes her own villain.
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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rafe with crybaby reader cause my heart 😍 shes real nervous to leave his room when she’s over even tho they’ve been together for ages but he’s tapping her butt and telling her to be a big girl and to do what she wants. so she goes to get water and little miss clumsy drops something and it breaks. maybe wards been having a bad week or smth so he comes out of his study and yells a little and she just cries her eyes out. rafe would loose his shit I know it ‼️
goddddd this !!!! i relate to this so hard bc i am a huge cry baby :( i don’t think ward would yell but i think he’d be an asshole in his own intimidating, highkey terrifying way.
you cringe as the glass shatters, eyes instantly welling up as you gasp — wanting to slap yourself. you’re a guest in the cameron’s home and you’re already messing things up and breaking things, how ungrateful could you be? almost instantly you hear quick and heavy footsteps, not rafes— no, he didn’t walk like that, you knew what his footsteps sounded like. this was ward.
he stands in the doorway, mouth agape a little, just staring at you like ‘seriously?’ and you wanna sink into the ground.
“i’m so sorry, mr cameron it was totally an accident. i’ll— i’ll buy a new—” you start, jumping into action by squatting and carefully trying to pick up the shards with your fingers. you knew it was dumb, but you panicked and wanted to make things right as quickly as possible.
“just— out of the way please. don’t touch it.” he holds up his hand, cutting you off making your mouth shut quickly. he used a very clipped tone with you, different from the usual welcoming and kind voice he spoke to you in. you stay quiet, stepping aside as you anxiously bite at your finger nail, watching him open a closet and pull out a broom.
you don’t know why, but even though you felt totally guilty you expected him to sweep it up— however he pins you with a stern gaze and holds the broom out. “c’mon, you’re gonna clean it up. okay?” his tone isn’t gentle, leaving no room for suggestion, more threatening if anything. you swallow, nodding frantically and take it from him, sweeping up.
he leans on the counter with his arms crossed watching you as you gather the shards. “you know, i welcomed you into my home sweetheart and this is just… you see how it might irritate me right? i’m not being unfair?” he tilts his head, gesturing that he wants you to look at him.
“no sir, i really really am sorry, i would never disrespec—” you will the tears to stay inside.
“its just… i’m having a rough day, i come home, i gotta listen to my son fucking you for what, an hour straight, with no regard for who might hear, and now i just wanna relax, and you’re smashing my good glasses in the kitchen. i don’t even really know why you were reaching for these glasses, honey, the regular glasses are right there like it’s common sense...” his voice doesn’t raise once, but your lip is wobbling, avoiding his eyes due to how stern and intimidating he was. you had no idea ward could be like this, he seemed so kind at first.
“respect is important, yeah? just try and remember.” he finishes up, running his hands under the tap before sparing you one last disapproving glance and walking to the kitchens exit. at once, rafe appears in the doorway in his sweatpants, coming to see what was taking so long. he glances at you with the broom, and then his dad, brows furrowing in confusion.
“whats going on?”
“just maybe teach your girlfriend some basic house training or respect rafe, i don’t know i’m tired…” he trails off, walking past his son back into the hallway. rafe is quick to react as usual, face screwing up in disgust and swivelling his whole body to follow his dad.
“excuse me? no, the fuck did you just say?” he asks, voice a little raised. you sigh, swiping your tears on the back of your wrists and pouring the shards into the bin before following.
“don’t make this a thing son, she broke my good glass so she’s cleaning it up, go to bed.” he waves him off but rafe storms infront of him.
“are you serious? she’s a guest in our home, what you — you’re always fuckin’ telling me to treat the guests with respect so what— the same doesn’t apply to my girl? fucking… apologise, now.” he demands, making his dad simply scoff. rafe didn’t didn’t like that. he stares him down, pushing his tongue into his cheek before flickering his eyes up at you. “go back to my room, baby i’ll be up soon. clearly i gotta have a conversation with my old man.” he drawls, eyes fixated back on his dads face, beaming with anger.
you do as he says, as always. the tears fall freely once you’re back in his room, sat on his bed, face in your hands sobbing and mewling. all you could do was curse yourself out internally. logically, you knew it was just a glass but it felt like a huge deal to you, never wanting to disrespect anyone let alone your boyfriends father. you hear the familiar footsteps of your boyfriend eventually, and you don’t even try to compose yourself— continuing to cry even when he opened the door and re entered.
he sighs, anger and sadness flooding him at the fact that his father had made his baby cry like this, so soon into knowing eachother. he watches you for a moment, trying to let the anger subside, itching his head before slowly coming to sit beside you on the edge of the bed.
“i’m really, really sorry about that baby.” his voice is a warm comfort, slightly soothing your hurt.
“how have i already messed up so bad? he hates me now.” you whine and he shushes you with a frown, wrapping a strong arm around you to tuck your head beneath his chin, cheek to his chest.
“hey, hey, shh. my dads just an asshole… but he doesn’t hate you. he’s just having a bad day and decided to take it out on you for whatever fuckin’ reason. you’re all good. it’s just a glass, right? means nothin’.”
“it didn’t seem like it meant nothing to him.” you pull away to look at him, eyes watery and puffy bottom lip pouted. he sighs once more, both hands rising to wipe his thumbs beneath your eyes, caressing your cheeks.
“and like i said, he’s just an asshole. don’t let him get to you baby. yeah?”
you sniffle. “yeah.”
“good, show me that smile, c’mon.” a hand drops down to your waist, digging his fingers in a little, threatening to tickle. you can’t help it, even just a threat of a smile on rafes lips makes you grin, which only mirrors in his expression. “there y’go. that’s my big girl.”
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beansprean · 3 months
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time for exposition? no, time to look at him in his cute new outfit!
My Familiar’s Ghost Part 66
Masterpost
See new pages on Patreon!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Wide shot of vampire Guillermo sitting on a couch for a talking head. He is wearing black chinos, a red v-neck knit sweater with gold threading around the cuffs and neck, a gray and white button up with a heart pattern, black bat-shaped collar clips with gold trim and a gold chain, and new round glasses with gold arms and nose bridge. The lower third reads "Guillermo de la Cruz" with 'de la Cruz' crossed out followed by "The Great, New Vampire." Guillermo grins widely at the camera, fangs on full display, and holds his hands out in a ta-da pose. He says, "Sooo... I'm a vampire! For real!! I can fly, I can turn into a bat, and I even got to move into a real bedroom! Guillermo the Great is excited to get started on eternity!" 1b. Repeat, smaller panel. Guillermo sits with a giddy little smile, fists clenched excitedly over his lap, as he listens to the director offscreen who asks "So you don't have any memories of what your body was doing while you were separated?" 1c. Repeat. Guillermo drops his hands to his thighs and looks upward, smile turning a bit self-depreciating. He answers, "Um. No... I assume it was a lot of slaughtering, so. No loss, right?" 1d. Large panel, Guillermo waist-up in the bottom corner as his gaze goes far away, smile still in place but a little bit sad. Slightly embarrassed. He says, "I remember doing the ritual with Nadja and... reaching out... and then I don't know. I think I was dreaming. I woke up in the fancy room and... I was back! And a vampire!" Behind him are faded flashes of previous events: Nadja and Dolly sitting at the table while they explain the ritual; Guillermo and his soul reaching hands out to each other; Guillermo and his soul, who has taken the form of Nandor, pressing their palms together; the traffic light smashing to the ground and turning red; Guillermo pulling Nandor up into a kiss.
2a. Zoom out, Guillermo sitting on the couch. Offscreen, the director asks, "You don't think you're a ghost possessing a vampire?" Guillermo quickly straightens, head popping up and fingers lacing together over his lap. He replies, "I considered that! But possession feels different. When I was possessing objects in the house, it was like putting on a coat. I was me inside something else." 2b. Close up on Guillermo, the background turning into a softer version of his ghostly blue. He presses both hands to his chest and closes his eyes with a contented smile, continuing, "Now, I feel...complete." 2c. Zoom out again, angle slightly further left. Guillermo furrows his brow with a slight frown, one hand dropping to his lap and the other gesturing vaguely in the air as he explains, "I didn't realize how much not having a soul empties you out. But I've reconnected to it now, somehow, and to...um. Well." 2d. Close up on Guillermo as the director offscreen finishes his sentence: "Nandor?" Guillermo glowers darkly in response, shadows taking over his face as the background turns into rolling black clouds with angry strikes of lightning. /end ID
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trashmouth-richie · 6 months
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⋆·˚ ༘ * eddie x female reader
⋆·˚ ༘ * summary: what happens, when eddie makes plans without you?
⋆·˚ ༘ * tw: 18+ only, unprotected p in v! toxic relationship behavior, choking, reader is kind of crazy but it’s explained at the end, breaking shit, mean!reader, drinking, weed, knife use, pet names, nicknames.
⋆·˚ ༘ * 1.7k words, not proof read, pretend it is.
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Saturdays were usually your nights together. Spending the night at his trailer because it was guaranteed that Wayne would be gone. 
But tonight Eddie said he had “plans with the boys”. 
So imagine your surprise when Robin called you up and asked why you weren’t at Steve’s party, but Eddie was?
The ten minute drive felt like sixty seconds of pure rage filled hell. You only saw red, steam shot from your ears like a cartoon. 
And when you pulled up to Steve’s enormous house, Robin was right, because Eddie’s van was sitting out front. 
Your blood boiled and your cheeks felt like fire. Heart hammering in your chest,  you slammed the gear shift into park before the car could even come to a full stop. 
You didn’t care that he was here with his friends, what you cared about was the normal posse of skanky girls who were at Steve’s parties, one strawberry blonde in particular that rubbed you every way of wrong. Chrissy.
She was always hanging on Eddie any chance she got, batting her eyelashes, acting dumb to get his help in math. You’re so smart she’d whisper to him— even though the straight F’s on his paper definitely didn’t stand for Fantastic. 
Jason had dumped her and rumor had it she was looking to get back at him the biggest way she knew how, and that was t getting with the freak. 
Your freak. 
The sharp black points on your heeled boots clicked along the sidewalk as you stalked towards the house whistling an angelic sort of tune, swinging the wooden bat by your side. 
Jonathan was outside the lavish home, smoking a fatty and leaning against the raised brick garden bed. Upon first glance he waved, all drunken smiles and lazy greetings. 
It wasn’t until he saw what was in your hand that he finally pieces it together, and you asked him sweetly to kindly get Eddie because you had a message for him. 
The driver's side window broke with little to no effort, a few swings and it shattered into a pretty spider web of splintered glass, covering Eddie’s driver seat. 
The whistled tune never stopped from your puckered lips. Not when you flicked open the pocket knife and punctured the rubber tires, or when you carved a long jagged scratch into the paint down the aluminum body. 
It wasn’t until you were standing on the hood of the van, crashing the bat into the windshield did you hear the front door to Steve’s swing open, music fading through the night with each body shoving their way through the door, gasping at your surprise gift for your boyfriend. 
Someone, Jeff, you think— hollers for Eddie and you plant your ass on the hood, leaving a dent for sure by the way you plopped down like it was a trampoline. With legs crossed and twisting the bat between your palms, you wait patiently for the man of the hour to finally arrive, a smile on your black painted lips. 
By now there’s a decent sized crowd, all gaping mouths and wide eyes, some laughing but mostly struck with fear out of the freaks girl. 
He walks down the concrete steps, his heavy boots thudding against the hard ground. You can see the muscles in his jaw tense from where you are sitting, his knuckles tighten into a fist and his shoulders broaden and angle back, like he's trying like hell, not to yell out right by the look of the destruction you caused to his van. 
“Hi baby,” you greet, sugary sweet like you just brought him balloons on his birthday, “having a fun night?”
Eddie is seething, nostrils flared as he tries to even his breathing, “what did you do Lil?” 
“What?” You ask, turning your body to look at the glass splintered on the windshield and smashed on the ground, “oh, you mean all this? It’s pretty right?” 
Eddie drags his tongue across the front of teeth, sucking in a breath, “you’re kidding right?”
Unhooking your crossed leg you slam your heel into one of his headlights, the satisfying crunch of the plastic pieces littering to the ground, you smile pretty up at him, but he doesn’t bat an eye, “oh Eddie,” you tsk, “I don’t like jokes… or being,” the tip of the bat hits the other headlight with a crunch, “… lied to.” 
“Fucking Christ, what are you even talking about?” Eddie spits as he looks to Jeff then to Gareth. 
“Really? Then why did Robin call to say you were here with that bimbo Chrissy?” 
The crowd ooo’s as Eddie stomps towards you, his face struck with anger, the browns of his eyes completely black as he glared down at you, his necklace still swaying as he leans forward into your space, only malice in his voice. 
“Time to go,” he grunts, grabbing the bat from your hand and tossing it to the ground, “now.” 
“Nah,” you say, looking past him and waving at Steve, he returns the wave with a confused look at a silent gasp at the look of Eddie’s van, “I’m just getting started.” 
Steve tries to push everyone inside shows over! Let’s go! But nobody budges, waiting for the train wreck, unable to look away. 
Eddie pulls you from the van by your feet, your bare ass skimming the hood as your skirt lifts up, sure to leave a burn, you land on your feet, waltzing over to aforementioned blonde and taking her drink from her, downing the horrific liquid in a gulp. She’s too stunned to speak as you twist back around to catch a glimpse of Eddie, shooting him a wink. 
The knife tucked into the cute holder on your thigh comes out with a flick. Flashing the steel blade to Eddie, you wink before whipping back around to Chrissy just in time to catch her ponytail between your fingers. The knife cuts through her hair like a shear, close to her scalp beneath the emerald ponytail, her golden locks fisted limply in your hand. 
The scream she lets out is blood curdling and ugly, but you don’t mistake the laugh coming from Robin or Steve as Chrissy runs inside, her cheer squad hurrying behind to help their friend. 
“Wait! You forgot this!” You say shaking the blond strands towards the door, “I’m sure some glue or tape will hel—”
You're caught off guard as Eddie’s hand wraps around your wrist and starts dragging you away from the party back to his van. He wiggles the knife from your fingers and closes it on his hip, shoving it into his jacket. 
The smile never left your lips, not even when your shoulder blades rest against the side of the van as Eddie crowds you in. 
“Jesus Christ you’re fucking crazy, y’know that?” his words are mean but there’s a hint of something else on his lips, a smirk.
Your fingers move to his belt buckle, threading it through itself as you look up at him through your lashes, “you love it.” 
His eyes roll tk the back of his head, and he takes a deep breath, animalistic instinct kicking in as you suck his thumb into your mouth. 
“Fuck.”   
Your thighs are wrapped around his waist in two seconds flat. He grunts as his thick fingers glide through your wet heat, finally noticing you weren’t wearing any panties he groans guttural and low. 
His hand wraps around your throat and he smiles as you gasp for a little breath, eyes rolling into your skull as he cants his hips forward and his thick head pushes through your walls, filling you full. 
Your lips attach to his neck, licking and biting hard enough that your teeth marks will bruise a perfect dental record into his skin. A nice match for the red lips tattooed on the left of his neck, an identical mark to yours. 
“Shit,” he groans slamming into you harder and harder, shaking the van on its flat tires, broken glass hitting the ground like hail. “Always so fucking tight for me baby, fuck I love your pussy.” 
You’re mewling into him, inhaling his words as he bites your lip, licking the blood from them and running it over his teeth. 
The front door opens and shuts but neither of you stop, not even when the sobs from Chrissy get closer as her friends bell her into their car, parked right behind Eddie’s van. 
Eddie’s face is buried into your neck and you catch Chrissy’s blue teared stare, horror on her face as you and Eddie both moan. “Mm fuck,” you say to her, eyes boring into hers, “like what you see, Christopher?”
The screaming huff from her mouth is  heard around Hawkins as she slams the door to Heather's car, tires screeching as they tear out of Steve’s driveway. 
Eddie chuckles into your skin and shakes his head. A smile on his face as he kisses you hard, pumping into you harder and before long you're both coming and moaning into the night, completely lost in your own world. 
Later that night in Eddie’s bed, you're tangled naked and fresh from a shower beneath soft cotton sheets. His hands lazily work up and down your back, your arm propped up beneath your chin on his chest, “so, I did good, right?”
Eddie laughs and blows a ring of smoke into the air, “you were perfect my little vixen, I could barely contain myself when you were sitting on the hood like that, looked so fucking sexy, wanted to fuck you right there.” 
You both laugh at the theatrics of the night, and you remember something that’s missing, “gonna need my knife back by the way, feels weird without it.” 
Eddie points to his jacket crumbled on the floor next to a mountain of discarded clothing and leather boots, “it’s in my pocket, just keeping it safe.” 
You roll your eyes with a tease and slither from the sheets, bare skinned beneath the yellow warm lamp, the jacket feels cool in your hands, silk pockets gentle on your fingers as your grab your knife and pull it out. 
Examining it in your fingers it truly was the perfect gift from the man you adored, etched into the handle, a script he cut himself, “to my Lilith.” 
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another story in the same lilith au - here & here
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cheriiyaya · 4 months
Note
Hiii! First of all i hope you are doing well and merry early cristmas!
Could i possibly request dazai with a very touchstarved reader like genuienly you just hug and lay your head on her shoulder and she shivers and starts twitching/moving around, but it doesnt mean she doesnt like physical affection, quite the opposite, but she just isnt used to it?
You see my face in every place
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☾⋆⁺₊⋆ You want affection, but it's just something your not used to...but dazai's not having it
☾⋆⁺₊⋆ Contents: Dazai x fem!reader, reader is just like me frfr, dazai being kinda lovesick, umm no real warnings tbh
☾⋆⁺₊⋆ A/N: oml anon this has been on my mind and now i have an excuse to write it tyyyy
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It's not like you don't like it, it's just...strange.
The feeling of someone's arms wrapping around you, caging you to their chest felt wrong, it felt too intimate. sometimes it felt as if they were trying to swallow you whole, trapping you so you'd never leave. So, you opted for simple nods of acknowledgement when faced with someone, yet at the same time you craved the touch of another person.
Enter, Osamu Dazai.
That man; he was everything you wanted and feared in one pretty package. At first glance, you thought of him as just another pretty face; you'd seen many, after all. But the way he spoke and teased caused your heart to claw up your throat and your insides to flip upside down.
At first, you feared him.
You weren't sure about this feeling-about him. Love and fear manifest in similar ways and for someone who had known one more than the other, you chose to believe that you felt the latter towards him.
Dazai had noticed this, and in simple curiosity he had walked up behind you and planted his chin on your shoulder, hoping to get your attention.
He did not expect your reaction, to say the least. You, jumping from your chair and spinning around, gripping the armrests of your chair as your eyes widen and shock and something else.
Dazai didn't try to touch you in any way, after that.
But he still couldn't help to be drawn to you, angelic eyes looking up at him and the sweet hum that was your voice.
He was enraptured by you.
He wanted you to feel safe around him so bad, he really did. But he was scared after seeing your reaction that one time. What if he hurt you in some way? What if he scared you away? He didn't want to sully you in any way, you were too precious for the likes of him.
But of course the red string of fate bound you two together and words that never should have been known to the world slipped from drunken lips as a bottle of red liqueur smashed to the ground one night.
Yet you still shied away from any contact, whether it be the bush of hands against one another as you picked up ruby-stained shards of glass.
Dazai wanted you to open up to him, he wanted to hold you and cherish you, show his love for you in any way he could. So, he started simple;
a simple, fleeting mussing of your hair that made you wonder if it was simply the wind.
nudging his knee against yours under the desks as he leaned in to whisper something to you, passing it off as an accident.
Small, unnoticeable things.
Then, he did more.
Asking you if he could kiss your hands before he left.
A gentle hand on your shoulder that made you tense up a bit but no longer brought the horrified reaction from before.
Dazai kept this pattern until one day you found yourself in his arms, allowing yourself to indulge in his addictive touch.
Now, dazai swears he can't keep his hands off you.
Always swathing your face in delicate kisses and leaving lingering touches whenever he can. he clings onto you like vines to a tree, enveloping you and protecting you from those who'd wish harm on his love.
You're the most precious thing to him, feeling the warmth of you seeping into his cold skin as you lay with him, he feels alive. He can't imagine feeling more love and adoration enveloping him than he feels when you're there.
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REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!
©Cheriiyaya 2023
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florencemtrash · 9 months
Text
Hummingbird: Chapter Two
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?
Masterlist
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Miguel grumbled, furiously trying to rub away the oncoming headache as the newly updated Spider-Gang continued to berate him. Jessica only leaned forward on her motorcycle, smirking at the sight of his towering figure surrounded by teenagers.
Gwen prodded him with a pointed finger, “What the hell, Miguel! I can’t believe you-”
“We trusted you and-”
“So what now you’re just on our side like some-” 
Miles’s palms sparked threateningly, “You were going to let my Dad die!”
“Hold the baby, Migs.” Peter tried in vain to shove a babbling Mayday into his hands, “She’s going to make you feel so much better.”
“You and I are gonna have some serious fisticuffs you turtle-”
“You let the power get to your head like some capitalistic-”
Peni’s robot chittered angrily.
“Ok, ok, OK!” Miguel yelled, “Everyone just QUIET!” Turning on his heels so that his broad shoulders blocked out the skyline, he began to mutter, “Dios mío. ¿Qué estoy haciendo? Estos niños me van a matar. Mierda.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth.
“I messed up.” he murmured under his breath.
Hobie propped himself up against his guitar, “Sorry bruv, don’t think I heard you ri-”
“I MESSED UP!” Miguel shouted, throwing his hands up in his air. Everyone except Hobie and Miles took a step back. This was the closest thing to an apology any of them could hope to get, and far more than they were expecting to hear from him. “Now in case you’ve forgotten, we still have an imminent multiversal collapse on our hands!” 
“Very imminent,” Lyla said, floating on her back and propping her holographic feet up on Miguel’s shoulder.
Miles stepped forward in the silence, all eyes on him. 
He still had to tilt his head up to meet Miguel’s eyes, but he didn’t feel small. No. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t weak. He was Spider-Man, and together they were going to fix this.
“I still don’t like you but,” he stuck out his hand, “Welcome to the Spider-Gang, Miguel.” 
>>>
“Lyla, take a scan of the-” Gwen spun out of a wormhole, crashing into his side.
“Sorry!” A web shot out of her wrist, pulling her towards the skylight as Miles flipped across the room in a red and black blur.
“Spot, please!” Miles’s voice bounced around the room, sound waves rippling out from a hundred spots at once, “You don’t have to do this.”
Lyla flickered to life on Miguel’s shoulder, a holographic lollipop sticking out the corner of her mouth, “I’m on it!” 
Miguel caught himself on the wall, blades screeching on metal as a dozen more spots popped into existence around him. Rain pelted him from all sides, distracting him long enough for the hub of a cop car to fly out and flatten him against the wall. 
The Spot dipped in and out of the ground, basking in the remnants of the Super-Collider and swallowing up bits and pieces of metal and granite in the process. Wormholes had already started to crop up all around New York, threatening the destruction of buildings as cars and trains suddenly found themselves hundreds of feet above the ground.
“It’s a proper mess out here mates,” Hobie’s voice called out from Miguel’s watch, followed by the shattering of glass, “How much longer is this going to take?”
“I just need fifteen more minutes,” Margo said. A crash sounded in the background along with Jessica’s colorful words, “... maybe twenty.” 
“We don’t have twenty minutes,” Miguel grunted, flinging his body across the room. He strung his webs around a battered console, whipping it around and aiming it directly at the Spot. He only chuckled, lifting his hand and opening a portal. The console smashed into Miguel’s back, sending him crashing to the ground.
Lyla pulled the lollipop out of her mouth with an audible pop! “Scan of the room’s complete. You’re in luck! You’ve got about 17 minutes before the structural integrity of the building goes kaput, starting with the northwest corner.” Her finger glitched as she pointed. 
Joder.
“Guys no. I can do this.” Miles said, his voice tight with effort as he continued to jump around the room, whipping metal at the Spot to distract him long enough to swing to safety. He could make the Spot see reason. He had to.
Margo and Jessica scrambled about the control room three stories up, Margo’s virtual reality body glitching from anxiety as she threaded wires together and fumbled around on the computers in the control room. This dimension’s technology was ancient compared to hers and she was finding it hard to make the adjustment. 
“You really think that would work?” She asked Miles. They all stood side by side atop Alchemax, staring down into the remnants of the Super-Collider where the Spot floated around aimlessly in a pool of black ether. Every so often Margo was certain she could see visions of other dimensions poking through the fabric of spacetime - A baseball game, an explosion, a thousand ships cruising past a desert planet.
“He got his powers using the Super Collider,” Miles reasoned, “Absorbed dark matter energy from countless universes. Reverse the process and we might be able to send it all back to their original dimensions.”
“Leaving him powerless.” Hobie finished, shoving his hands into his jacket and nodding, “I like it.” 
“It’ll be a large scale Go-Home-Machine.” Margo murmured, nodding in understanding as the plan fell into place.
“But you gotta let me talk to him first.” Miles narrowed a pointed glare at Miguel. “Let me make him see reason. End this before it even begins.”
“Are you joking? That’s too risky.” Miguel growled out.
“This could kill him!”
“Oh come on, Miguel, give Miles a chance!” Pavitr had to balance on the tip of his toes to sling an arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “He’s Spider-Man! This will be easy for him! Use that charm and compassion and-”
“Fine.” Miguel said, shrugging Pavitr off, “We’ll try it your way.”
The Spot walked forward menacingly, noting with pride how Miles backed away, hands lifted up in front of him, “So now you want to talk?” 
“Listen, Jonathan - it’s Jonathan, right? - We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I made fun of you before. I’m sorry that I disregarded you after everything you’ve been through. But you have to understand what you’re doing. This is going to destroy everything. Everything. The universe, the multiverse, all of it. You’ve got the power to-”
“There’s no Jonathan anymore, only the Spot. You still think I’m joking don’t you? You still think we’re going to make up after a grand old speech - that you’re going to save me. Well it’s too late for that, kid.” 
He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, a portal opening to his left. Someone tumbled out wearing a paint stained Brooklyn Visions Academy sweatshirt. 
Miguel’s heart stopped beating. 
He would recognize you anywhere - in any universe.
“Y/n?” he breathed out. 
“Let’s see how good you really are, Spider-Man.” He snapped his fingers again and a portal opened up beneath your feet. The last thing you heard was the Spot's laughter as you began to fall from the sky.
“NO!” Miguel sprang into action, red laser webs flinging out to the walls as he threw himself into the air. 
“Nuh uh.” The Spot shook his finger, throwing a spot at Miguel and portaling him away, “No help! That’s cheating.” 
Miles sprinted up the walls, tracking the small dot of your figure as you flailed about wildly more than two hundred feet up, desperately trying to straighten your arms and slow your fall. The wind carried your screams away.
He dove towards a spot, arms and legs tucked in straight as an arrow after seeing your sprawling form fall past the wormhole, and re-emerged just above you. With a quick flick of the wrist he caught you, throwing out webs wildly towards the neighboring buildings in a desperate bid to slow your fall. The strands held on for as long as they could, slowing your descent before finally snapping from the tension. 
“Hold on!” He yelled over the wind as the last web broke. The voice sounded familiar. 
You both hurtled through the skeleton of a window before landing and rolling onto the floor of the one of Alchemax lab rooms, the faint smell of chlorine and formaldehyde still clinging to the air.
You pushed yourself onto your knees, prepared to kiss the solid ground beneath you.
“Miss Y/l/n?!” Miles’s jaw dropped, eyes as round as dinner plates. 
You perked your head up, momentarily forgetting your near death experience.
“Miles?!” 
“Oh crap,” he cleared his throat, dropping his voice an octave, “Um, who’s Miles?” 
“What the hell are you doing here? Do your parents know about this? Is this why you’ve been skipping classes? Who let you do this without adult supervision?!” You grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him. He was just a teenager for fuck’s sake!
“Listen, Miss Y/l/n-” Maybe it was because he was so used to unloading his thoughts in front of you that he launched into a half-baked explanation of everything that had happened, “I got bitten by a radioactive spider-” “I met all these Spiderpeople-” “-and he tried to stop me from saving my dad and-” 
Your head was spinning.
“Oh Spidermaaannnnn!” The Spot called out in a sing-song voice. “Where are you hiding, you little insect?” “I gotta go, just-” he held his hands out, “just stay here for now. Don’t move!” And just like that he was gone, leaving you more confused than ever before.
I don’t get paid enough for this. You thought, standing alone amidst the rubble.
Miguel tore through the rooms, sprinting like a madman. The reverse Super Collider was finally up and running and it was only a matter of time before the Spot would realize their plan and go berserk. The ground beneath him shook and groaned in protest as the building’s foundations began to crumble into nothing, eaten away by the dark matter that spilled out of the Spot.
“Y/N!” he roared, kicking down a door so hard it blew off its hinges.
You hopped off the bench. It seemed silly, but as a civilian caught in the middle of a multiverse-ending battle there hadn’t been anything for you to do but sit and wait for Miles to come back.
A Spider-Man variant barreled towards you, all hard cut lines of red and blue with blades protruding to his forearms that glinted in the dim light. You hadn’t made a decision about whether or not to run - whether or not it was even worth it to try - before he had you wrapped up in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder. The mask fell away like tv static to reveal a head of brown waves that smelled faintly of oranges.
“Dios mío, pensé que te perdí.” He murmured, holding you like his life depended on it. 
You stiffened under his touch before awkwardly raising a hand to pat his back. “Umm, hola. ¿Te conozco?”
Miguel froze, feeling the tension in your body. You didn’t… you didn’t know who he was. He’d just… he’d been so terrified that he’d forgotten himself - the situation they were all in. 
He took a step back, spine ram-rod straight as he suppressed the urge to hold you again. This version of you looked… different. Different, but the same. You were missing the faint scar on your temple you’d gotten from a car crash at seventeen. 
“We need to go.” he said, voice tight as he gestured to his back, “Get on and hold on tight. This building’s about to blow.”
You blinked at the sudden change in his tone, taking a moment to process what he’d just asked you. 
“You know Spider-Man?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He said, clenching his jaw. If you didn’t jump on his back in the next ten seconds he was going to chuck you over his shoulder and start running.
The floor beneath you shifted, the building’s dying breaths echoing through the halls.
Hesitantly you climbed onto his back, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as he started sprinting towards the broken window.
“Si me dejas caer, nunca te perdonaré,” you said, lips accidentally brushing against the curve of his ear. 
He shivered. “Jamás.” 
You were airborne again, feeling Miguel’s body twist and flex beneath you as he pulled you both towards the ceiling like it was as natural as breathing. When you dared to look towards the ground you gasped. The tangled frame of the Super Collider was whirring to life, crackling with energy and exploding with color as Miles spun his webs, keeping the machine together even as it threatened to rip itself apart. 
From within the cocoon of webs, dark matter, and multiversal energy, you could make out the Spot’s form warping and pulling apart, bits and pieces disappearing into the frenetic portal that the collider had split open.
Miles caught up to you both, matching Miguel’s rhythm as they flicked and swung from their webs.
“Hey again, Miss Y/l/n.” Flick. “I see you’ve met Miguel.” Flick. “I hope he hasn’t been too mean towards you.” He called out.
You felt Miguel grumble with displeasure. 
“He’s the guy that body slammed me into a moving train!” Flick. “But I beat him!” 
“Miguel did WHAT?!” 
“Right, Miss Y/l/n?”
“Listen kid, I already apologized for that.” 
“Yeah right.” Miles had to laugh. The day he heard Miguel say the words “I’m sorry” would be the day the multiverse tore apart, and that day was not today.
You slapped Miguel on the shoulder - it was like hitting stone, “¿Qué coño te pasa? He’s just a teenager!” 
“Cariño, can we please discuss this at a later time?” He gritted his teeth. Something was wrong with the collider. It was getting harder and harder to swing you both upwards, like the force of gravity had tripled. 
You froze. “What did you just call me?” 
Crap.
Miles’s eyes swung back and forth between you two like a pinball machine and the dots finally connected - the alternate universe where Miguel had a family, the way he kept looking at you, the way he’d demanded Miles tell him where you were.
“...Aren’t you his wife?” He asked dumbly.
Miguel’s face went white beneath his mask. Did the temperature go up, or was that just him? His hands felt clammy under his spider-suit.
“I’M HIS WIFE?!” 
The collider screeched beneath them and Miguel barely had time to flick his web out towards the remnant of a walkway before - 
One. 
Two.
Three. 
BOOM! 
The Spot burst out from the cocoon in a tornado of dark matter, sending debris flying backward towards the sucking mouth of the collider. The building walls buckled, drywall ripping out and sailing downward at the whim of the collider’s gravitational force.
“Spider-Man!” He bellowed, his voice grating and animalistic, “I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!” 
He might get torn apart and sent to a thousand different dimensions, but if he was going down, he was going to take Spider-Man with him.
“Get her out of here!” Miles yelled over the deafening roar. He pressed his body flat to the wall to keep from falling down into the collider.
“I can’t!” Miguel groaned. His hands had begun to slip down the bright red webbing. You were beginning to lose your grip as well, nails clawing into Miguel’s back.
Your legs gave way first, then your arms. 
“Y/N!” Miguel flicked a laser web out, catching you by your waist. 
“MISS Y/L/N!” 
You gasped, arms and legs splayed out to your sides as you dangled precariously over nothing. Miguel stared down at you, shoulder screaming in pain as he did everything he could to keep you both from getting sucked down. His mask disappeared, letting you see the way his red-brown eyes were blown open. Somewhere from below Miguel heard the Spot scream as he was finally torn to shreds, dark matter traveling back to their respective dimensions, but all he could focus on was you.
“Miguel,” you whispered, too scared to say anything else.
“Miguel?” You called out from the bottom of the stairs. 
Gabriella dribbled the football close, just like her father had taught her, before passing it cleanly between your legs.
“¡Túnel!” 
“¡Y la multitud se vuelve loca!” Miguel whooped, thundering down the stairs and twirling a screaming Gabriella through the air.
You fixed the collar of his sweater, kissing him hesitantly on the lips and smiling at the brightness in his eyes as he held your daughter. 
“I’ll see you at the game later,” You said, smoothing back a strand of your husband’s hair, “I love you.” You murmured, hoping to hear him say it back. It had been so long since he’d said those words to you.
“I’ll see you later.” Miguel promised, kissing you again with a smile so wide you felt his teeth against your lips. 
You knew something wasn’t quite right… he knew you knew… but neither of you could find the words to say anything about it. 
What’s happened? Why have you changed so much so quickly? Why don’t you remember things about me - about Gabriella - anymore? 
You wanted to ask those questions so badly.
But you didn’t ask, and he didn’t answer.
So he left without saying those words… and that was the day he lost you.
He wouldn’t lose you again. He wouldn’t lose you like he’d lost Gabriella.
With a roar he pulled you back to him, wrapping one arm tightly around you. You molded yourself into his side, shutting your eyes just in time for the collider to groan to a halt and then explode.
The noise alone knocked you both back, sound waves rattling your bones and pressing you further against Miguel. Golden light emitted from the collapsing collider, sinking into your skin until it felt like you were burning.
The laser web burned away and Miguel could do nothing more than wrap his body around you as you were both thrown up and through what remained of the roof. You landed on hard pressed glass, pain shooting up your side as you and Miguel tumbled in a flurry of tangled limbs. You rolled to a stop, Miguel bracing his arms so that you wouldn’t get crushed under his bulky frame. His suit glitched, unstable molecules traveling over his skin as it worked to repair any and all damage.
The collider stilled, light dimming as it sighed and breathed its last.
“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” He brushed your hair back, frantically scanning your body for injuries as you caught your breath. 
“I’m ok.” You gasped out, “I’m ok,” You promised, resting your hands against his chest. He felt solid and real beneath your fingertips - the most real thing you’d experienced this entire night. 
Miguel sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. You closed yours too, letting yourself enjoy this delicate moment of peace and quiet. 
“Woooow, you can really feel the romantic tension between the two of them, can’t you?”
“Shut up, Pavitr.” Gwen hissed.
Miguel’s eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of the audience of Spiderpeople that had congregated on the roof. It was at times like this that he envied the others for their spider-sense. 
He rolled lightly onto his feet, pulling you up with him and keeping one arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You found that you didn’t mind the contact at all. 
Sirens blared from every street corner, the flashing red, white, and blue lights of firefighters, policemen, and EMS overwhelming to the eye. 
Someone was missing. 
“Where’s Miles?!” You said, your heart leaping into your throat.
As if on cue he swung up through the hole in the roof, landing with a wince of pain as his right knee buckled under his weight. Patches of his singed suit were still smoking.
“Are you guys ok? I oof-'' Gwen tackled him in a hug, ripping off her mask in the process. You recognized her immediately from Miles’s drawings, but her hair was longer - wilder - than in the pictures.
“Miles,” her breath stuttered, “Oh my god, I-I thought-” 
He shushed her, rubbing her back as she helped hold him up on his injured leg.
“Hey it’s ok. It’s all good. I’m alright.”
“Aight’ bruv!” Hobie and Pavitr whooped, clapping Miles’s back. 
You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as the others circled around Miles. Only Miguel stayed close, watching you out of the corner of his eye. 
Had you actually just experienced all of that? Had you lost your mind?
“Miss Y/l/n!” Miles noticed you shivering in the cold in your socks and pajamas. He tugged off his ruined mask, exposing the bruise that was beginning to blossom like a purple flower around his nose, “Are you alright?”
You blinked. Were you alright? You weren’t dead or seriously injured as far as you could tell. 
It is taking all my willpower not to pass out or vomit right now - was what you were thinking.
“I’ve been better,” you answered, uncrossing your arms. You took a deep, stabilizing breath and squared your shoulders. It was bad enough that you’d spent the majority of the evening flung around like a rag doll in front of your favorite student, but to do it in your pajamas? That was just embarrassing. 
“Miles, please tell me you haven’t been running around New York alone with no adult supervision fighting crime this past year.” 
He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his heck. It was like being reprimanded by his own mother, “I mean… I wasn’t always doing it alone.” 
“Yeah! And he had adult supervision - at least for the beginning part of it,” you turned towards the sandy-haired Spider-Man in the pink bathrobe and matching slippers, “I was his mentor and I think I did a pretty good job, wouldn’t you say?” He punched Miles proudly on the arm.
You gawked at him. “Is that… is that a baby strapped to your chest?” 
The baby in question babbled with happiness, chubby fingers reaching out for you. 
Peter grinned, plucking the little girl out from her carrier and mussing up her wild, red curls. “This is Mayday. She’s a wonder isn’t she?” 
He thrust May into your baffled arms where she proceeded to wriggle around like a worm on a hook. 
“You-you brought a baby to a superhero fight?” 
“Sure did! And she did fantastically. Photo time!” He snapped a picture with you and May, adding as a caption “Mayday’s first time saving the multiverse.” “This is going in the scrapbook for sure.” 
“I think… I think I need to go home now.” You said once Mayday was safely crawling around her father’s chest again.
“We should all get out of here.” Miguel said, noting the cop cars beginning to crowd around the perimeter. “Lyla?” 
An orange holographic woman popped to life, hovering in the air between you and Miguel. “You called?” 
You jolted back. Lyla fluttered her fingers in a wave.
“Is it over?” he asked wearily. 
“Hmmmmm,” she flitted around the air, checking holographic screens and typing away on a computer, “Multiverse is holding steady and there’s no sign of the Spot anywhere.” 
“And the super collider?”
Lyla made a poof sound, opening her hands and wiggling her fingers, “Destroyed. No anomalies detected.” 
“Great.” Miguel, tilting his head back and breathing deeply. Lyla blinked out of existence. 
A very pregnant Spiderwoman fiddled around with her watch, opening a portal behind her and her motorbike with only a few quick taps.
Damn, is everyone having kids these days except me? The thought came forth from your muddled brain.
“Let’s get back to HQ everyone. I want full debriefs recorded and uploaded in the next hour.” 
A chorus of protests and half-veiled insults rose up.
A tall, spindly Spider-Man, dressed like a 1920s silent film detective, tipped his hat towards you before calmly adjusting the lapels of his grey coat and stepping into the portal. He was followed by a petite Asian girl driving a robot, and… a pig? You had to blink at that one.
“I hear you teach art.” Hobie said, swinging his guitar onto his back, “That’s ace. Try this out and let me know what you think, yeah?” He tossed you a haphazardly folded zine. The cover screamed out in newsprint letters: THE DECAY OF SOCIETY IN THE FACE OF COMMERCIALIZED ART-MAKING.
“See you around,” he gave a two-fingered salute and stepped back through the portal. 
You immediately felt Miguel’s absence when he brushed past you towards Miles and Gwen. He sized up the two teenagers, grabbed Miles’s wrist, and dropped a watch into his open palm.
“Gwen will teach you how to use it. Don’t make any dumb decisions.” 
“Me?” Miles snorted, “Pfffft. Never.” 
Miguel hesitated before saying, “I’ll see you around… Spider-Man.” 
He was just about to step through the portal himself when you called out his name, voice cracking. He closed his eyes, back tense. 
He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted you to ignore him and let him leave without saying goodbye because… because if he saw you again that just might ruin him. Here was another version of you - another family - that would never be his.
But when you called his name again - this time with more force - he couldn’t deny you. He turned around and stared into your eyes - the eyes of his wife… the eyes of a stranger.
He never had the chance to live a full life with that other version of you. He hadn’t been the one to take you out on the first date, he hadn’t been the one to kiss you at the altar, he hadn’t been there when Gabriella was born. No. All those memories and experiences belonged to someone else, some other version of him that he could never be. But when he looked at you he imagined for one brief moment what it would be like to try it all over again, to be a real husband to you… to be there for you from the start.
“Thank you,” you said, “For saving my life.” 
His lips tightened into a thin, almost angry line, but whether he was angry at you or himself you couldn’t tell. He gave a curt nod, stepped into his dimension, and let the portal close in front of you.
When Gwen and Miles dropped you off at your apartment, the first words out of his mouth were, “Please don’t tell my mom and dad.” 
His phone weighed like a stone in his pocket, filled to the brim with frantic text messages and missed phone calls from Rio and Jefferson.
“Miles… this isn’t-this isn’t safe for you to do. I mean you’re just a teenager.”
“I’m not just a teenager.”  
“Do you even have a driver’s license yet?” Miles shut his mouth, thinking over his next words carefully. 
“Miss Y/l/n, this world needs Spider-Man. You know it needs Spider-Man, And I’m this universe’s Spider-Man. Me. I can’t just let that go.” 
You muttered under your breath. Were you really going to encourage a fifteen year old’s vigilantism? You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, hating that he was right. The answer was yes - you really were going to encourage your student to be a superhero.
“I won’t say anything to Rio or Jefferson or anyone else. Your secret is safe with me, Miles. I swear it.” 
His shoulders drooped in relief. Without warning Miles wrapped his wiry arms around you in a tight hug, “Thank you so much. You’re the best.” 
“Don’t thank me. I haven’t even done anything yet. In fact I should be thanking you for protecting the multiverse tonight.” You said, a faint smile growing on your lips despite your best efforts. You hugged him back. “If you ever need anything, just let me know. I’m going to guess even superheroes need a little help every now and then.”
“That would be the understatement of the century.” Gwen said, balancing on the balcony railing with all the grace and poise of a ballerina. 
“We should really get going, Miles. It was nice meeting you, Miss Y/l/n.” You nearly had a heart attack when Gwen fell backwards without hesitation, catching herself in a swing from an old lamppost. 
“See you around, Miss Y/l/n,” Miles said and dove after her, adding a flourish in the form of a front flip.
“See you around, Spider-Man.” You said softly, finally escaping into your apartment and sliding the balcony door shut.
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Sneak peek at Chapter Three (because I want you all to know what I have planned, but I've made this chapter too long):
You awoke with a start, suffocating under the heavy blankets that you’d buried yourself in last night. You’d been dreaming again about the collider. You’d been dreaming about Miguel - this time in a feverish haze that left your mind in a puddle on the floor. 
How was it possible that a stranger could occupy so much space in your mind? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d held you like you were everything and then left without saying goodbye.
Are you thinking about me too? You wondered, opening your eyes in hopes of chasing the memory of him away.
…Maybe you were still dreaming, because the last time you checked you hadn’t fallen asleep under a tree in Central Park. And even if you had, you highly doubted you could have lugged your bed frame with you all the way from Brooklyn.
Oh por el amor de Dios.
Author's note: I hope you guys are enjoying where the story is heading! To those of you who reached out and offered to help with the Spanish - thank you so much! I've been a little overwhelmed by the responses on Tumblr and haven't been good about keeping track of things, but I have a friend who will be helping me out moving forward. I'll be updating the masterlist once the next chapter is scheduled. In the meantime, have a great weekend everyone :)
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