#and he just has this very specific look on him and goes downstairs

[taylormademagic]

hate that for me being asked "are you busy?" Or "do you have plans" is such a stress trigger

(obviously not in the friend wants to hang context more like your parent can't just use their fucking words and ask you to do something)

[starry-bi-sky]

sO i got to part two of the daniel jason todd fenton au :)

>:) word count 8k+

So, first, taglist for folks who asked for it: @blep-23 @mikyapixie @isnt-that-grape @randomenglishmajor @illryiannightmare @the-navistar-carol

SECOND: this part needs a trigger/content warning list: - CW Mild Swearing - CW Slight Psychological Horror - ^ CW mild depictions of being haunted by your own ghost/death flag and not realizing it (other people do though) - CW Brief Emetophobia (Danny throws up during a second nightmare) - CW Danny has nightmares of dying - except its of Jason Todd's warehouse death. It's not explicit but it's implied - TW Mild mentions of perceived Blood - TW Depictions of Corpses (first is non-descript, and then second one is slightly more descript but its not anything uh, super descriptive) - TW Mild description of burns (the descriptive part above) - TW Depictions of Panic Attacks (Danny's nightmares)

I mentioned that this au was inspired by a song lyric from Jann's 'Gladiator' here is that line:

I know your addiction's attention, Let's start a show Is it everything and more than you were hoping for? Show us something we ain't never seen before

The day after Danny meets himself, he's downstairs having breakfast in the dining room with the rest of the family, listening idly in on their conversations. Tim Drake is talking about something about Wayne Industries with Mr. Wayne - and wasn't that a startling surprise to learn the first time? - and Damian was slyly trying to feed Ace under the table. Duke Thomas was mid conversation with Cass, much of it audibly one-sided as Cass swaps between ASL and verbal speech.

(Danny comes across her a fair few amount of times in Wayne Manor. The first time was in the library. She hands him a book about planets, smiles, and walks away.)

(He hasn't talked much to Duke Thomas yet, but he plans to - he seems cool. They just haven't had the time to run into each other yet. Danny might just have to corner him, he thinks.)

And finally Dick Grayson on his left, his Dick Grayson, was talking away with the other Dick Grayson - who had stopped by from Bludhaven for the morning for his day off. He was a cop, ew. They were comparing lives, specifically college lives. There wasn’t much to talk about in their childhood, it seems. Danny was quietly listening in. 

(They both gave their Bruces headaches as children, apparently. Climbing the chandeliers and sliding down the staircase banisters. Flips and tricks only a child raised by the circus could do.) 

All-in-all, a very quiet morning, Danny thinks. That is, until the other Dick Grayson turns to him and goes; "I'm sure you've been asked already, but what do your parents do, Mini Jay?"

Danny squints at him, and releases his grip on his spoon to raise a pointed finger. "First off: only my Dick Grayson can call me Jay, you have your own." He says, slightly playful and nodding to Dick - oh that was going to get confusing, fast. He should come up with a nickname for one of them, probably - "And second: you're the second person to ask me that, actually. Jason - er, myself? - asked me yesterday. My parents are ectologists."

Apparently, mentioning that he met himself is a set of magic words, because the whole table stops what they're doing, and Danny's half-sinking back into his chair when all eyes turn to him in varying degrees of surprise. Dick - Richard, he’s going to call him Richard - looks at him with wide eyes and furrowed, confused brows. "You saw Jason?"

(Danny sends Bruce a confused look, but he's not paying attention - looking at everyone else with threaded eyebrows and a faint frown. Well, at least Danny isn't the only one confused by the reaction.)

(What a comfort.) 

"I guess that nickname is a dimensional constant." He mutters under his breath, and straightens up, eyeing the room warily. It... doesn't bode well to him that the Waynes were surprised by his other self's appearance -- was hisself estranged from the family?

...He hopes that doesn't happen in his world. Dick and Bruce may not be his adoptive family, but he likes them quite a lot. He wants to stay in contact with them when they get home.

"Yeah, he was in the library." He says, frowning at Richard Grayson. "He was sitting in my armchair." He supposes it was Jason's armchair first -- god, that was so weird to refer to himself in third person. "We talked for a little bit, and he asked me what my parents did. They're ectologists, by the way."

He turns to Mister Wayne and tilts his head, "Did you really not know that he was here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. He wouldn't expect Richard to know, he doesn't live here. But Mister Wayne looks just as surprised, perhaps even a little remorseful.

(There’s a pit in his stomach that’s growing bigger.)

(His neck burns with a new pair of eyes, ones that he can’t see.) 

Mr. Wayne looks thoughtful for a moment, and then carefully, he goes; "Jason is rather... independent. He comes and goes from the manor when he feels like it." And the way he speaks sounds like he was choosing his words carefully. Danny suppresses the shiver of unease.

Something was not well in this house. Something unspoken was haunting the air. 

(Jason would know about hauntings, wouldn’t he?) 

He hopes history won't repeat itself, he likes Bruce quite a lot.

"...Alright," he says after a moment of silence, not hiding his wariness as he slowly turns back to Richard. His eyes flick towards Bruce, and then to Ricard. "Anyway, my parents are ectologists, as I've said for the third time now."

Richard, for his effort, takes the topic change easily, and his surprise shifts into one of curiosity - as does everyone else. (Did Danny really not mention what his parents did? Even Dick and Bruce look intrigued.) "That's... new." Richard says lightly, Danny commends him for the way he sounds non-judgmental. "What are ectologists?"

Danny quirks a dry half-smile, and deadpans; "Studiers of all things dead and afterlife."

...And there is that reaction again. A ripple of surprise and intrigue that spreads throughout the room as everyone looks at him, like a bunch of cats perking up their ears. 

On the other side of the table, Damian scoffs quietly, a sound much like the one Jason - the other one - did when Danny told him. Danny's eyes snap over to him in an instant, he stares at him, trying to study him. Why that reaction - again? 

He lets himself frown, briefly, before addressing Richard again. "Everyone just calls them ghost hunters, but the 'official' term is ectologists." He drawls, air-quoting the word 'official' with his fingers as he rolls his eyes. "They've been obsessed with ghosts since college. We even have a lab in the basement, and they keep liquid ectoplasm samples in the fridge."

Danny's been in the lab a handful of times, he and Jazz both have, either to clean it as part of their chores, or to listen to a lecture from their parents for their newest invention. The lab is cool, kinda, but Danny thinks it wouldn't look out of place in any evil lair of a Rogue with a doctorate. 

…He’s glad that the Fentons weren’t stationed in Gotham. They would have blown up a street. He’s surprised they haven’t already. 

"Ectoplasm?" Dick asks, leaning over to catch Danny's eye. Almost by instinct now Danny smiles at him, and then nods.

"Mom and dad say it's the stuff that makes ghosts." He explains, leaning back against his seat, his arms crossing. "It's invisible in its natural state, and it makes up everything. Kinda like the Force from Star Wars, or just, matter in general."

That cracks a few quiet, laugh-like sounds through the dining room. Danny halves a smile again, a swelling of pride in his chest that lingers for a moment. "My parents say that when ectoplasm condenses enough in one area, it can start taking on visible properties," he continues, "they say that ghosts are just the memories and emotions of a dying person or animal being imprinted on a concentration of ectoplasm, and that the ghost itself isn't actually the person or animal, just matter trying to mimic it."

Which Danny guesses makes sense, even if the way they talk about ghosts made him really uncomfortable. His parents insisted that ghosts weren't actually people, but he just couldn't shake the idea that they were. How close to ‘human’ does something get before they actually are? 

Well, no, that wasn’t fair. Superman wasn’t human, and yet everyone treated him like he was. Let him rephrase himself:

How human-like must something get before they are considered as such? Before they’re considered sapient and sentient, and real?  

"That's... quite interesting." Someone says, and Danny turns to see Bruce leaning his elbows against the table and putting his chin on threaded fingers. He looks genuinely engrossed in what Danny's said, and pride once again leaks into his heart. "You mentioned they kept ectoplasm in a liquified state in their... fridge?"

"Oh yeah," Danny says, putting his full attention to Bruce, "it's crazy. They keep little test tube racks in the freezer full of liquid ectoplasm, and it's this - uh - glowing, bright green stuff. It used to be the weirdest thing in the house."

(From his peripherals, Danny notices the room tense up again at his description — and he bites back the urge to slow his talking down and narrow his eyes. Suspicious. Suspicious. The Waynes weren’t scientists - why do they react to something like they are?)

(Nobody knows what ectoplasm is. To the scientific world, it's an unconfirmed theory of a state of matter. Why do the Waynes act like they know what it is?)

(Danny is not stupid. Even if his scientific family makes him feel like it, sometimes.) 

Bruce gives him this half-tilted, confused smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Used to be?"

Danny opens his mouth, the answer already on the tip of his tongue -- and then he freezes. His jaw clicks shut as he frowns. Should he say what his parents' latest pet project was? Surely, surely, it would be fine? Their inventions never work - and a life-sized portal is just another thing on his parents' crazy ideas list.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, chewing on the skin as he rolls the answer over in his head. ...Surely, it would be fine. His face turns in hesitance, and his shoulders scrunch and twist to his ears, like he's about to admit something that could get him grounded by his parents.

"They... may, or may not, be building an inter-dimensional portal in the basement?" His voice steadily pitches upward nervously the longer he speaks. By the time he finishes, his voice is close to a squeaky pitch.

There is a horrified silence that follows him, sitting in the air so still-like that Danny could hear the whoosh of a pin drop. He should have expected that, nervously surveying the ranging horrified expressions on the Wayne family's faces. "...I promise they're harmless... to the living." He hesitates, "Mostly."

Bruce stares at him for a long moment. "Mostly?" He repeats, his brows arched high and pinched together. Danny cringes back a little.

"Dad's a little clumsy, that's all." He says, shrugging with a helpless smile. It doesn't help, he thinks, and the silence is strangling. Sitting up, he's a little frantic to add; "I really, really, doubt it's going to work, Bruce. Their inventions never do. Mom and dad built a mini portal in college and it didn't work either!" There's a moment of silence following him, before he quietly adds, wincing, "It- it did hospitalize the guy who was helping them, though."

He only heard about that when he asked his parents about the portal - it was still in production when they picked him up. Jack Fenton claimed it was safe as safe could be - they’d make sure that the ‘college’ instance never happened again.

Bruce - both Bruces actually - looked vaguely ill at the thought. Mister Wayne’s face was blank, his face sunk into his folded hands, and Bruce’s stare burned into Danny, intense like concentrated fire. 

Danny for some reason - either through his panicked urge to make things better, or through temporary insanity - laughs forcibly. "The worst thing that could happen is that the portal could explode, but that never happens."

Next to him, Dick makes a stressed sound. "That's not better, Jay." He forces out. He looks even more horrified.

Danny sucks on his bottom lip for a long beat. Then lets out a breath.

"Yeah, I know." Danny sighs, deep and long while his shoulders slump. He watches the room for a moment, with their various stony-like expressions, and looks back at the very concerned-looking Bruce. "But Bruce, I swear it's fine. Nothing's gonna happen, please don't call the Justice League on my parents. They really are harmless."

Bruce looks conflicted.

"I was being dramatic when I said the portal could explode, it won't." He continues, giving Bruce what Jazz has called his 'cheating puppy eyes'. "My parents are eccentric about their line of work, but they understand lab safety. They'd never do anything to put me and Jazz in danger."

...Actively or on purpose, that is.

He and Bruce stare each other down. One second, two seconds; what feels like thirty seconds pass in silence before Bruce relents, sighing deeply and uncannily dad-like. He drags a hand down his face, and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "When we get back to our universe, you are giving me your phone number so you can contact me if anything happens."

Danny beams, nodding hurriedly. "Thank you, Buzz."

Bruce isn't able to hide his smile - small as it was - quickly enough. "You're welcome, Danny."

—-----

Danny has a nightmare that night. He doesn't remember most of it. There's a ticking sound, and high laughter, and there is a thumping heartbeat in his ears. Everything is dark and he is in agonizing pain.

He wakes up in paralyzing terror, a scream lodged in the back of his throat. His head pounds like a concussion and there is a shallowing ache in his ribs, like someone's kicked him, and kicked him, and kicked him until all air has been knocked from his lungs. He can't breathe.

Danny's hands scrabble for his throat, and even though he can hear himself gasping for air, it doesn't feel like he's taking any of it in. There is no relief in the action, no reassurance, and everything is so hot. He kicks at his blankets, his panic growing higher as they tangle around his legs.

He needs-

He needs--

He needs to move. He needs to get up. He needs to free himself. He needs to prove that he's not dying. He feels like he's dying. He feels like he's burning. There are tears swelling in his eyes as he finally gets the blankets off his feet, and he rolls - quite literally - out of bed.

He tries to catch himself, he does. But he doesn't. He hits the floor with a heavy thud and can hardly bring himself to care -- he catches himself on his elbows, and the sting it causes makes him feel worse. The air is knocked out of his chest again. 

The ground is cold though, blessedly cold. And before Danny can realize this, he lifts his head and, disoriented, looks for the door. It's too dark, it's too dark. His head swivels blindly in search of it. He needs to get out, he needs to escape. 

"Bruce." He croaks, still trying to force air down into his lungs. His call comes out raspy, weak, and hot tears blur his vision.

"Dick." He tries instead when a minute passes and no one comes, and he thinks he can finally start breathing. No one comes to find him - his voice is too quiet to wake anyone up. The tears in his eyes bubble and pop, and stream down his face.

He makes a distressed noise. "Jazz?" He whispers, his voice shaky and uneven with an encompassing want for his sister. It's nearly been a month since they got here. He wants Jazz.

No one hears him. He's alone.

God, he doesn't want to be alone. Please don't make him be alone.

Danny eventually gets himself calmed down. But he is curled up on the floor, trembling with the lingering traces of fear from whatever dream had woken up. His fingers dig painfully into his arms, leaving crescent-moon indents by his nails. The contents of the nightmare are already fading further into his mind, slipping out of his hands like water. Like ash.

He feels no need to chase after it.

The back of his shirt is damp with sweat, and in between the trembling he is also shivering, goosebumps lacing up his arms. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he stares with wide, crying eyes at the side of his bed. His breath comes out in short, shaky pants.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, trying to comprehend what happened as his mind still hangs onto the edge of the dreamworld. It feels like there is something in the room with him, crawling along the walls.

Danny forces himself to get up, and the sudden standing makes his vision blacken and swim as blood rushes to his head. He stumbles, slightly, and lurches halfway across the room for the light switch.

He squints as the room is drenched in light, chasing away the lingering paranoia in the back of his brain. He is still shaking. His head still hurts. He still looks, wide eyed, around the room for anything out of place.

There is none.

But he still feels unsafe. He needs- he needs to find someone, or go somewhere else. He grabs a firm pillow off the bed, and leaves.

(He ends up in the library alone. He turns on the lights and grabs a book Dick recommended to him, and he curls up tight in his armchair. He ends up falling asleep just as the sun is rising.)

(He doesn't tell anyone about the nightmare.)

-

Progress in getting the three of them back to their home dimension is slow. Dimension Hopping is a rare experience, and what update Bruce gets he relays back to Danny and Dick: they're trying to figure out a way to send them back safely, from the exact time they disappeared, and to find what dimension they're from. It's complicated magic.

It's been three weeks. 

Danny, for one, is getting homesick. He misses Jazz, Sam, and Tucker terribly, and his parents. Bruce and Dick are great, really, and Danny kinda wants to keep in touch with them after they return to their own world, but they aren't replacements of his sister and friends.

His nightmare from a few days ago still haunt his steps. He closes eyes, and that high-pitched laughter and blood-rushed pounding burns itself his ears and fills a level of unseen terror into his heart. Danny thinks that if he was hit with Scarecrow's fear gas, this is what it would feel like.

He tries to avoid falling asleep by reading in his room, by stargazing, but the place sets him on edge; an unsettling reminder of that nightmare. So he goes to the library when it gets too much, he's run into Bruce twice now doing it, and they both do reading.

Danny thinks Bruce can suspect something is up with him, but he doesn't want to tell him about that nightmare. Dick either, for that matter. He just wants to forget it.

They spend afternoons in the gym, they have it mostly to themselves - Tim Drake is at Wayne Industries, Damian Wayne is at school, so is Duke Thompson, and Cassandra Cain is... doing whatever she does during the day. Danny's not totally sure.

Dick in that time, tries showing Danny how to be more flexible. He says he's a fast learner, but Danny knows he's been slacking lately with his lack of sleep.

There isn't much they can do outside of the manor - Bruce and Dick can't go outside because they'll catch the attention of the paparazzi, and they are both significantly younger than their counterparts, and Danny isn't allowed out without a chaperone.

Which has its own unique set of problems because rumors could rapidly start if he's seen with any of the Waynes multiple times. The paparazzi aren’t dumb enough… okay, most — some — of them aren’t dumb enough to make a tabloid claiming there’s a new Wayne kid just because they see the Waynes interacting with one kid, one time. Multiple times however? That’s another story. And, he has the same issue as Bruce and Dick - he's a baby-faced Jason Todd. Who is Bruce Wayne's adoptive son in this world. He could be recognized. 

And how do you explain a tiny Jason Todd to a world where Jason Todd is a full grown man?

So all three of them are... stuck inside, so to speak. And making do with what they can. Danny spends most of his morning and early noon with Dick, and then they both separate after to have time to themselves before dinner.

Bruce is in one of the studies, doing... something. Danny's not sure and he keeps forgetting to ask.

--

Dick likes Danny - Jason? - Jay. Danny said that he can call him Jason, and he doesn't protest to being called Jay. 

Point is: he likes Jay. He's a delightful kid to be around; he's funny, and clever, even if he doesn't realize it himself. And Dick's a little upset that Jay isn't his brother in his world, he would've loved to have him around the manor. He probably would have visited more if he was around.

Something that he and Bruce were still slowly trying to fix...

He likes spending time with him - getting to teach him his acrobatic tricks was not something he expected, but he loves showing Jay how to do them. He thinks this is probably how Bruce felt when he was training Dick how to be Robin, all those years ago.

Speaking of which, Dick was still not over the Robin jacket that Jay wore. The origins of it weren't the best - Jay started wearing it to take back the insult the other kids at his school were throwing at him - but isn't that what part of what being Robin was about? 

Cheesy, he knows. But his point still stands.

He thinks that if he had to pass the Robin title down to anyone, it would be Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton. Or perhaps just Jason Fenton-Todd? Jay doesn’t seem all that attached to the name Danny. 

(“Mom and dad just started calling me it when they picked me up.” Danny — Jay shrugged when Dick asked him about it, the two of them swinging from bar to bar. “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my name at the time, so they gave me a new one.”) 

If he had met Jason before the Fentons had, Dick thinks maybe he would have adopted him instead. And what would that future look like? Would he have been able to, when he had to go to college and classes? Would he have been able to keep going out at night, and keep that secret to himself? 

He’ll never know, he supposes. 

“I think that’s it for today.” Dick says, swinging off the jungle gym and landing on the mats with a cat-like thump. Behind him, Jay groans, and drops with a less graceful thud as Dick stretches out his spine. There’s a satisfying pop-pop-pop of his back as he leans back. 

He turns, and sees Jay going for his water bottle. He looks tired — from what, Dick doesn’t know. But there are dark bags under his eyes and a sleep-distracted look on his face. He’s been distracted, and their lessons have been suffering from it. 

Dick wants to know what’s bothering him, but Jay hasn’t said anything, and Dick doesn’t know what he could say to make it better. 

“I can still keep going.” Jason insists, but he tiredly slumps over to grab his water, and straightens up sluggishly. It’s probably not a lie, but anything Dick shows him he doubts that Jay will retain it. “You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh but I want to.” Dick says, walking over to grab his own water. “I’m human too you know—” and Jay snorts at him with a grumbled ‘doubt it’. “—so I also need my breaks.” 

“With the way you can bend I really don’t think so.” Jason mutters, eyeing him up and down. Dick laughs quietly and takes a long sip of his water. “Seriously, circus boy, what do they feed you? Actually - what did they feed myself?”

Dick’s laughter doubles as Jay’s eyes grow wide and wild, his head shaking with spasming arms. “No, seriously! I don’t know if you’ve seen the other me yet, Dick, but he- he’s fucking huge!” He exclaims, and jumps as high as he can as his arms try to make a silhouette above his head. “I- I’m almost as big as Jack Fenton, and we’re not even biologically related! I don’t know where he got that much height to him, ‘cause- ‘cause Willis, that drunk bastard, was never that big!” 

Dick hasn’t seen the elusive other Jason Todd, and he’s been so curious about him. Both he and Bruce have — especially considering that everyone else doesn’t seem to want to tell them about him. He tried stopping his other self to ask about Jason Todd of his world, and his other self just said that he was his little brother and the second robin, and that he did a lot of his own stuff. 

It was a whole bunch of fucking nothing. And he and Bruce were growing suspicious about it. They hadn’t thought of it before because, well, they were busy adjusting to being in a new world and trying to figure out a way back. And then Jason was never really brought up, but neither was Dick Grayson unless Dick asked about it, and he didn’t think to ask about Jason Todd before.

It was all just strange.

But Jay’s exclamation over the size of himself distracts Dick long enough that he forces himself to put the mystery of Jason Todd on the backburner for now. “I’ll- I’ll have to see him for myself, Jaybird.” He says when his laughter subsides, and he straightens up. 

“Seriously,” Jay stresses, and he starts to make his way towards the gym door. “He’s fucking massive, Dick. Built like a brick shithouse.” 

Dick almost starts laughing again, “Where did you even learn that phrase?” 

Jay rolls his shoulders back and grins at him slyly, “I read.” He says, and it’s so clearly not how he learned that word that Dick barks out a laugh. 

They reach the door, and Jay holds the door open as Dick reaches for the light switch. He looks behind him, surveying the room quickly to make sure that there’s nothing they could have left on the floor, before turning off the lights.

Bright green eyes stare at him from the mirror. Right where Jay is standing. 

In an instant, the lights are back on. Dick’s heart has been kickstarted into fifth gear, suddenly and loudly racing in his chest as he darts his head around the room. It was only two seconds, perhaps only even one, but fear has been shot like an adrenaline needle into Dick’s veins. An inhuman, skyrocketing fear alike to Scarecrow’s fear gas. 

What was that?

What was that?

WHAT WAS THAT?  

But there’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There is only Jason where the eyes were. 

From the mirror’s reflection, Jason turns his head — he hadn’t been looking at Dick, he hadn’t been looking at Dick — and stares up at him. There is confusion written on his face as he glances up at Dick, and then at the mirror. He meets his eyes - Jason’s blue, blue, not green, eyes — and Dick forces himself to look away from the mirror and down at Jay.

“What was that for?” Jay asks him, perfectly normal and perfectly confused. 

Dick feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s panting, he doesn’t know why, and he forces himself to sound like he wasn’t as he wets his lips and furrows his brows. “I thought I saw something.” He says, frowning. 

He didn’t think. He did. He did. 

What did he see? 

It was standing where Jay was. Those eyes. Those green-green eyes. It was where Jay was. He forces himself to shake his head, his frown deepening, unsettled. Jason peers around him as if to see what he had, and Dick puts a hand on his chest, stopping him. “It was nothing, let's go.” 

He turns Jay around, and ignores his bewildered look. That lighthearted mood he had earlier has plummeted, replaced with an eerie paranoia as he takes the door from Jason’s hand and flicks the lights back off. 

When he looks over his shoulder at the mirror, there’s nothing there. 

—------------

Danny has another nightmare. It’s the same one. It’s dark again. That high pitched laughter fills his ears. The ticking is louder, louder, louder. It’s counting down, but to what - he can’t see — he can’t see what it’s counting down to. 

There is still so much pain. His head hurts, his body hurts. He has a body now, he can remember he has a body. He’s in so much pain. He looks down at his hands and pooling around his knees is a bloody yellow cape, it’s torn and bloody and his hands are bloody and torn and he’s wearing green gloves. 

He wakes up just before the ticking stops. He doesn’t know how he knows that the ticking stops. 

Danny rolls over and hangs himself sideways off the bed, gasping for air that doesn’t come. He wants to scream again, to shriek with such terror that it sends everyone in the manor running into his room. He doesn’t, he can’t, he has no mouth and he must scream. 

Danny gasps for air instead, and then dry heaves until he throws up onto the floor. His head is spinning with the fadings of a dream-made concussion, again. His chest hurts deeper, more, it’s no longer shallow and as if someone was sitting on his chest, like someone had beat him in the stomach and chest and head.  

He feels like he’s choking. He is, he’s choking on what bile he can’t get out of his throat, and he forces himself to swallow it back down. He’s crying, he realizes, and dragging in air down into his lungs to the point it hurts. 

What is going on? He thinks through the haze in his mind. With what lucidity he has he brings a hand to his head to make sure he’s not bleeding. His palm swipes against sticky skin, and all that comes back is sweat. He’s not bleeding. He feels like he is. 

Make it stop. His inner mind wails as he finally, finally, starts to calm down again. He’s still crying. The tears burn down his cheeks, and he absently sticks out his tongue and licks the ones that gather at his lips away. He wipes at his face again, and when he looks at his hands, all he sees is skin.

He’s not wearing gloves. 

His hands reach for his back, and grasp his sweat-soaked shirt instead. He’s not wearing a cape. It soothes him, just a little bit. But not enough to keep him feeling safe. 

Danny peers over the side of the bed, and through his dark-adjusted eyes he sees the sitting puddle of throw-up on the floor. He cringes, sniffling. He can’t keep that there. He needs to — he needs to clean that up. 

Alfred must be sleeping by now — what time is it? He doesn’t know. He can’t wake him up. Where does Alfred keep the cleaning supplies? 

Danny throws his legs over the side — they’re not broken, he thinks dazedly — why would he think they’re broken? — and he stumbles to the door. He avoids, somehow, the sick.

(He passes by a mirrored vanity on his way to the door. He doesn’t see his reflection staring at him with green-green eyes. He doesn’t see those eyes following him.) 

He runs into Bruce in the hallway. He should have guessed it so. Danny freezes in his tracks, fear shooting up into his throat as Bruce turns towards him, already a smile pulling on the older man’s face. 

It drops immediately when he sees him. It twists down, and his face burrows into concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Bruce is kneeling before him before Danny can blink. He looks worried. Danny must look awful then.

(He does. He looks pale as a ghost, and his face is splotchy red and shiny with tears.) 

Danny blinks at him numbly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Bruce’s hands are on his shoulders, Danny throws his hands over them, squeezing the knuckles and blinking widely. “I had-” he licks his lips, “a- uh, nightmare. And then I threw up.”

Fuck, he feels like a toddler. His eyes burn with embarrassed tears. He’s fucking thirteen. He’s not a baby. But he feels like a little kid going to their parent’s room. Bruce isn’t even his dad. He shouldn’t feel this way. 

But Bruce doesn’t make fun of him, or scold him, and Danny didn’t really expect him to, but the concern that melts over his face as his eyes soften makes him feel all warm and fuzzy anyways. “Okay,” Bruce says, expression softened but no less worried, and stands up. “Okay, we can go find Alfred then.” 

Danny’s lips press together, uneven and wobbling. “Please don’t.” He says before he can stop himself, and his voice cracks. He feels like such a baby. “I can clean it myself. We don’t have to wake him up.” 

“Do you even know where the cleaning supplies are, chum?” Bruce asks, and in the dark hallway he can see him raise an eyebrow. Danny’s lips press tighter together. He doesn’t. But he can find it. 

They wake up Alfred. Dany feels like shit the entire time. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaks as he follows Alfred and Bruce down the hallway with a mop and a bucket. He’s so embarrassed. He’s going to cry again, and he hates it. “I can do it, Mister Pennyworth. Please.” 

“You sound,” Mister Pennyworth starts, his voice soft, “just like young Master Jason when he started living here.” He turns to throw Danny an endeared smile, and Danny thinks it’s supposed to make him feel better. It does, a little bit, and it also makes him feel worse. 

“I am Jason.” He says, and tears spill down his face again. He is Jason. That’s his name. It’s not Danny, it never has been. The time he’s been here has slowly been pointing that out to him. He may be Fenton, but he’s not Danny. 

Alfred gets it all cleaned up, and Bruce sticks with him after he leaves. Danny’s grateful and resentful of it — hasn’t he embarrassed himself enough tonight? 

Bruce leads him to the library, a funny parallel to the first time. “We can ask Mister Wayne —” Bruce’s face scrunches up slightly, and Danny laughs under his breath. At least he’s not the only one still weirded out by it. “— about getting you a new room tomorrow.” 

Danny sniffs dryly, “How’d you know?” He didn’t think it was obvious that he didn’t want to go to sleep in his room. Bruce smiles knowingly at him, sadly, and they both sit down in the lounge chair next to the fireplace. It sits across from Danny’s armchair.

“I know a thing or two about nightmares.” He says softly.

Oh. 

Yeah.

That’s right. His parents. 

He probably had nightmares about that. 

Danny looks away from him, his eyes drop to his hands. His bare, non-bloody hands. He leans into Bruce’s side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He mumbles. He doesn’t want to talk about dying. Or what he thought was dying.  

“And you don’t have to.” Bruce says, slinging one arm around him and slumping against the curve of the chair. Danny reluctantly follows his falling, and finds himself trapped between the back of the chair and Bruce’s side. His ear is pressed to Bruce’s heartbeat. “We can just sit here, and talk about something else.” 

Danny blinks at the empty fireplace. “Okay. Tell me about films again.” 

Bruce’s fingers dig gently into his hair, and scratch slowly against his scalp. “Okay, Danny.” 

Danny frowns. “And don’t call me Danny. It’s Jason.” 

He doesn’t look up to see Bruce’s smile, but he can hear it as the man thumbs over the shell of his ear. “Okay, Jason.” 

(Danny falls asleep halfway through Bruce’s telling of the history of the Grey Ghost. Bruce knows by the way his breathing slows into a steady rhythm and his eyes don’t open.) 

(He smiles for mite a moment, before it drops and his eyes turn to the bookshelf in the corner. Standing there is a small black figure, with two burning green eyes.) 

(They stare at each other for a long, long minute, Bruce’s heart rising slowly. The figure tilts its head, and disappears. Bruce doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.) 

—-------

Danny stares down Bruce. Bruce stares him down back. It’s morning. It’s breakfast. Everyone is at the table eating, and he and Bruce are having a silent staring contest. Danny has to ask Mister Wayne about moving to a new room, he thought he would be able to do so after breakfast. 

(Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to ask at all - why bother Mister Wayne about something he can get over?) 

(Bruce, apparently, wasn’t having it. With that stupid knowing look on his face.) 

But Bruce wants it to be now. Danny narrows his eyes at him, and Bruce raises an eyebrow back. Dick Grayson, his world, was going to notice soon. He was sitting next to Bruce this morning. That traitor. 

If you don’t do it, I will. Bruce’s face says. Bastard. Danny was going to take away his Jason rights.

Danny’s the first to relent, pressing his lips together into an annoyed, thin line, before he lets out a silent sigh and turns to Mister Wayne. “Mister Wayne?” He says, cringing slightly when Mister Wayne looks up at him - as with most of the room. 

“Yes, Danny?” 

He spares one last look at Bruce, who nods curtly at him, and Danny throws him one last annoyed look before turning back to Mister Wayne. “Would it, uh, be fine if I changed rooms?” He asks. 

Mister Wayne tilts his head, slightly, to the side with a look of interest. “You can, but what brought this up? Is everything okay?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Danny was expecting that question. He glares at Bruce from the corner of his eye. And then smiles shakily at Mister Wayne. “Um, uh, yeah. Everything’s fine— it’s just, it’s stupid. Some, some stupid nightmares keeping me up.” 

Mister Wayne’s brows furrow, and Dick looks concerned from Danny’s peripherals. “It’s not stupid, you can change your room. I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares.”

He doesn’t even ask what they’re about. Bruce didn’t either — he thinks he would’ve, maybe — but fuck, jeez. Danny laughs uncomfortably, scratching his jaw. “Yeah- um, thanks. It sucks.” He just barely stops himself from blurting out that he was dreaming that he was dying.

That was not a can he wanted to open. They would have questions, he knows they would, and he doesn’t want to think about it. The image of his bloody, torn hands are already seared into his mind. 

Everyone goes back to eating.

(Dick keeps looking up at him with a shadow of a frown on his face, like he’s keeping an eye on him. Quick enough that Danny doesn’t notice it. Bruce does, and watches his son from the corner of his eye.)

(Danny doesn’t see it, but his reflection turns its head. And peers around the back of its chair. Its eye burns green and it stares at Dick. The next time Dick looks up, it catches his eye.)

(He doesn’t straighten up, he forces himself not to react. He just keeps staring at it, his breath locked in his lungs, his limbs filling with a low, buzzing static. He doesn’t know what it is. It’s terrifying him.)

(The reflection doesn’t react to him, but its eyes seem to… glitch. And an eye appears next to it, and another one appears in a line. The pupils slowly turn to look… at Danny.)

(The window begins to crack.)

“JaSON!” Dick suddenly yells, standing up so abruptly that his chair falls back and slams against the ground with an echoing bang. Danny jerks back in surprise, and stares at Dick, who looks at him with equally wide eyes. 

Dick looks like he’s seen a ghost, his face pale as a sheet. He looks ill. He’s panting, there’s a sheen going over his forehead, like he’s just run a mile. But he’s gripping the table like he may just vault over it.

And everyone is looking at them both once again. Bruce looks incredibly concerned. 

“I— what?” Danny says, pushing his back into the chair as far as he could go. 

Dick blinks, and heaves a breath. Like whatever trance he was in was just… snapped out of. His brows furrow, and he moves, suddenly, peering over Danny like he’s trying to look around him. Left, right, and over, and then back again. 

“You—” he pauses, breathing in, “you looked like you were about to disappear.” 

Danny stares at him in disbelief. And he looks behind him, laughing nervously. There’s nothing there but his own reflection in the smooth glass window. “What- what kind of fucking—” he turns back around to look at Dick. “Why would you say that?” 

“There was something in the window.” Dick says immediately, and Danny is immediately rising to his feet and rushing around the table. Nope - nope, nope, fuck that. He’s by him and Bruce in an instant, as the other Waynes stand up and turn to the window as well.

Dick’s arms are around him the moment he’s within reach, tugging him into his side as one hand presses down against his chest, keeping him close. Dick hasn’t taken his eyes off the window, brows furrowed and serious. 

Everyone looks so serious. It’s freaking him out a little bit. 

“What was your nightmare about, Jay?” Dick asks when he finally tears his eyes away from the window and looks down at him. He’s got a protective hold on him, something so similar to Jazz whenever their parents set something on fire upstairs. 

Danny swallows dryly — does he have to say it? Saying it might bring him back to it, and he doesn’t want to go back to it. Twice was enough for him. “I was dying.” He admits anyways, and regrets it immediately when half a dozen heads all snap to look at him. 

In a panic, his mouth runs. “I was- I don’t remember anything- I just, it was dark and I was in pain and-” He presses his lips together, “I— I was in so much pain. There was this laughter—” Laughter. Familiar laughter now that he thinks about it. From the news. Danny’s lips curl downwards, and he whispers to himself, “Joker?”

“Joker?” Dick repeats, his voice hard. When Danny looks up, his face is unrecognizably stern. “You had a dream that the Joker was killing you?” 

“I— no— yes?” Frustration bleeds into his chest, fear pooling up his throat as the nightmare pulls on the edge of his memory. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t see anything, all I heard was ticking and that stupid laughter. And I was bleeding, and I was wearing this yellow fucking cape, and- and I was dying.” 

He pulls himself away from Dick, his breathing picking up. “I just- I was— there was this ticking sound and I woke up before it stopped, and I- I don’t know why I knew it was about to stop — but I know that when the ticking stops something bad was going to happen— and it was just a nightmare.” 

Danny grits his teeth, and looks back up at Dick, forcing himself to calm down before he works himself into a panic. “It was just a fucking nightmare, Dick.” He says forcibly, and then he marches out of the room to the library. 

His appetite’s been ruined. 

—---------

Danny’s — Jason’s — asleep next to him. Bruce would think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that Jason’s been having nightmares about dying of all things. Nightmares that weren’t, he suspects, completely unfounded. 

His other self looked ill in the face as Jason marched out of the room that morning after Dick’s outburst. Outburst. That’s all he can think to call it even if it sounds juvenile. Like it was unfounded as Jason’s nightmare. 

His other self has been hiding something from him. Something about Jason Todd of this world, who he hasn’t seen at all since they arrived, but Danny — Jason — has. He would’ve thought the other Todd was a ghost if his other world’s… children… hadn’t confirmed seeing and knowing him recently. 

(That was something he still hasn’t fully comprehended. Children, plural? He adopts more after Dick? He has a biological son?) 

He’d be interrogating his other self on this if Jason wasn’t asleep next to him. It would be remarkably easy, as they were all sitting in the living room for the afternoon. All his other children were vigilantes, he wouldn’t need to keep pretenses.

But Jason is asleep next to him, and he doesn’t know. So he resolves to staring holes into his other self’s head, who was going through documents. A case, he bets. His other self doesn’t pay him any mind, but Bruce knows he knows that he’s staring at him. 

(“What have you been keeping from me?” He growls the moment Jason is out of the dining room, rising to his feet. The look on his other self meant that he knew something about those nightmares that Bruce didn’t. 

His other self looks at him, “Nothing that concerns your world.” He says, all of the kids looked tense as well, but now they were staring between the both of them like a fight would break out. 

“Bullshit.” Dick snaps before Bruce can speak, he walks around him and points an accusing finger at his other self. “You looked like you saw a ghost when Jaybird said he was dreaming of the Joker killing him. You know something.”

He did not tell them anything.) 

Whatever it was that his other self was hiding, Bruce would find out before they went back to their world. This concerned him, and it concerned Jason’s safety. If he wasn’t safe and his other self knew something about it, Bruce would be furious. 

Jason’s ragged gasp cut through the air like a knife, and Bruce’s gaze snapped down to his face as the boy’s eyes flew open and he jerked sharply. Jason’s hands were latched onto his shirt before Bruce could react, his nails dragging into his skin like he was trying to claw himself up.

It was another nightmare. Jason was clawing at him, trying to sit himself up while jagged, awful sounding gasps filled the air. He wasn’t looking at Bruce, he wasn’t looking at anything, his eyes glazed over like he was still trapped in the nightmare. 

Bruce wrapped his arms around the small boy and pulled them both down onto the ground, ignoring his other children standing up and looking at them until he had Jay in a cradle. 

The boy was still gasping for air, hyperventilating. His hands drop from Bruce’s shirt and scratch at his throat, his arms forming an ‘x’ while he tilts his head back and desperately tries to draw in oxygen. Bruce tilts his head back up with his hand, and leans him against his shoulder. 

“Breathe.” He murmurs, pushing damp black curls out of Jay’s face. It was a poor command - Jason’s eyes were squeezed shut and his face scrunched in pain, Bruce doesn’t think he can even hear him. “You’re safe.” 

“Bruce.” Dick hisses into his ear, and Bruce doesn’t look at him. He grunts to let his son know he heard him. “The mirror.” 

Bruce’s eyes fly up.

There was a floor length mirror sitting in front of the couch. A mirror that Bruce was conveniently, coincidentally, sitting in front of. A mirror that should have been working as all mirrors do. 

A mirror that, instead of showing Bruce his reflection back as he was, showed him in his Batman suit. Jason was in his arms, but in a torn, bloody uniform. A uniform that looked like a Robin suit. Jason - his Jason - wasn’t a Robin. But here he was, dressed as one, his black-yellow cape pooling beneath him and covered in blood. 

The Jason in the mirror, the Robin, wasn’t breathing. His head lolled over Bruce’s arm lifelessly. 

Bruce’s heart skids to a stop, and he looks back down. Jason was still breathing, his hyperventilating was beginning to slow, but he was breathing. The pained crease of his face was softening, even as his brows were still furrowed. 

When Bruce looks back up at the mirror, the reflection has changed. It wasn’t back to normal, Jason was just in a different suit. He was wearing a white hazmat suit now, and he was burned, horribly. The suit was melted to his skin in patches around his body in black, charred splotches, what wasn’t burned was torn, and the skin he could see was cauterized. The only part of him that was bleeding was his head, and it soaked his black hair red. What of his face he could see, there were bright green lightning figures going up his neck, burning the skin around where it glows. 

The mirror cracks down the middle, severing Jason from Bruce. 

He forces himself to look down, terrified to see the reflection a reality right in front of him. But Jason was alive, uninjured, and breathing quietly. Bruce presses two fingers to his throat, and feels a steady pulsepoint thumping against the pads of his fingers.

Jason’s eyes open and blue stares up at him.  

When Bruce looks up at the mirror, the reflection is back to normal.  

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER THREE - some faces are friendlier than others.

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

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TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

Fluorescent lights, you've come to realize, might be the lowest layer of hell.  Lower than high school and broken noses and every other unpleasant thing you've experienced thus far in your short life.

The low buzz and flicker of the sterile fixtures above your head seemed to follow you everywhere; almost mocking you.  They were there years ago in the hospital as you held bloodied newspapers up to your disfigured nose, watching the nurses talk to your social worker about what to do with you—then again at your first time working a full nightshift at the gas station down the street.  They were there at every adoption party growing up as you stood in the corner, awkwardly shuffling your feet as you—begrudgingly—introduced yourself to every adult that approached you.  Every school you attended, every clinic, hospital, and residency had them; lights sent from hell to assault your eyes specifically.

Even now, as you shoot upright in the spare dorm-like room Price supplied you with, the fixtures are above your head.  The only difference is that this time, they’re off.  Your brain swims, your breathing tight and fleeting as you grasp the fabric of your sweater in attempts to calm your raging heart.  When that doesn’t work, you throw the covers off and stumble for the door.   Cold, bare feet hitting the linoleum as shaky hands fumble through the dark for the bathroom doorknob.  When you finally get inside, you retch into the sink.

Everything between arriving at your house two days ago and ending up here is a blur.

You don’t leave your room much after the talk with Price—fully content to just sleep the days and nights away until the nightmares took hold.  You only wake up whenever Price knocks on your door and coasts you out to show you around.

You don't know what to think about him---not yet---but you're pretty sure he's safe.  He's painfully British; with thick facial hair framing his face and the faint smell of cigar smoke lingering on his fatigues when you open the door.  Unlike the others you've seen hanging around, always looking very official in pristine business-casual wear or covered head to toe in gear, he has a worn hat that never leaves his head.

He shows you the basics, introducing you to his colleagues around the building and making conversation as you walk.

The bathroom is down the hall, dining facility is downstairs, medical wing on the first floor, the common areas, Laswell’s office, and Price’s office…you can’t say you were able to pay much attention.

Not when that huge, skull-masked Lieutenant is in the same room as you for some of it.

It's then that you learn his name.

"Ghost?"  You question, raising an eyebrow.  You watch the man in question—looking utterly out of place as he slides over to sit with a few others at a table nearby.  He's dressed casually in a black jacket and dark tactical pants; but the balaclava and mask still remain. 

Price places a hand on your shoulder.

"Ghost, Soap…"  he nods towards the Scot you recognize from the day before.  He looks a bit more approachable than his masked counterpart, at least—poking fun at the Lieutenant next to him.  There's a thick bandage around his forearm where you bit him yesterday.

Then, Price gestures to the only one you haven't met yet.  "...And Gaz.”

The man is already looking at you when you meet his gaze, but he quickly glances away again, distracted by Soap who claps a hand to his shoulder.  Whatever he says must be funny, because Gaz laughs and shakes his head, distracted.

"Weird names," you remark, and that earns a chuckle from the captain.

"Callsigns," he replies.  "Nicknames, basically.  Stick around long enough you might earn one yourself…but let's hope not."

You nod.  Your hand comes up to once again brush at the cold dog tags around your neck. "Right.  Yeah, let's hope not."

"You'll be spending a lotta time with 'em for now, probably," Price says, tugging at the brim of his hat as he continues walking, briefly catching your gaze.  "So, I suggest you get used to 'em."

A knot of dread forms in your stomach at his statement.  You glance behind you as you walk—eyes locked on the skull mask.  Again, your head reels with the memory of yesterday.  Gunshots.  Yelling.  Blood on your sneakers.

Blood, blood, blood.

You swallow heavily, "Even Ghost?"

You're sure your unease isn't lost on Price from the way he looks at you.  He places a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, giving it a couple pats as he guides you along with an affirmative nod.  

“Yes,” he says.  "Even Ghost."

The thought makes your mind uneasy.  You swear your heart hasn’t stopped jackrabbiting in your chest since you left your house.  It feels like you should be running, fighting, escaping—something—but instead you find yourself barely leaving your bed.  Your hands itch for your phone to distract yourself but, alas, the only thing Price left you with is your blood-splattered sneakers which sit in the corner.  For good reason, you suppose.

You spend hours staring at the light fixtures above your head in the spare bunk, thinking about everything in your life that's led you up to this point; your father's lies, endless adoption papers, letters, and bright fluorescent lights.  Everything and nothing all at once.  When you finally get to sleep, that's when you find yourself jolting awake at night and stumbling to the bathroom.

When the gagging finally calms, you stand there.  Clammy hands grip the edges of the sink as you breathe—in and out—and swallow back the bitter bile that sticks to your throat.  In your panic, you never even bothered to turn on the lights, and your eyes shine as you make eye contact with your reflection in the dark, dingy mirror.  Light spills in from the hallway behind you, casting a halo of light on your frazzled hair.

Ugh.  You look awful; your bruised eye swollen and irritated again from tossing and turning. The skin on your arms and face is still rubbed raw from viciously scrubbing the blood off in the shower days ago, and you still didn't feel clean. Dried tears streak your face from crying in your sleep.  The thought alone of someone seeing you like this is enough for you to steal yourself.  You take a shaky breath in before letting it out, and you switch on the sink to wash your vomit down the drain.  While you’re at it, numb hands cup the freezing running water before splashing some onto your face, and you stare at yourself for a little while—acquainting yourself with the reality that yes.  This is happening.  Your father faked his death before dying again and now there’s people after you; the man with the scar on his face, you assume, and maybe others.  No, you don’t know the code that Price mentioned and no—you don’t know what’s going on.

You swallow again.

It is what it is.

The dog tags glint against the low light as you turn the faucet off.

Your breathing settled and your heart rate calmed, you're left with a shakiness that comes with the lack of adrenaline.  You lean against the sink for a moment, basking in the silence as the last of your nightmare fades.  You're so lost in thought that the sound of shuffling and low voices in the hallway are almost, almost lost on you.

"It was supposed to be a quiet mission for a reason."

Price's voice can be heard, muffled, down the hall—and you freeze slightly.

"Yeah, well…you can thank the Shadows for that one."  Another, deeper, British accent replies.  One that makes the hairs on your neck prickle.  "'Mission was to extract the kid.  That's it.  If Johnny didn't shoot first, Graves would've.  And we both know how that would've ended."

Price sighs tiredly in response, their voices growing closer as they turn the corner.  You can almost picture him running a hand down his face as he does, the other on his hip.  Then, their footsteps stop a little ways down the hall.

"'Suppose you're right," he says.  "Just…try not to scare 'em too bad.  You know Sparky would want—"

"Yeah…I know," Ghost grunts back, interrupting.  "No promises."

A moment passes. 

There's an unspoken goodbye before you hear footsteps fading off again, signaling one of them has left.  You take a breath and wipe your face before stepping out into the hallway.  You feel his gaze flicker to you as you cross the threshold and pretend not to notice him.  Shaky hands fumble with the doorknob.

It feels eerily similar to the first time you both met.  When he effortlessly killed two men, splattered the blood on you, and then turned around so nonchalantly and asked—

"You good?"  

You freeze up.  Finally, you turn to look at him.

He's not wearing the mask.  Not the skull one, at least, and it works to ease your nerves a little.  The fact that you can see an eyebrow rise at you through a balaclava helps you remember that he is—somehow—human.  A human with a plastic water bottle, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter in his hand with no gun in sight.

You wipe your face again.  Your throat is tight as you speak, as if you've forgotten how to do it altogether, "peachy."

He huffs a breath at your sarcasm, but he doesn't press further.  

"Good," he says.  "'Cause it looks like you've seen a ghost."

You scoff, "you're not funny."

He shifts and tosses you the water bottle in his hand.  You flinch and just barely manage to catch it by the cap.  Then, confused by the gesture, you look back up at him.

"Keep your head up, kid," he says, the subtle softness of his tone not lost on you—although it seems completely foreign.  "'Cause, with the way things are lookin', it'll get worse before it gets better."

It's strange and cryptic.  Your heart lodges in your throat from the strange advice as you lower your brow at him.  "What does?"

"The blood."

You let out a shaky breath, looking away.   "That's hardly comforting."

A moment passes where he just looks at you.  You're unsure what he sees; other than a pathetic, disheveled teenager who just finished dry heaving into a public bathroom sink over a stupid nightmare.  You feel uncomfortable—like he's reading your thoughts, or maybe he's just amused that you're scared of him.  You’re unsure.

"Maybe not," he shrugs and finally looks away, unlocking his door.  "But it's the truth."

You swallow down your unease as you look down at the water bottle.  

A part of you knows he’s right.  Whatever your father got himself tangled up in—it involved you now.  You were being chased and if there was anything you knew about how these stories went; someone was going to end up dead.  Sulking wasn’t going to get you answers, and it certainly wasn’t going to help you going forwards.  You had no idea how the people in the movies, comics, video games, and TV shows always seemed so put-together.  How they—Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and your father—managed to sleep at night with what they did.  What they saw.

"Does it get easier?"  You ask, for some reason.   Your voice is quiet.  Strained.  

Ghost seems caught off guard by the question, because he hesitates in his doorway—a gloved hand resting on the doorknob.  He doesn’t look at you, not really, and you don’t look at him.  You can hear the rain tapping against the window at the end of the hall and the sound of thunder rumbling across the sky above.  You figure he can read minds, because he seems to completely understand what you’re asking without needing to explain much.

“If you’ve seen enough,” he finally speaks.  “Yes ... you do get used to it.”

A moment passes before he shifts and looks at you again. 

“But try not to," he adds. "Your old man didn’t die just for you to get screwed up like the rest of us.”

And, with that, he steps into his quarters and shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the sterile hallway.  Fluorescent lights flicker above your head.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @karurururu @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech

[smoochhyuka]

Tyun's NSFW alphabet

He is the full package.

-> Yeonjun Soobin Beomgyu Hueningkai

○o。content warning! NSFW obvie, gn!reader, public sex, bondage, orgasm controll, VERY BRIEF mentions of anal (m!receiving), switch!Tyun, unedited

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Taehyun has a burst of energy! A total chatterbox afterwards, but the very first thing he does is to clean up any bodily fluids that might have spilled at any point during ✨the do✨, since he doesn't like to be sticky. If the sex was (semi)planned, he would have prepared wet wipes to be in close proximity, if it was completely spontaneous (or maybe at an unfamiliar place), he'd try to get a towel or tissue paper. You can just stay put and he cleans you, it's his way for showing you his pure adoration, especially if the sex was on the rough side. Afterwards he will definitely cuddle you very hard and talk your ear off, maybe he'll do some push ups.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your face, just your whole face. His favorite way to kiss you is to cup your face with both of his hands, doesn't matter if the kiss is passionate or docile. Your smile is so precious to him, he'll always look out for you and your micro expressions. Obviously he also loves to watch your face contort in pleasure, it's such a turn-on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he cums, he cums hard. Lots of sperm, slight twitching. It'll take a while to get there (is it weird I hc him to be circumcised?) but it's the sexiest thing to witness. The consistency, taste and opacy wary a lot, since his diet and routines change with his schedule.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a fantasy where he's blindfolded and tied to a chair, at your total mercy. The dirty part would be were you let him sit there for hours, maybe even turn on the TV for a while and just occasionally increase the vibrations of the vibrator in his ass or stroke his cock a few times. There is NO WAY he would even mention that unless you show interest in such a thing by yourself. It kind of goes against everything he expects from intercourse with you, therefore it is not something he'd need to happen anyways.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think Taehyun mentioned once he never had a partner? Don't quote me on that. But I honestly don't think he has a lot of experience, and the first few times can be a little bit clumsy, depending on your experience as well. But he is a fast learner.

F = Favorite position

Every position that allows him to look at your face. Usually it's missionary (convenience and he loves to spoil you) but he also likes lotus position, doggy style in front of a mirror and especially cowgirl, it's usually reserved for special occasions though.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It highly depends on you, he can do either. He tends to be on the more serious side naturally, but if you like to laugh and giggle he is definitely not opposed to it and might even crack a few jokes after a while.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He does groom his pubic hair, keeping it clean and short shaven, but he doesn't like to be bare. He feels more masculine with a hair downstairs and wouldn't like it if you asked him to shave.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Maybe it's because I am very vanilla and I am projecting but I think Tyuns going to be sweet and take good care of you. :( Again, if the sex is (semi) planned he will not only prepare wet wipes but also light a candle or two and spray his most used perfume on the pillows and blanket. He really likes to get you in the mood by massaging you and playing a sensual playlist he created for fucking you specifically.

J = Jack off

When he's single I don't think he jerks off a whole lot, maybe once a week, since weightlifting often time takes off the edge a young man might feel in the evenings lol. The amount per week does increase with stress though, especially if he is too busy to go to the gym.

Ever since you started to date he stopped complitely, if he's horny he's just going over to meet you. He tends to get a bad case of post nut clarity after jerking off so he keeps it minimal even on tour and usually only does it on facetime with you.

K = Kink

I see a lot of size kink with Tyun but maybe he'll also like a strong s/o? A gym buddy, someone who is at least capable of pushing him down, doesn't need to be a full head lock of course. Speaking of being held down, he is so into handcuffs and restraints, on both ends. It's the level of trust that is shared between you two that does it for him, he is sappy about that. He is giving everything of himself in that moment to you (or vise versa), there is nothing more romantic and intimate as that?

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He is definitely not an exhibionist, and prefers a controlled environment, but he still likes to be a little unconventional to spice things up. The balcony, the back of a car, someones bedroom at a party, an empty beach, the park bench during a midnight stroll... They're all valid choices for him. But his favorite place will stay a big king sized bed with lots of pillows.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you dress up for any event really, doesn't matter if someones wedding, a job interview, a night out with your friends or a date with him, he always imagines how he will fuck you in that outfit you are currently wearing.

Domesticity is also a huge turn on, in one moment you do the dishes the next he has you panting for air. Don't fold the laundry in front of him you will have sex on it and you will have to wash them again.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Might be projecting but he wouldn't do anything that demeans or humilates either one of you. No spitting or slapping the face, no demeaning insults (Maybe something along the lines of "You are being slutty today." is okay since it implies that you are indeed not a slut, but he wouldn't look at you with a straight face and call you a bitch or a slut.) and not acting like one of you is superior to the other. Sex is intimate and romantic, anything demeaning would take him straight out of the moment and make him feel unsafe and unloved.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He does tend to give since he just loves to take good care of you, but he doesn't have a preference in actuality, as long as you both get to cum anything is fine with him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It's obvious from the previous answers but he is definitely a more sensual guy, taking his sweet sweet time. He can definitely be more rough if the mood calls for it though.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You'll have a lot of oral sex with Tyun, often times you won't even have penetrative sex especially if it's supposed to be a quickie, since he tends to take a little longer to cum and just likes to be thorough with you, sex is a way to convey his love to you after all. But generally he doesn't mind them, they would just be... medium quick.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He doesn't mind taking a little bit of a risk when doing it outside (they're still semi-controlled spaces tho), but in general he likes to play it safe. He wouldn't be able to enjoy it if he needed to think of your safety.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Taehyun lasts a while. He can pull it out, cooldown a little bit and then continue on as if he wasn't almost there. He can definitely prolong his orgasm for a good few hours. Even after he already came, if you give him a moment he can get hard again, he might not cum a second time but it's definitely enough to fuck you for a while longer if that's what you wanted. Thanks to that boost of energy he is also still in to pleasure you with his mouth.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any and isn't all too adament on using them but he is definitely willing to if you show interest in them, especially if it is something both of you can use.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you, especially when massaging you (yes Tyun and massaging is a fantasy of mine, how could you tell). He brushes against your sweet spots, takes a little longer massaging your ass. When you are out partying he will kiss your neck and hands in a way he knows you like, keeping a hand on your thighs everytime you sit down with your friends.

In bed he also likes to not only prolong his own orgasm but also yours, sometimes stopping everytime your crys get louder or your thighs start to shake.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not very loud, more of a heavy breather. Sometimes he will whine, especially if you are in charge. Close to his orgasm he will moan cutely, he can get quite loud if you edged him for a while.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It's 2am, my creativity has wourn off. He wears boxer briefs, he has both brands and no name. He gets turned on by clothes and although likes to be fully naked for the sensuality of things, sometimes he prefers you to keep on your underwear.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

13-15cm, a satisfactory length, neither overwhelming nor underwhelming. Again I kinda hc him to be circumsized? If not, he doesn't have a lot of foreskin. He has a slight curve and his cock tends to sit stiffly upwards against his tummy rather than forward, if that makes sense. It's the same color of his skin only the head is pink. His balls are on the smaller side.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Generally not as high, he kind of adapts to you since he gets easily turned on. It's not that he always wants it though, if you want him, he gets excited. He is a simple man.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quickly at all! He can stay up for a while, he might even get up and do some chores around the house the moment you fell asleep. He tends to stay away from doing it when it's too late for that exact reason, it's also not easy for him to get it up if he is already very tired.

[kiatheinsomniac]

ooo how about.. how would the assassins (your usual bunch) react to an s/o who loves and is really good giving the sloppy toppy? 👁️👅👁️

☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: it's been a while since I wrote some ac content hehe 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: altaïr, ezio, connor, arno, jacob 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, smut, oral (m. receiving)

｡･:*˚:✧｡altaïr ibn-la'ahad

♡ oh altaïr just loves that about you. He'll kindly ask for you to give him head after a long or frustrating day as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and kisses the back of your neck, breath fanning over the shell of your ear to seduce you (not that it takes a lot seeing as this is something you love to do).

♡ altaïr is the type to have you on your knees beneath his desk - it's one of his favourite places for the two of you to do this when the door is locked. He often has to pour over paperwork and letters and it's the least favourite part of his job.

♡ so, he'll just sit back, spread his legs to make room for you and set a hand upon your head as you get to work. He'll pet your hair and just feel the way you bob your head up and down as he loses himself in the sensation of you swallowing him down your throat and he'll be sure to remember this the next time he's stressing over work

｡･:*˚:✧｡ezio auditore

♡ oh Ezio is just thrilled that you enjoy giving him blowjobs so much. To begin with, he was very insistent on returning the favour but you've made it clear to him that's it's not necessary because you're not only doing it for him, you're doing it because you enjoy it. He never really asks for you to do this for him because he knows you'll do it of your own volition anyway.

♡ Ezio never seems to live alone throughout the franchise so I imagine that he prefers to do this in hidden places instead: maybe some secret spot of his down by the river arno, in some ruins in roma or perhaps in the tunnels beneath it, upon some rooftop with a view of costantinopoli's unique skyline. Either place is public, sure, but no one really goes there at the times he brings you there and so there's only the slightest risk of being caught.

♡ he tries to keep any groans and moans to a minimum so that the two of you won't be caught but he just loves to murmur words of praise to you all while you're down on your knees. He likes making you look up at him with your pretty eyes while you're down there. He lets you take the lead physically but he'll enjoy commanding you to go faster or slower or to take it deeper or use your tongue.

｡･:*˚:✧｡ratonhnhaké:ton | connor kenway

♡ he's quite shy about it but he'll never refuse you. He feels a little bad that you give him oral much more than he returns it but you've reassured him time and time again that this is something you're doing for the both of you and not just him so it's ok! He never, ever has any complaints though.

♡ seeing as Achilles' injury means he rarely leaves Davenport Manor, you and Connor often do this out in the woods around the homestead in a specific area that the two of you frequent just to be intimate together without having to worry about keeping things down so that the old man downstairs won't overhear you (you'd both be beyond mortified).

♡ Ratonhnhaké:ton knows he's big so he'll let you have complete control over what's going on. He'll have his hands on your head but it's mostly to just comb his fingers through your hair while he thanks you and tells you how good you make him feel through muffled whimpers as he bites his lips. He might tug your hair when he gets close to coming but he'll apologise the moment he realises he's doing it too much.

｡･:*˚:✧｡arno dorian

♡ as much as Arno respects that this is something you really love doing and he does like getting head from you, he's the type that genuinely prefers to give oral than to receive it. But at the same time he wants what will make you happy so he lets you have your fun.

♡ Arno tends to only do these things in private with you so this will mostly only happen in his home at the café-theatre or maybe in the club hall beneath it when he knows no one will walk in on the two of you.

♡ as said above, Arno prefers to give oral than to receive it and so his compromise is that when you want to give him oral, the two of you will often sixty-nine. He just loves having you sit on his face while your lips wrap around his cock and he can taste you on his tongue while he can feel the vibrations of your moans.

｡･:*˚:✧｡jacob frye

♡ Jacob thinks your mouth is absolutely incredible. He loves that you're always so eager to give him head and just how good you are at it. He's not too shy to spread his legs apart to make room for you while he pats his lap to beckon you over.

♡ If you're in a train carriage alone, Jacob will lock the doors, draw the curtains that look into the other carriages, and will set a pillow on the floor for your knees so that you don't get uncomfortable. He's not against a quickie here or there in some semi-public place where you could get caught so long as it's not somewhere dirty - you're a lady and you deserve better than that in his eyes.

♡ one of his favourite ways of doing this is to have you kneeling or sitting on the floor with your back to the wall, the back of your head touching it. He'll have you look up at him while he lets you take the lead or he starts off slow until he builds up to fucking your face. He just loves the noises you make and he's quick to bring you to your feet and messily kiss you the moment he's done or he wants to move on to something else.

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@veryfancydoilies @asuni921  @writing-noah @danielle-marie @minimisthios @tired-lime @ghostofpolaris @etherealsdreaming @havatnah @wolfwarrior06 @firagirl @catou1305 @b3k1720 @asianbutnotjapanese

[vortex-detected]

After Class

𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘭!𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (not specified) 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙: 𝘯𝘰 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.5K (my minho bias is showing-) 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: enemies to lovers, slow burn (kinda??), suggestive (making out), comfort 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: cursing, reader has a meltdown (like always?? why do i always do this), minho is kinda out of character (in my opinion, but its cute), minho is kinda mean? but its made up for, reader hits minho, lmk if i missed anything!! 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: You're one of the worst dancers in the class, according to Minho, and how much he pays you special attention because of how behind you are. Yet, why does he pick you as his partner for the pairing dance he assigned?

A/N: Hi. I thought of purple Lee Know when I wrote this, cause like.. why would I not?? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! This was a lot longer than I wanted, but I can't help it, it's Minho. I also listened to skz-replay on repeat as I listened to it, so like, shout out to skz-replay and the motivation it gave me?? I'm rambling, let's get on with the fic!!

“You know you’re doing the move completely wrong, right? Your left foot goes behind your right, not the other way around. Dumbass.” Minho says, glaring at you. “Well, Dumbass, you only showed the move once. Unlike some people, who watch the video once and get it immediately, some of us have to watch it more than once,” you reply, rolling your eyes. He smirks, “So we agree you take longer to learn the dance? Alright, good to know.” “You bit-” “Let’s keep going! Yeah?” he cuts you off, turning around to start the music again.

You sigh, watching him do the move again, making sure you saw how to do it right. Lee Minho is one of the best dancers in your class. He bossed people around, making sure the dances were perfected by everyone. He’d film videos at home, so he can come to class and show them. He took over the teacher's job, as she didn't do anything. She watched him in awe. Everyone did. Except you. You couldn’t deny him of his charms when he dances, or his handsome features. What you could do, though, was his personality. He was a bitch most of the time. Harsh words towards you when you specifically struggled with a move, only to keep you after class to pay special attention to you because “you need it.” It made you feel little, and you hated him for that. It seemed he hated you, too. 

“Yah, [Y/N]. Are you even listening to me?” Minho asked, snapping his fingers in front of you. You shake your head, suddenly getting shy. Everyone’s eyes on you made you want to crumble in a little ball. “Y-Yeah. Sorry. A lot’s been going on recently. Can… I go outside for a bit?” you said, looking down and messing with your fingers. “Be quick. I have an important role for you,” he said, making your head snap up as you looked at him. You nod quickly as you stumble out of the dance practice room, still very overwhelmed. 

You go to the roof as you sit down on the wall. You look up towards the sky, looking at all the clouds. You scroll through your messages and go to the group chat with you and all the dance majors.

Lee Minho- 11:24 PMHere’s the new choreo. I expect you to at least know the first by tomorrow's class.[Video Attachement]

You open the video and you stand up, propping your phone somewhere you can see it. You watch it a couple of times, eventually getting the hang of it. You start it over and start dancing. You watch Minho in the video, which he thoughtfully mirrored, so you didn’t have to do it yourself (really the only thing he’s good for). You follow his movements and just like that it’s over. You sit down, grabbing your phone. “You’ve improved in the, what, eight minutes you’ve been gone?” a voice startled you. You whip your head around to find Minho standing in the doorway. “How long have you been there?” you ask. “Long enough to understand why you took so long outside. Care to come back downstairs so I can show you what I have planned?” he asked (more like stated). You sigh, standing up. “Sorry,” you say, walking passed him. He grabs your arm to turn you around. You look at him, startled. He isn’t one for touching, so this surprised you. “I… wasn’t lying when I said you improved. You did great,” he said, looking at you sincerely. You nod, ripping your arm from his hold, “Thanks. I work better when I’m alone.” He hums, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now get downstairs before I push you down.” “Oh, ouch. And you’re back in your dance mode.” “I never left.”

You both reach the dance studio, only to find everyone in pairs. “What… is this?” you asked, looking at Minho. “Well, if you only returned to class five minutes ago, you’d know I put everyone in pairs. I paired everyone, and you-” he pauses to flick your forehead “are stuck with me.” he finished, smirking as he saw your face drop. “I’m- Minho I am your worst option, why did you pick me?” “To show your full potential. You’re better than you think, I saw it myself a couple of minutes ago. You just need the right environment.” he explained. “But-” “Alright guys, it’s almost three. Start wrapping up, and we’ll continue our pair dances tomorrow!” he cut you off, once again. You start walking towards your stuff, but then- “Oh, [Y/N]. Not you. We have to catch up to everyone else since you left for so long.” he smirked. You sigh and sit down, waiting for everyone to leave. 

Minho comes to sit by you asking you a few questions about what you wanted to do. “So, I was thinking of a hip-hop song? That seems like it would be your strong suit, as I saw up on the roof. What do you think?” he asked, not wanting to limit you to one genre. “I have my own question,” you ask, something burning at the back of your head. Everyone has already gone, so you can speak freely. “Ask away-” “What’s the real reason you chose me?” you ask, your insecurities slowly getting the best of you. “What? I already told you, dumbass-” “That. That right there. That’s why I’m so fucking confused, Minho.” you say, standing up suddenly. 

“You always told me how bad I was, telling me how much I needed to improve. Calling me a dumbass and slow for not getting it immediately. You always held me back after class just to scold me even more. Why choose me? I am the worst possible option for you. Your comments justify that, you know? I mean, Felix is a good dancer, I’m sure he’d understand if you wanted to switch with him-” “[Y/N.” “I won’t take it the wrong way because you deserve to dance with someone better than me-” “[Y/N].” “-Or Hyunjin! Hyunjin’s great. He seems to be close to you, too. So switch me out for him-” “[Y/N], please.” he pleaded, coming up to grab your hands. You stop pacing around and look at him. “Why? Why me?” you say, finally letting all your emotions out, the first tear falling. He sighs. 

“I want to get closer to you. I’ve always been mesmerized by you. You dance well, I hope you know that. You aren’t as bad as I make you out to be and I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You’re amazing, I-I was just teasing. I never actually thought about you that way. I sometimes get jealous of you because I think you dance so well, despite how long you’ve been in class. Yes, you do have things to improve on, but so do I. So do I. None of us are perfect and I- fuck- I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m truly sorry.” he rambles, pulling you into his chest. You sob into his shirt, clinging onto him. He rubs your back, making sure you feel safe. You pull away and stare at him. “I don’t know if I should be happy all of that was teasing or if I should be fucking furious at you,” you say, shaking your head. He chuckles, “If it’ll make you feel better, you can slap me.” You raise your hand, “Wait! I’m not finished!” he said, suddenly trying to avoid your hand. 

You drop your hand, raising your eyebrows. “You hit me lightly, and I get to do something in return.” “And that is?” you wonder. “You have to hit me first.” You raise your hand and lightly hit his shoulder. “Ow- That wasn't lightly!” he pouted, rubbing his shoulder. “I can go harder,” you said, slowly raising your hand back up. He grabs your wrist, bringing your hand back down, “Kinky, but I still have to do my thing.” he said. You look at him questioningly. “What are your plans, Lee Minho-” before you could finish, you felt something stopping you.

Minho attached his lips to yours and it felt electrifying. You paused for a second, tensing up. He pulled back. “Fuck. I fucked up, didn’t I? I-I thought- I’m sorry-” he said before you cut him off with your kiss. He reciprocated immediately, bringing you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers dancing in his purple locks. You pull away to breathe. “You didn’t fuck up. I was just caught off guard, Min,” you said, smiling. He smiles back, smashing his lips back into yours with more passion. You feel him lick your bottom lip, asking for permission. 

You back away. “Maybe we should catch up with the others, yeah? Show them what we’re capable of,” you say, patting his shoulder. He nods, “Y-Yeah. We should, then can I kiss you more afterward, yeah?” he said, trying to catch your lips again. You block him, “Slow down there, tiger. You haven’t even asked me out yet.” “Isn’t it obvious you’re already mine? You always have been since you joined the class,” he said, trying again. You look at him with a blank stare. He rolls his eyes. “Go out with me? Saturday? I'll take you to dinner, yeah?” he asked, faint pink on his cheeks. “I’d love to, Min,” you said, pulling him into another kiss.

[mo0nlyte]

(I'm sick so have another story bc I finally have motivation)

(bullshit this took way longer, and I got sick twice)

——————————————————————————

Your brothers when you're ✨sick✨

——————————————————————————

After one hot hell of a Texas day, you come inside.

Coughing.

Wheezing.

Extremely warm.

Dying inside.

You would normally hug Drayton as soon as you get inside.

Nah.

Straight to the bone couch, and slowly decide to accept the fate of death.

Meanwhile.

Drayton isn't happy.

But he can't take that out on you. Not your fault.

Still might yell

Of course now the twins aren't happy too.

"A-awe c-c-come on, why do w-w-we get more c-chores?!" Nubbins exclaimed, you can hear him from the bone couch.

You're confused. Why would he be getting chores?

Oh fuck, are you getting more chores?

Little do you know, your oldest bro already knows you're sick. Mostly because you've been coughing up a storm on the couch.

"Are ya sure? Lil shit can't be too bad right?" You hear Chop-Top. You kind guess they know you're sick now.

Chop-Top popped his head In, "Ya decent?"

Insert some pathetic cough wheeze

"Told ya." You hear Drayton.

After a moment, you hear Drayton telling them they'll have like a few extra chores.

Surprisingly enough, yes, he does care enough to let you guys off if you're sick. When one of the twins, heck, or both the twins got sick, You and Bubba would often take care of their chores.

When bubba got sick, it was a bit of a problem, but you tried to help when he did.

Now.

You're sick.

You've drifted off to being half asleep, the sounds of a chainsaw in the distance always did comfort you, knowing Bubba was protecting the farm.

You felt yourself being L i f t e d

Very confused you looked over at who was carrying you. Oh.

You smiled quite weakly at Nubbins. Who didn't look too happy.

Grumbling about how "you should be glad your my sister, or I wouldn't be touchin' ya, ya sickie"

Brotherly love amiright

Through a bunch of stutters.

He puts you in your room, on your bed.

Surprisingly he doesn't leave. He doesn't know now how to show he's worried. But he is. Less angry. More worried. You just get a head pat or two before he goes back downstairs.

You are dying laying in your bed, hoping this'll end.

How bad is it?

Coughing, sneezing, headache, dizziness, just the whole thing.

Y'know something victims should suffer through, not you. The sky gets darker, soon the sounds of a chainsaw stops.. you can hear your brothers downstairs.

You hear something close to a pig squeal, coming up the stairs. So Bubba probably.

He peeked in of course. Slowly coming in, making sure he didn't startle you. And set something down on the floor by you. You looked over and it was a small plate of food- Drayton probably made it.

-

I would imagine instead of a bed you just have a mattress or two on the floor by a window, your choice of course.

-

You smiled up at your older brother, and of course got a bear hug.

You don't come down to dinner like normal, which is when Chop-Top would probably check on you. Of course all worried, but barely making an effort to show he is. Making jokes n' poking you.

Of course, after dinner Drayton will come up and hand you a plate of food, or put it by your bed.. check your temperature, Get you water, you can tell he's worried. He's grumbling under his breath and not yelling at you. "Fuckin' worryin' the shit outta me kid.. better not be anythin' serious.." nicest thing he's probably said to his little sister

——————————————————————————

Depending on how long you're sick, a few things might happen.

If you're sick for over a week, Drayton will become increasingly worried. Bubba won't have anyone to talk to, or watch (again, he has a bad staring problem), and the twins will have to just torment Bubba or Drayton.

If you're only sick for a day or two, Drayton will be visibly relieved when you're back to the old spunky energetic psycho you normally are.

——————————————————————————

How would they specifically act towards you?

——————————————————————————

Drayton would take care of you of course, you are his responsibility. Can't have his little sister dying on his watch. He would be less loud, but just as snappy. Probably only the "sorry" he'll give you is food. Can't argue with that tho. He's secretly worried you'll not wake up one day. He's in constant stress, he always is when his siblings are sick.

Bubba will do his best to spend time with you. He used to get sick every once in a while, and he knows it gets lonely. He'll even make a victim probably chained or somewhat dead keep you company too. If you want a hug, and fall asleep there, he won't move unless Drayton makes him.

Nubbins won't come within 12 feet of you. He used to get sick every other day when he was young. Tho every once in a while, you'll hear something roll into your room.. a skull with a message written on it with a sharpie. Or something shiny he found in its mouth. He loves you, he won't show it, definitely not by a long shot, but he'll make sure it isn't as lonely.

Also he partly keeps his twin at bay

Chop-Top will not respect you wanna be laying in your bed. Outside is the best medicine. According to him. Oftentimes you'll be sleeping.. and then waking up to him plopping you outside on the grass/dirt. He'll sit right next to you, and tell you stories. He did that when his twin was sick, most of the time you give up and just lay there you don't wanna be dragged out again. And might as well enjoy the Texas heat.

——————————————————————————

End <3

[toxicanonymity]

Empire Builders. Ben's Hardware Ch. 3

5.4k / Ben Solo x Rey / ch 1, ch 2

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, gaslighting, another woman tries/fails to seduce him, angst, dubcon via uninformed force connection, ben jacks off, unsafe P in V (in force connection). Hardware Store AU explained. Strategic planning humor. Excessive plot. Beta/Star wars consultant: @dark-scape A/N: Written in February 2023. This chapter has far more world building & background than necessary. Like I set up way too much stuff for a miniseries, but I wanted to answer some reader questions. And at least the world is constructed in my head for future use.

Ben opens his eyes and looks around his office.  There's a leather couch, a chaise, an end table, a credenza stocked with high-end liquor.  It's certainly too high-end for the general manager of a local hardware store, but Ben likes things a certain way, and so do the clientele. He zips up his pants.  With Rey, he feels like he's doing nothing wrong.  He has his own rules for himself about the force connection, although they continue to evolve. 

The first time it happened, it took him by surprise. He felt a familiar tingle in his nose, the same faint tingle he gets when he uses the force.  And there she was in her bed.  He watched her for a few minutes, growing more and more aroused.  Then he gave it a shot - he invited her.  And there she was in his house.  After that, all she had to do was want him and he could tune in at will. 

He may tune into Rey's cute little thoughts about him sometimes, and especially her sexy little thoughts, but he only interacts when he's clearly invited.  When she desperately wants him.

In a way, Rey is in control – or, that's what Ben tells himself.  If Rey wants something from him sexually, he makes sure she either asks for it or takes it herself. He merely makes suggestions.  He opens her eyes to the possibilities. Rey may not understand it, but Ben barely understands it himself.  Certainly not well enough to explain it to her.  It would be like trying to explain to someone why water is wet or how to breathe.  It's not Ben's fault Rey doesn't know she's force sensitive. Most people don't know about the force at all, and they're better off that way.  

Ben never had a chance at a normal life.  His parents dedicated their lives and his to using their powers for good.  He didn't understand why teachers asked what kids wanted to be when they grew up.  Did anyone have a choice?  Ben even went to the FBI academy at Quantico and started in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.  It just . . . Didn't work out.  Or, it didn't work out *the way his parents wanted*, to say the least.  

His parents' names followed him everywhere.  Everyone had this very specific idea of who he was and what he was about before they even met him.  Everyone had expectations. His entire career was laid out for him. He'd probably be the director one day.  Without the freedom to be his own person, he grew bitter and angsty.  It was only once he interacted with the most dangerous criminals that Ben realized the choices he could make. 

Ben feels like he's protecting Rey by not cluing her in.  The only thing he feels a little guilty for is using a Jedi mind trick on her.  It's a little gross in principle, but he was  protecting her by making her forget what she saw between him and Hux.  Ben works for dangerous people, and Rey is far too curious for her own good. If Rey were to find out the store is funneling supplies to a dangerous criminal organization, it would not only ruin the whole set-up, but her life would be at risk.  

-----

Ben goes back downstairs to the store and passes Hux on the stairs, who's on his way up to the office.  Hux asks, "Want me to run those numbers for tomorrow?"

Ben has no idea what Hux is talking about.  He sighs, "What's tomorrow?"

Hux looks worried that Ben forgot.  "Uh, the retreat, right? Corporate?" He uses finger quotes when he says corporate. 

"Fuck me," Ben mutters under his breath.  "Yeah.  Thanks." 

How could he have forgotten? He knows how - Rey is a total distraction.  Empire Building's strategic planning retreat - what a joke, but Ben doesn't have a choice.  Who plans a retreat a week before Christmas? An organization that considers itself your only family.

Ben wants to get out of it.  "Hey, Hux - shouldn't one of us stay here to watch the store?" 

"Yup, that's why I'm attending remotely. I'll be here in the office and go down to the store during the breakout sessions." 

"Actually, I wouldn't mind staying. You deserve the break," Ben offers.

"Ben, no offense, but you know nothing about running a hardware store.  That's why I'm here in the first place."

"It's only two days," Ben says.  He's annoyed, but can't really dispute the assertion that he doesn't know what he's doing.  He's a hobby carpenter, which used to give him a false sense of handiness, but he's eaten his fair share of humble pie since opening the store.  If he had to run any other department besides Wood, he'd be in trouble.  

Hux sighs. "Alright, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but you're being honored.  You can't skip out." 

Honored? That intrigues Ben.  He tries not to seem too excited, though.  "Whatever," he says.  "Yeah, run the numbers, but run them by me before you share anything."

A buzz saw whirrs in the distance as Ben steps back onto the floor of the hardware store. He wants to learn to manage the store himself, he just doesn't want to learn from Hux. He walks by the key-making station and the staff member greets him.  He thinks about shadowing the keymaker to learn something new, but he goes to Lumber instead. They're filling an order of custom-length 2"x4"s.  

"Want a break? I've got it," Ben says.  The woman stops the saw and offers Ben her protective glasses.  He takes off his jacket, puts on his apron, and rolls up his sleeves.  He pulls on a pair of canvas gloves.  He can feel the woman checking out his ass as he bends over to get the first piece of lumbar lined up just right. "15 minute break," he tells her. "You don't have to clock out."  She walks off then Ben fires up the saw and cuts the wood.  

He's finishing up by the time she comes back.  He gives her the goggles back.  

Ben puts his jacket back on, collar popped, and goes out to the nursery and picks up the water dispenser.  He waters the tropical plant section and inhales the fresh smell of lush foliage mingling in the air with the sawdust from carpentry.  He thinks about how much he enjoys the hardware store.  He would love to just manage the hardware store one day and have that be his whole job.  If only things were that simple. 

----

The next morning, Ben drives his bulletproof Range Rover with dark tinted windows to the retreat, which is two hours away.  He dresses in all black and lays a charcoal blazer in the passenger seat.  He pulls up to the hotel at the last possible minute.  He opens the glove box and puts his old beat up Glock in the back of his pants.  He doesn't carry it all the time. It's truly gnarly, but it works, and it's a family heirloom.  It was returned to him from the District Attorney's office after his grandfather died.  He puts on his blazer and makes sure the notched Mandarin collar is standing -  he doesn’t like his neck exposed.  Then, he tosses his keys to the valet

There are two huge guards at the door dressed darkly in plain clothes.  Ben knows one of them and gives him knuckles. 

There are only a couple dozen people attending but they've branded it like it's some huge event.  Ben would prefer to sit with his back to the wall in any given room, but there's a seat reserved for him in the second row. The retreat kicks off with a speech from the Emperor, which is a big deal. No one knows his real name and Ben has never heard of him appearing in public before.  He hangs on every word at first, but it's a pretty general speech about the importance of loyalty and how prosperous they are together.  Yawn.  Then he talks about adversity.  

He continues, "As we all know, we had some challenges last year. Now, I don't have anything against journalists - heck, my granddaughter is one - but they tend to stick their noses in places they shouldn't." The crowd murmurs. Ben starts listening closer again   

"And it's not like the old days where we can take care of one problem and it just goes away.  They've gotten smart.  They've gotten digital.  Setting up dead man switches and whatnot.  Anyway, after the Post article last year, and the boycotts, each of our biggest suppliers suddenly grew a conscience at the same time. Construction came to a total standstill.  For two months we built nothing." He lets that linger in silence for a moment, then continues, "Until one of you had an idea." His eyes twinkle as he looks at Ben.  A few people quietly cheer.  Someone behind Ben pats him on the back and Ben turns his head a little and smiles on acknowledgement but keeps his focus straight ahead.  

In truth, Ben saw the Post article coming.  The way they were handling their business it felt inevitable.  But it would have been a big risk for Ben to try to change how they were doing things.  Instead, he started anticipating the fallout and plotting to save the day.  

"Ben's Hardware, ladies and gentlemen." He gestures to Ben.  "We're back in business."  He makes Ben come up to the front and presents him with a ruby signet pinky ring.  When he sits back down, Ben sees Hux sends an applause on the Zoom screen behind the speaker podium.  Ben's tries not to roll his eyes. 

"That was real strategic thinking, and it got us out of a real jam. I want all of you to start thinking strategically.  That's why I've brought in a consultant this weekend." He  gestures to his right and an attractive young woman stands up. "This is Paige.  She's going to get all of you thinking like Ben."  She smiles at Ben and he swallows.  

Ben wonders how much Paige knows and what's in store for her.  This is sloppy.  He manages a small smile.

----

The first session is a SWOT analysis of Empire Builders.  Paige talks through their Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats.  It turns into somewhat of a post mortem of what led to the Post article and boycotts. 

Strengths: Reputation, resources. 

Weaknesses: Disloyalty, competing priorities

Opportunities: Services. Diversify disposal. 

Threats: Attention. Regulation.

This is a load of crap, and Ben is 100% sure Hux is just eating it up, scribbling notes and making stupid plans.  He rolls his eyes at the thought.  This is worse than a load of crap, he realizes.  Nothing good could possibly come from openly strategizing about how to expand this criminal enterprise.  

Ben could have walked right into a different crime family and taken his grandfather's seat, but that would have been the easy road, and he wouldn't have been met with true respect.  He knew he was capable of sitting at any table he wanted, and chose a different family.  A rival family.  He's climbing from the ground up by merit.  He whacks off a bad egg here and there, but he builds his reputation with brains more than brawn.  He's bringing the family into the 21st century.  

As part of his plan to make himself indispensable, Ben shared one of his many good ideas - the hardware store.  He shared just enough to climb one more rung on the ladder, and now they want all these goons bumbling around trying to bring something fresh to the table? He would hate for this family to implode before he has a chance to destroy it himself and build his own dynasty. 

In the SWOT session, they discuss some of the points together, but it's awkward because no one knows how much Paige knows about the organization or when she's supposed to get whacked.  They keep trying to be vague, but they're really conspicuous about it.  Ben tries to peer into Paige's inner world to find out how much she knows, but he realizes he can't see anything at all, much less read her thoughts.  He wants to test a hypothesis that the sexual attraction and tension with Rey is what's creating their connection.  

-----

They take a break and Ben takes off his blazer.  He leaves it on his seat and goes to the bathroom.  He looks in the mirror as he washes his huge hands, then he unbuttons two buttons and rolls up his sleeves.  He feels kind of slutty doing this, but in a hot way, if he's honest.  He runs his long fingers through his dark hair and swallows. When he sees his Adam's apple in the reflection he remembers his most powerful weapon.  He should've made an acceptance speech.  

Before they get back from break, Ben approaches Paige with a twinkle in his eye.  He talks about nothing.  He uses the lingo.  He gesticulates with his massive hands and shifts his weight flirtatiously as they talk.  He flashes his charming smile and compliments her on the dumb SWOT analysis.  He tries to keep talking.  He crosses his arms and watches her eyes drift to his forearms.  When it's time to re-start the session, he heads back to his seat and glances back. She's definitely checking out his ass.

"What do we mean by 'diversify disposal'," someone asks, and  Paige doesn't know how to answer it. So she doesn't know everything after all. 

One of the big wigs chimes in.  "You'll recall the Post article was primarily the result of a specific disposal that was discovered at a construction site. Which led them to look at other construction sites, pulling permits, and employment records, and so on and so forth.  All that fuss started with one sloppy disposal."   

The man still looks confused. The big wig makes a subtle gun gesture out of view of Paige.

"OH, disposal," the audience member realizes.  "Okay and diversify that how?" 

"Well primarily by considering properties that don't trace directly back to Empire Builders. And techniques that lessen the residue over time." 

"Like lye?" The man asks.  Paige swallows and doesn't know what to say.

Ben interrupts and saves her. "Have we thought about *reducing* disposal?" He asks the big wig.

The big wig laughs. "It's a core part of our business model." 

"Reducing unnecessary disposal? That's when things get sloppy, right?"

"Go on."

"Like say you hire a person for one job, like a conference, but they have a diverse business skill set.  That person could potentially be reassigned to, say, logistics and supply chain management?"

"Instead of. . ." The big wig is thinking.  "Right.  Good question Ben. Let's take that offline." 

-----

After the session ends for the day, Ben goes to the hotel bar.  He wants to check in on the store but needs a drink before he can even think about talking to Hux. Mainly he's curious if Rey came by.  He knows she wants to. Ben orders a whiskey on the rocks and thinks about Rey.  He feels like she has all the control.  He only gets to see her when she shows up to the store.  He thinks about the way she blushes under her freckles and her dimples and her perky tits and how bad she wants him.  He's horny. 

As Ben examines his drink in his large hand, a sultry voice startles him.  

"Ben's hardware, huh?" It's Paige.  She slides her small hand onto his shoulder and puts her other hand on the back of the stool next to him.  "Anyone sitting here?" He must have really worked his magic earlier.  

"No, please." He welcomes her to sit. His sleeves are still rolled up.  

She orders him another drink. "Another one for him. And one for me." 

Paige reaches for Ben's large hand and inspects the ruby signet ring on his pinky. She wants to try it on.  It's too big for even her thumb. One of the big wigs watches casually from the end of the bar. 

Paige asks too many questions, and Ben doesn't give her any answers.  He doesn't want to put her in more danger than she's already in. Also, part of him wonders if she's a trap. Maybe they've realized what he's known all along - that he's the future of this empire - they need to know he can be trusted and won't get distracted by competing loyalties.  Even if it's not a trap, Paige isn't Rey, so that works against her.  

At the bar, Paige is all over him. It turns him on.  He's not that interested in her, but he's only human.  She finishes her drink and slips Ben a key to her room.  She scribbles her room number on a napkin with lipstick.  He wants to leave the key and the napkin on the bar, but he wouldn't want a worse guy to bust into her room in the middle of the night, so he takes them with him.  

Ben looks at his phone and has a missed call from Hux. He decides not to call him back, lest Hux think Ben answers to him.  Plus, Ben is exhausted from being "on" all day.  He's a solo creature and having to pretend to enjoy "the family" really takes it out of him.  Especially with all eyes on him as an honoree. He felt like he couldn't let his guard down for even a moment.  

-----

Ben retires to his hotel room alone he washes his face and hands and grabs the hotel lotion.  He props up two pillows and lies down on top of the bed without unmaking it.  He crosses his large feet and studies the pattern of his argyle socks.  He really prefers stripes these days.  He should overhaul his sock drawer.  He reads the label on the lotion, then moisturizes his enormous hands. He holds the napkin in his hand and runs his thumb over the room number, which is just a few rooms away.  

He recalls the way Paige looked at him and gets hard. He starts to think about whether he should just do it.  It's not like he and Rey are dating - they haven't even gone out once.  On the other hand, hooking up with Paige wouldn't do anything but physically get him off, and he still wouldn't be satisfied.  He runs his long fingers over the mark on his neck.  There is only one person who can satisfy him now.  His eyelids are heavy.  

Ben palms himself through his pants and  debates whether he should try to force connect with Rey.  If he does try to connect with her and she isn't already thinking about him, it could startle her or make her question everything.  He decides to take care of himself  instead.  

-----***------

Ben takes takes off his slacks and hangs them on the back of a chair and lies back down.  He leaves his shirt on and pulls his boxer briefs down. He closes his eyes.  He wraps his hand around his hard shaft and despite how big his cock is, it almost looks normal sized in his massive hand.  He's proportional.

He's almost too tired to do it, but his arousal wins over.  He spits in his hand. He thinks about Rey sitting in his lap and begins to slowly move the skin on his shaft, lazily and in short, firm strokes, just getting warmed up. He thinks about her furrowed brow and her soft little sighs and how her warmth felt against his cock.  

Before he can get far, his nose begins to tingle. Ben yanks up his boxer briefs and palms himself through them as he closes his eyes to let it happen.  

But before he can see anything, Ben hears a moan echo from the bathroom of his hotel room.  He lies there frozen, wondering if his ears deceive him.  Then, he hears splashing and squeaking from the bathtub.  He jolts up and grabs his Glock from the nightstand. He holds it in both hands, his arms straight, and slowly approaches the bathroom.  He turns the door knob with one hand  and pushes it open before resuming his stance. Steam billows out of the door and the mirror is fogged up.  

The door creeps open the rest of the way on its own, and Rey is in a robe.  Thank God she's facing away from him.  He lowers his gun and quietly rushes back to the bed, taking huge strides. He puts the Glock in the nightstand but doesn't close it all the way.

The sink faucet turns on, then off.  Rey emerges from the bathroom and looks around curiously.  She doesn't  look surprised to see him. He hasn't done it on purpose, but the collateral gaslighting might be driving her mad. Surely she hasn't figured out how this works.  

Ben is lying on the bed in his boxer briefs and button up shirt.  He's still hard.  Her eyes meet his. "Ben," she says.  It's the first time she's said his name to him and it's the sweetest sound.  Her eyes scan his body, resting on his underwear longer than anywhere else.  She looks away shyly then he sees her remind herself it's not real. She gains confidence and smiles demurely at him.  "Where have you been?" she asks. "Where are we now?" She crosses the room slowly.  

Ben ignores the questions.  "Well, you found me,"  he says. Her eyes rest between his legs again.  He's emboldened by her continued belief that this isn't real.  He adds, "And you found me in quite a state." He strokes his hard length from outside his boxer briefs.  "Is this what you were looking for?" He looks down to his lap then meets her eyes again as he strokes himself slowly.  He knows it's what she wants. He still wants her to say it. 

Her hair is damp.  Her skin is rosy.  He's disappointed to have missed her bath, but glad she's here now.  Rey approaches the nightstand, then stands facing the bed, not far from him.  Ben wonders how much she can see in this room.  Can she see the napkin? The Glock in the nightstand? If she can, she ignores them.  She lets her robe fall open "Maybe so," she says.  That's close enough to a yes for him. 

Ben sits up in the bed and pivots to face her. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes both her hands in his.  He spreads his knees.  She stands in between his legs, close to the bed.  They search each other's eyes. He can feel all her thoughts even stronger now.  She wants him bad.  He scoots closer to the edge of the bed, barely on it.  His large feet are firmly planted on the floor. 

She wants his body against hers.  He brings his hands around her waist to the small of her back.  Her figure is striking and her skin is so soft and smooth.  He gently nudges her closer. His knees are spread wide with plenty of room in between.  She comes as close as she can and his clothed hardness meets her bare skin. 

She starts unbuttoning his shirt.  She looks even prettier with no makeup.   He strokes her damp hair, then cradles her pretty little head in both of his massive hands and brings her face to his. Their eyes close.  Her lips part.  Their mouths meet softly, then the kiss grows hungrier.  She wants Ben inside her.  He slips his tongue into her mouth and she meets it eagerly.  She finishes unbuttoning him as they make out.  

Ben moves his hands down each side of her neck, then to her collar bone.  He slips the tips of his fingers under each side of the robe and slides his hands gently to her shoulders.  She shrugs off the robe. His hands slide from her shoulders down to her breasts and cup them gently.  He takes one nipple into his mouth and moves his other hand around her back, down her spine as he tongues then sucks her breast. 

Her skin is supple and her ass is round.  He grabs a cheek in his large hand and pulls her into him, then his hand slides down her ass crack between her legs.  His middle finger reaches her pussy and she’s so fucking wet.  He releases her breast from his mouth and grabs her ass with both hands.  He stands up and lifts her off the ground in one swift motion.  Her legs wrap around him.  He turns around and lays her down on the bed and their faces meet again. His nose brushes hers as their lips come together.  As he reads her mind, he’s struck by the intensity of her passion for his nose.  He’s so fucking hard.

Her fingers curl under his undershirt.  He takes it off and she marvels at his physique - his sharp shoulders, his broad chest.  Her hands trace his hard pecs,   then his abs, and his happy trail.  Then she slides her hand inside his boxer briefs and seizes his huge, swollen cock.  Her hand feels so good.  He thrusts into her and her other hand grabs at the hem of his briefs.  He takes them off.  She wants him inside her so bad, but he wants her to say it.

He reaches a large hand between them to finger her while she strokes him.  As his long digits slide against her slick folds, he says, “You can have whatever you want.”  He knows there’s only one thing on her mind and it’s his cock.

“I want all of you,” she says.  She releases his cock and it smacks against her hip bone, then he removes his hand from between them and grinds his hips into her.  His hard cock slides along her folds and her head falls back.  Her neck is so delicate.  It’s hard to resist putting his hands around it but he doesn’t want to scare her.  

“Take it,” Ben snaps hastily.  “Take what you want.”  She opens her eyes wide and grabs his cock again.  She swipes a bead of pre-cum around the head, strokes him for a second,  then rubs his cock against her folds again.  She wraps her legs loosely around his back.  

Ben kisses her deeply on the lips and grinds into her hard.  He can feel her wanting something beyond his body, beyond this room.  “I want it to be real,” Rey says.  

“This isn’t real?” He asks with a twinge of guilt. It’s an inopportune moment for this conversation, in his opinion. He just wants to be inside her.  

“I want you in real life,” Rey says.  

He slides off her and rolls onto his back, breathing heavily.  He cradles his massive, aching erection in one hand, loosely stroking it.  “I do too,” he says.  

“How do I know?” she asks.  She rolls over on her side to face him and hooks a leg over his closest leg.  Her face is quizzical, but he can still see the want in her eyes. She traces his pecs and her nipple grazes his bicep. 

“You just know.” He laughs. “I know you know.” Rey climbs up and straddles his big thighs, hovering her lower abdomen near his cock as she searches his face. He'd say almost anything to fuck her right now, but he settles on something reasonable.  “Give me your number or something,” he says. "then I'll make sure you know it. I promise."  

She relaxes.  "Okay."  She seems to view this experience as some way of accessing her intuition or some kind of mystical guidance on how to get with him in real life. She feels like she has her next step now.  She'll give him her number.  

“Can we still have fun meanwhile?” He asks and his hips lift up under her. 

She smiles.  The only thing on her mind is his cock now.  She grabs it again and scoots forward more, her warmth hovering over his aching balls.  He sits up and kisses her passionately as she grinds into him.  

He nuzzles his nose against hers.  “Whatever you want,” he says.  Her hips roll into him more intensely until she rolls off of him and back onto the bed, lying face up, pulling him onto her.  He brings his whole body down into hers and she grabs his cock and nestles the tip at her entrance.  Ben kisses her deeply as he plunges into her.  She moans as the thick head parts her seam.  

He gives her a few seconds, then thrusts again, further into her.  She digs her fingers into his back.  Her cunt is so hot and tight.  He feels like he could come at any second already.  “More,” she says. 

He pulls out an inch or two then plunges all the way in and she moans.  They sloppily kiss as he thrusts into her again and again.  They sweat and their hot bodies slide against each other.  He knows he’s hitting that special spot deep inside her.  He knows she’s close. And so is he, his pleasure is building rapidly.  

As Ben pounds into her, Rey begins to whine and her face contorts.  “Yes, yes, Ben."  He feels a pang of pleasure in his balls at the sound of his name in her mouth. She says it again and he kisses her desperately before his name is gone from her lips, like he's catching it in his own mouth.  She comes and her walls clench around him, and he starts to come, too.  He slowly thrusts into her as his cock erupts.  When his balls are empty, he pries his lips away from hers to look at her.  His hair falls into her face and she tucks it behind his ear.  

There’s a knock at the door. For a moment Ben hopes Rey can't hear it, but her face screws up.  Ben ignores it and kisses Rey's neck sweetly, trying to make her forget about it.

Another knock.  "Ben, I know you're in there," Paige says from the door.  Rey's eyes water.

Ben wants to explain.  ,"No, it's not - hold on.  One second," Ben whispers to Rey. He gets up and starts toward the door.  When he glances back, Rey is looking at the napkin and key on the nightstand.  Before Ben can answer the door, Paige says "Whatever, you've got my key."

Ben turns around to come back to bed, but Rey is gone.  He stews over it for a while, but there's nothing he can do.

-

The second day of the conference, Paige starts off cold toward Ben, but she tries to cozy up to him more during the breaks.  He tries to play nice but he's upset about the night before.  There's no way she could have known, but it still bothers him. He replays Rey's thoughts in his head and he's fairly sure her infatuation and attachment will win out over apprehension.

Paige's presentation talks about waste and efficiency.  One of the types of waste is underutilized resources.  Ben doesn't want to say it in front of Paige, but he feels like his capabilities are underutilized.  There are so many times they forgo mind tricks in favor of straight-up offing someone.  It would be cleaner to just to make them forget.  

Of course, a mind trick doesn't always work.  He can't imagine it would work for someone like Mitaka who worked full time for them.  What memories would the person be left with?  Plus, there are different rules for snitches. But as far as Ben knows, a mind trick would've worked for the disposal that ultimately led to the Post article. Ben keeps his mouth shut, though. He doesn't want to draw more attention to himself by bringing up his capabilities.  Plus, he knows better than anyone that sometimes your temper just gets the best of you.

After the session, during the social hour, Ben gets invited on a hunting trip.  He says he should really get back to the store.  A big wig slaps him on the back and asks if he can tour the store the day after tomorrow.  Ben agrees. 

Ben really can't wait to get back to the store.  

-

Thank you for reading!

[maddascanbe-blog]

MLB Rewrite: Origins prt. 1 &2

Note- I'm using (POV) to mention who the 'camera' is following for the most part. Also I skim over things that happen nearly the same as in cannon.

Hawkmoth Re-design

Origins Part 1

(Hawkmoths POV)

 Starts the same with Nooroo explaining the miraculous and Hawkmoth’s first transformation, though we wouldn’t see him outside of his hands.  As the butterflies crowd him to transform a scream of pain rings from his throat.

(Fu’s POV)

Like before, Wayzz fills Master Fu in on the butterfly being active.  But I’m gonna pull from the movie's idea of letting Tikki and Plagg choose their own wielders.  Fu does bring them to the school though with the intent of choosing a young initiate.   

(Marinette’s POV)

Marinette is 16 years old, this is her Junior year.

Marinette meanwhile has had a day of it.  Working herself up over everything she might need for her first day and nearly being late after reorganizing her bag for the 4th time that morning.  Finally, Sabine dragged her downstairs and Tom gave her the macarons.

(Adrien’s POV)

Adrien is also 16 at the moment.

Boy is forever trying to get educated but gets caught by Nathalie.

(Fu’s POV)

Master Fu briefly loses Plagg before seeing a black cat sitting on the back of Adrien’s car as it drives away.  Since he saw Adiren get in, and the boy’s face is all over Paris, he knows who his Cat is.

Marinette still saves Fu’s life as he had run into traffic looking for Plagg and paused in the middle of the road after seeing him.  Tikki jumps into Marinette’s bag while she’s picking up the macarons.

Content Fu heads home.

(Marinette's POV)

Chloe basically just says “Switch.”  And Marinette decides it honestly is not worth the hustle and does.  Alya introduces herself and berates Chloe’s actions to which Marinette shrugs and says, “I don’t really care, she probably has a reason.”

“All that is necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good people to do nothing.”

“A nice rule, but remember you can’t judge someone evil based on their first impression.  You never know what they could be going through.”

(Adrein’s POV)

It fades to Adrien being told his father is busy and can’t scold him right now.  Once Adrien goes back to his room he finds a cat sitting on his table, confused he tries to approach it but the animal just bounds away.  But on the table still, is a ring box.

(Ivan’s POV)

Que Kim and Ivan’s argument.  A black butterfly lands on the crumpled up paper.  All that we see or hear is the mask appearing on Ivan’s face and Hawkmoth's voice.  “Stoneheart, I am Hawkmoth.  You feel unsupported, and unseen.  Allow me to harden your heart and take that pain away.”

(Adrein’s POV)

Adrien is observing the ring when a quiet meow is heard behind him.  The cat is balanced in the back of his couch and looks between the ring and Adrien.

“You want me to put it on?”  He asks and gets a purr in return.   He does and there is a flash of light.

(Marinette’s POV)

Worrying herself to death over Alya chasing the monster, but too scared to follow her.  Marinette finds a box that had fallen out of her bag.  A ladybug lands on the box.

“Bug Mouse!”  And the cup things.

As Tikki explains, Marinette is working herself into a fit.  She’s terrified, but Tikki assures her that very little harm can come to her in the suit.  That she’ll have a partner to help her, and that it will give her a chance to protect Alya.  Unwilling to not even try when an innocent person is being puppeteered by an evil asshole she agrees.

Ladybug Re-design

Chat Noir Re-design

Key Power differences:

Ladybug:

Lucky Charm is specifically stated to give you a solution, not just an object.  The object is only to point you in the right direction.

Purification allows her to cleanse the akuma.

Miracle Cure allows the world to heal from and injuries caused by a miraculous  (Only Physical Damage) "Miraculous *Insert Name*"

Cat:

Cataclysm can either turn an object to dust or cause it to stop functioning.

Purgation destroys the dark energy in an akuma

Miracle Purge allows the world to burn out any effects a miraculous had on a person (Only works on Non Physical Effects) "Miraculous *insert Name*"

(Marientte’s POV)

They meet about the same way as cannon.  The fight up to a point is pretty similar, except Marinette is very thinly veiling her utter panic with humor.  Chat picks up on this and starts cracking jokes to help put her at ease.

After breaking the akumatized object they part ways, but the butterfly goes “Oops, bye bitch.”

Tikki’s like- “So you got the akuma right?  Right?”

“I can’t do this Tikki, I couldn’t even listen long enough to know what my one job was.  There are two many bad things that could happen, and all I can think about is how I can continue to mess things up in the future.  Paris doesn't need a Ladybug who can’t trust herself.  You deserve better.”

She removes the earrings and puts them back in the box.

Marinette goes to sleep with plans to give up the miraculous to Alya in the morning.

 The akuma is targeting people who had been rejected or feel unseen, turning them to stone more medusa style statues than Stoneheart’s golem influences.

Marinette wakes up late that night to the miraculous in its box buzzing, asking to be let out.

She goes to beg Tikki to please choose someone else.  Except when she picks up the box the earrings shoot from the box.  It leads her down and out of the house.  To a stone woman frozen in misery.

Marinette can’t stand to see someone suffering like this and tells herself she’ll do what she can to help until either Stoneheart is defeated or she can hand the miraculous off to Alya.

Origins Part 2.

In the morning, Marinette finally returns home to get ready for school.  She was up all night finding every akuma still loose and catching it.  She tells her parents she just went for an early morning run (technically true) and is okay, she is late for school though.

On TV she see’s Ivan has once again been re-akumatized, after trying to read Mylene his poem when they both got to school.  Knowing Alya will be chasing the akuma Marinette chugs some coffee and chases him too.

When Alya gets trapped Chat Noir is captured, same as cannon, she decides to be Ladybug just a little longer.

(Though she finds a hiding place first, gosh cannon Alya was like 20 feet away)

As Ladybug chases down Stoneheart she catches Chloe after she is thrown from the Eiffel tower.

Hawkmoth does not do the floating head thing.  Instead Stoneheart mentions that the butterfly that made him strong wants the miraculous.

Officer Raimcomprix tells Chat Noir that they’ve already failed one.

Chat Noir scoffs.  “No shit.  We’re two teenagers in spandex.  Of course we're gonna make mistakes.  But you don’t really have a choice but to trust us.  Because you can’t beat this thing, and we can.”

He turns to face Stoneheart.

“I know you can hear me, you’ll be looking through his eyes right?  Well listen up little Papillion.  I don’t know what you want, what drove you to this.  But I'll give you a bit of a friendly tip, you messed up.  Because you chose to prey on an innocent teenager, tried to force him to nearly kill Chloe Bourgeois, and attacked the girl he loves.  You’ve definitely made a mistake, bigger than either of ours.  Because you honestly thought that we would roll over and let you get away with it.”

Ladybug, in awe of her partner's confidence even in the face of failure, starts planning how to take out Stoneheart.

They do the kiss thing and both teens are rescued safely.  Ladybug catches the akuma and uses the Miracle Cure to fix the damage and bring the stone people back to themselves.

Chat asks to meet with Ladybug to talk about their new jobs later that night.

When Marinette arrives back at school she meets Adrien.  Because Nathalie is awesome.

+x+

“So you’re the rival Chloe’s told me so much about?”

Marinette floundered a little at the son of her favorite fashion designer, and a supermodel in his own right, stuck his hand out.  “A- Adrien.  You’re Adrien Agreste.”

He winced a little.  “Yeah that’s me.”

Somehow the girl managed to snap herself out of the stupor enough to shake the boy's hand.

“Adrikins,”  Chloe called.  “Come on, I need to show you around before class starts.”

Marinette was in a daze all the way back to Mme. Bustiers class.  She just met Adrien Agreste, the Adrien Agreste.  And she was a total spaz about it.

She sat down in her seat and placed her head on the desk.

She didn’t remember the seat change until Chloe reemerged with her friends in tow.

“Move.”  She told Marinette.

Marinette really didn’t want to do that.  She didn’t want to be next to Adrien where she could potentially embarrass herself more.  If he told his father about the mess of a girl in his class her dreams would be crushed before they even got off the ground.

(It is of course bold of Mari to assume Adrien’s father speaks to his son.)

Maybe- maybe if she was going to stand up for herself as Ladybug, at least until she found a better candidate, then starting as Marinette would help.

“No.”  She said plainly.  “It’s my seat, and I don’t really want to.”

She clenched her hands into her jeans as Chloe raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever.  This isn’t worth my time.”  Chloe sighed like she had just wasted precious hours on that interaction.

Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

Alya slid into the seat next to her and grinned triumphantly.  “Nice job girl.”

Marinette smiled back, but it was shaky.  She hadn’t slept last night and was really starting to feel it.

“So girl, check this out.”  Alya held up her phone.

On it was a blog template with red and black spots covering it.

“The Ladyblog?”  Marinette read the title at the top.

Alya practically squealed in excitement.  “Isn’t it cool?  Since your’s truly got the best footage on the attack I thought I’d start my own blog.  The one stop spot for everything Ladybug.”

“What about Chat Noir?”  Marinette mused.  “He’s super cool, Ladybug just kinda fumbles around after him.”

“Don’t be like that.”  Alya pushed the girl’s shoulder.  “Ladybug was the one to come up with the plan to save the day both times.  And she saved me today.”

Marinette wished she could point out that Chat Noir had saved Alya twice, but that would reveal that she was there.

“But you are right, I need to think up something good for Chat Noir.”  Alya leaned back.

+x+

(Adrien POV)

Vibing, waiting for the car.  Marinette comes outside and waits too.

Adrien’s like, “Hey.”

And Marinette apologizes for being a spaz.  Explaining that she was just caught off guard and that she didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable.

Adrien explains that he’s pretty used to it, and laments that no matter where he goes people will always know him before ever speaking to him.

“I almost don’t even know how to act in public.  I wanna make friends but- I feel like people will only ever see the boy on the posters.  …  Sorry, that’s kind of a lot to dump on a stranger.”

Marinette paused.  “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.  I can’t change the fact that people know who you are.  But we are still kind strangers.  So- Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

He chuckles at her outstretched hand.  “Hello, I’m Adrien Agreste.”  He shakes her hand and smiles.

“So, you’re new to the school?  What do you think of Mme. Bustier?”

(Fu’s POV)

He watches on as Ladybug and Chat Noir meet each other for the first time, again.  Making idle small talk until the same car from before arrives to take Adrien home.

Before getting in the teen hands Marinette his umbrella with a parting goodbye.

Wayzz asks if he came to check in because he questioned Tikki and Plagg’s choice.

Fu admits that he was worried, but he needn’t be.  Those two will help each other, in and out of the mask.  They’ll be okay.

(Ladybug’s POV)

Ladybug meets Chat at the Eiffel tower.

She tells him how much his words of confidence helped her, since she had been so upset about her failure she forgot that mistakes are not the end of everything.  So long as you try and fix them.

She confides that she’s still considering giving up the Ladybug miraculous, since she’s worried her catastrophizing will cause her to be overwhelmed and fail.

“Well m’ lady.  I know a thing or two about Cat-astrophizing.  And if you promise not to give up just yet, then I promise to help keep you from spiraling.  Deal?”

She agrees to keep trying.

END

Okay let's get into the details.

1. Hawkmoth's transformation hurts like a bitch. His head is full on splitting open to make way for the butterfly wings, that's part of his face. He's spending most of his time lying on the floor in too much pain to move until Ivan get's akumatized.

2. Marinette will have the first suit design, with the plain suit and boots. Chat Noir will also have his first design, but his is a bit more interesting than LB's since Adrien has a little more faith in himself.

3. Since I'm overhauling Chloe's personality there was no reason for the gum incident, so I just dropped it all together. There would have been 0 purpose. Instead their rough start is caused by Marinette having a fairly normal reaction to meeting a super model who is also your idol's son. She does feel bad about it later, but Adrien harbored no ill will.

4. Around here is when the crush starts developing, but it's just that. A crush, she has the vague idea that she might like Adrien, but she doesn't know him super well yet.

5. Fu, you bastard. He really does think choosing two legal children is a good idea. I'll partially blame the Order of Guardians, but he knew what he was doing. Children are more likely to believe that they are just "The Chosen Ones" and not question anything, or wonder gave them the miraculous. Tikki and Plagg actually don't like that they had to choose two teenagers, but they aren't going to take that out on the kids. Fu's probably gonna get hot sauce in his tea curtesy of Wayzz for pulling that though.

[shzmluvrs]

this is so random but i feel like i need to share the mental image of 2019 freddy eating cornflakes

~ Star✨️

Freddy's Frosted Flakes

Prompt: Just your average teenage boy eating cereal. Nothing crazy going on here🥱. Well, besides saving the world. At the butt-crack of dawn. Again. Why can't the poor boy just be left to eat his cereal in peace🥲?

Timeline: Post Shazam! Pre S!:FOTG

TW/Content: None⚡️Well, probably some cursing⚡️Frosted Flakes (if you don't like Tony the Tiger, should you really even be here🤨?)⚡️Freddy being silly lol⚡️Reader is mentioned like, once, maybe twice

Reader: Non-Specified! Any Pronouns! Knows the secret!

Requested By: @anon-2019

Back to Master List

I wanna say this first real quick, if you don't know what Frosted Flakes even, are, here...

Corny, yes, but at least now you know🤷����‍♀️.

Anyways...

I'm not saying Frosted Flakes are his fave (yesIam), but when he requests for them every time Victor goes to the store and is one of the first to be searching through the bags the second he gets home specifically for them, it's hard to believe otherwise.

Personally, I don't think Freddy is the biggest morning person. Will he wake up? Sure. But don't expect him to be his "normal" self, all talkative and head running a mile per minute. He's probably the opposite.

Head empty, no thoughts, quiet mouth. Very much ghost activity, just wandering around his room in a daze looking for clothes that aren't just his boxers, and then downstairs with only the click of his crutch hitting the floor to be heard.

He rubs his eyes, and he finds the house empty, Rosa out shopping, Victor at work, his siblings? Who knows. Who cares. He's hungry.

He's stumbling into the kitchen, murmuring to himself about early-monring nonsense while opening the fridge door and scanning its contents.

Oh, sweet. Juice.

Knowing he shouldn't, having been told many times before, he drinks straight from the carton. He waterfalls it, at the very least, and then he spots the milk. Milk goes in a bowl along with a spoon and-

"Cereal." He mumbles again because he's still hungry💀.

I imagine he's the type to be very unconventional with his eating utensils if he has to be. If there are no clean spoons, he's eating that shit with a fork. Better yet, a small ladel because A) he'll be damned if he's gonna be washing any dishes this early in the day. And B) better for scooping anyway. If there's no clean bowls? He'll eat his cereal out of some tupperware🤷🏽‍♀️.

Also, sorry to disappoint, but he's a "milk first, then cereal" kinda guy. It severely threw you and Billy off when you first watched him do this, Mary said it was "illogical" and Pedro and Eugene make fun of him every time he does it.

You know what? On second thought, he's kind of glad no one's home to see him eat his cereal💀✋🏽.

Speaking of you...

"Mor-nin-g ... an-gel-....cake ... kissy sign..." He spells out under his breath, sending off the message with a smug feeling about him before placing his phone back down and scarfing down more of his cereal.

He's definitely a messy eater, milk all down his chin, food barely in his mouth because he's shoved in so much. At least he has the decency not to smack (because that drives even him, one of the messiest of eaters, nuts).

I also think he's definitely the type to have more than one bowl. Especially if there's milk left behind from the first one? He's not drinking that, he's using it for another helping💀. And he'll repeat the process until it's all gone.

But, if you didn't stop him, and you let him re-pour as much as he wanted, he'd eat (I'd say) 4-6 bowls max, depending on how hungry he is that day.

He's also the type to, when he's hungry but doesn't feel like fully cooking something for himself, or just try too hard in the kitchen in general (lazy ass😒), there he goes for those Frosted Flakes. He's convinced it's versatile, a breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, and/or dessert food. Rosa has had to stop him from proving this point on several occasions; she will not let any son of hers live off of and eat up an entire box of cereal🥴💀.

ESPECIALLY IF ITS JUST BEEN OPENED OMG!! She gets salty if a box of cereal has just been opened and it's already half gone within a day. Like, she understands she lives with seven other people, but goddamn, there's no excuse for that😭.

'Vzz-Vzz!'

Freddy smiles to himself, mouth still full, but he can't help it because he's excited to see what flirty little morning response you had come up w-

'Hey dude idk if u kno this but the world needs saving so get ur captain i-have-all-powers ass up and come help'

"Mncht..." He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Leave it to Billy to kill his early morning groove...

He set his spoon down in order to use both hands/thumbs, fully indulging himself in having attitude with his mocking tone while he typed.

"I'm actually referred to as Captain Everypower, so get it right and maybe I'll come help."

Billy's response?

'🤓☝🏻'

Freddy groaned to himself, wanting- No, wishing nothing more than to just be able to finish his bowl of cereal. Normally, he'd be at least on his second bowl by now, but nope. Now he's gotta deal with some catastrophe on a half-empty stomach.

'Vzz-Vzz!'

"What now...?!"

'Morning Freds♡'

'Saw the news...'

Oh. It was you again. His frustration subsided for a moment, shoveling as much as he could into his mouth as he quickly sent, '🙄 so did I. Do I have to??'.

Not that he knew, but you had giggled on the other end.

Not that you knew, but upon seeing your response, he giggled, too, and the butterflies in his chest made this whole ordeal a little less miserable...

'Go save the world, Superman😘.'

This was silly, thank you sm for this lmao😭😻.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

Taglist:

@anon-2019

[xerith-42]

YOU! you get it. vincent would be the swaggiest pirate around. he’d sail everywhere and get a little trinket from each place he’s visited.

i also fight the urge to make zack and cloud apart of his crew for a bit before they leave and become guards aswell

~pirate vincent anon

WAIT WAIT WAIT I GOT SOMETHIN COOKING UP HERE HOLD ON

I previously said Cadenza and Vincent met at a bar in O'Khasis, but let's build on this just a little bit--

Vincent may not have had his own crew for most of his time as a pirate, but he did eventually befriend and semi-recruit Cloud and Zack, two baby pirates with no clue as to what they're doing. Eventually after a few adventures the three of them stop in Ru'aun, specifically O'Khasis, to get some drinks and see if they can't find more work, and it's while they're all drinking that Cadenza comes waltzing into the bar, and orders "Whatever's the strongest thing on the menu."

Zack throws some remark at her that instantly lights the competitive spirit in Cadenza so she challenges all three of them to a drinking contest, and they're impulsive pirates they can't say no to it. Zack and Cloud both go down like chumps after only a few drinks, and it's Vincent who can actually keep up with her. Vincent, being a cocky and very confident pirate, puts a bet on who will black out first. If Cadenza loses, she joins their crew, if he loses, they become her guards. Even though Cadenza is a lord. He can't really help his competitive nature when around Cadenza, they feed off of each other so well and he has so much fun around her that he honestly couldn't care less who wins.

Vincent wakes up the next morning in the upstairs inn with little to no recollection of the night before until he goes downstairs and sees Cadenza's smug expression. Now that they're both sober he can actually tell her a little more about him and his crew, including the fact that he's a shadow knight, hoping that he can back out of this deal. But Cadenza had a shadow knight for a brother, so this doesn't deter her at all. In fact, once she gets a look at Vincent in better lighting in the full get up, she appoints him as her head guard then and there. He's got a sense of style and clearly has experience with fighting, and he's immortal on top of all of that.

Once they become guards the three of them agree to leave their scoundrel days behind them, but every now and then they still wear their swag ass pirate outfits. Especially if they ever have to do any kind of seafaring mission, even if it's just as simple as accompanying Cadenza on a boat to another village they still go all in because it's just fun to be a pirate. Inspired by this Cadenza makes herself a pirate outfit as well that she happily wears any time she has to be on a boat, even if she's on her way to a serious conference as a lord. If anyone gives her a weird look, she'll just brag that her head guard is "The Blind Seafarer" and say that whoever gave her shit about it is just jealous their head guard isn't half as cool as hers.

Oh my Irene I just imagined Cadenza and her guards singing sea shanties together what if I exploded and died right now. Specifically the song Loreley by Blackmore's Night I could totally see being sung about/by Cadenza as she dances around with her guards on the deck of a ship while they're traveling.

Vincent teaching musicians of the Phoenix Alliance how to play sea shanties will now be living in my head rent free.

[innytoes]

Ooh how about a wrong number au for Reggie ship of your choice?

- @anotherfantom

-When Ray's phone goes in the middle of the night and hears someone sniffle and ask 'can you come pick me up' he is suddenly wide awake and out of bed in an instant.

-Except Carlos is in his bed, and well, Julie is across the country at university. He is one hundred percent ready to call Victoria and get in his car and drive to the airport to catch the first flight to New York...

-But when the static of adrenaline in his ears wears off, the voice is still talking, rambling: "I know you said it was a bad idea but he was so hot, Alex, he was so hot and charming and I met him somewhere public and I was safe and come on, you know I can't say no to a hot silver fox like that except he wanted to go to this other place away from down town and it was fun but then when I wouldn't put out he left me with the tab and I'm somewhere on the edge of the burbs and there's no busses here and I'm lost and there's no wifi and I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Lex..."

-And Ray really feels for this guy, but he's not Alex. He gently lets the poor guy know, telling him he's sorry his date went badly, and wishing him good luck.

-The guy, Reggie, is very apologetic for waking him up and ranting at him. He even asks his name so he can apologise properly. He is maybe a little drunk, so Ray humours him.

-He's just cozied back up in bed and dozing off when his phone rings again.

-"You dialed the wrong number again, Reggie."

-"Ray?" Reggie sounds a lot more upset than last time. "Alex isn't picking up and I think I took a wrong turn and now I'm really lost and I still don't have wifi. Or money to call a taxi. Can you please... just... check a map for me or something? Please? I'm sorry."

-And Ray feels so bad for this guy that he actually wanders downstairs and boots up his laptop to do so. Only for Reggie to read the street signs and him to realise that 1) Reggie is nowhere near anywhere he can catch a bus or a taxi to wherever home is and 2) that is a rather sketchy part of town.

-Before he knows it, he's in his car, because he can't just leave some poor unfortunate soul out there, knowing he could have helped.

-When he finds Reggie, he's kind of surprised to see the guy is in his early thirties and not, as Ray was projecting, a teenager or just-turned young adult like his own kids.

-"Reggie?" he asks, and Reggie looks so sad and small his protective instincts flare up again. He opens the passenger door for him and Reggie slides in, looking embarrassed and apologising profusely.

-"Oh man and you're super hot too and I can't even hit on you because you might kick me out of the car and also you already know what a loser I am," Reggie blurts out, and Ray just chuckles because yeah, Reggie is a very honest and rambly drunk.

-He's about to ask Reggie what exactly his address is, since on the phone he only asked for busses to a specific neighbourhood, but Reggie is already passed out in the passenger's seat.

-Which is why - and god he must be insane - he brings Reggie home. He's not quite trusting enough to let him in the guest room inside the house, but he pulls out the sofa in the studio, carries Reggie there, and covers him with some blankets. There's nothing in here worth stealing except Rose's piano, which is pretty impossible to get out of there through the gate (he knows, since Rose pointed it out after he spent a whole Saturday building it when the kids were little, laughing at his face).

-He puts a large note on the door to come up to the house for breakfast if he wants, or some painkillers, and goes back to bed.

-Around ten the next morning, there's a sheepish knock on the backdoor. Ray meets Reggie with some painkillers and a glass of water, getting a muttered 'you really are a hero' as Reggie downs them.

-He kind of has to fill Reggie in on what the hell happened because he can't remember, and the guy was really embarrassed. He admits that his friends warned him not to go on this date, that the guy seemed sketchy, but that he was really hot and charming and he had a motorcycle, and well, he was getting a bit sick of being the perpetually single dude in their friend group.

-They actually get to talking a little about how hard dating is, how The Apps suck, how people only seem to want hook-ups anymore. Ray tells Reggie about how he and his wife had a bizarre Meet Cute where she chased him all over the city because he lost his keys during a photo walk, but he couldn't hear her because he had his Walkman on. And how he wishes he could just have something like that again, an actual 'how we met' story that didn't involve swiping or emojis.

-Yes he grimaces a little at how 'walkman' dates him, but Reggie just swoons at how romantic that is, and tells him about his friends Alex and Willie who literally crashed into each other.

-Around that time, Reggie's friend Alex starts FRANTICALLY CALLING HIM like 'omg you called me seven times in the middle of the night are you okay' and Reggie has to reassure him that he hasn't been serial murdered. He leaves out the whole 'I called a stranger and slept in his garage' part, which, clever.

-Maybe Ray offers to make him breakfast and then drive him home.

-Maybe Reggie asks him out in the car, hopeful and cute and 'hey, you wanted a cool meet cute story right?'

-Maybe Ray says yes.

[itsdeathofabachelor]

I love the idea of Kakyoin being super into DND and going to someone’s basement every other week to play before getting kidnapped by a homo ambiguous vampire. Like, after the events of SDC he just kind of shows up again after a month with his jacked emo friend who looks like he’s going to skin everyone at the table alive.

Not only just that, Kakyoin now knows way too much about how to apply real life combat scenarios to this table top game and everyone is just kind of like, okay???? Where the fuck did you learn that???

They’re all very hyper specific so it’s like, yeah, you could ignore it, but knowing exactly where the most prominent arteries are in human anatomy and then modifying that knowledge by multiplying mass by weight or something in order to apply it with an orc’s theoretical anatomy and getting it spot on is really really hard to ignore.

Keep in mind, Kakyoin was a full on assassin for an unspecified amount of time, likely doing insane shit with his stand he’d never dreamed of doing before. Like when he possessed that lady and never did it again because he probably didn’t even know he could do that and now has to live with the knowledge he could do that if he wanted to.

I don’t talk about Polneraff or Advol too much on this blog but I think, at some point, they visit because Advol is earnestly searching for the rest of the arrows and Polneraff is only with him because he kicked up such a fuss at the SPW secretary’s office Advol heard him in the conference room downstairs.

So his DND group calls and Kakyoin is huddled around his rotary dial phone, trying to use his back to shield the sound of Jotaro slamming Polneraff’s face into the floor. Advol is watching from over a mug of Matcha tea. Waiting until Jotaro inevitably tries to take out star platinum and is then temporarily set on fire.

The fire alarm goes off. Kakyoin, sweating, says he’ll call them back.

[darchildre]

A Costume Piece, part 2

In which a burglary is attempted, and everything falls complete apart.

Thing 1:

One accepts that one is going to encounter gross nonsense when one reads old books, but it's never pleasant. My general practice is to acknowledge the gross nonsense and then move on to talk about more interesting topics if possible. The racism and antisemitism in this story sucks, and it makes the reading less enjoyable. Which is a shame, as it's totally unnecessary and the story would otherwise be a lot of fun.

Thing 2:

I love Raffles' little bolthole studio full of costumes and art supplies, and I wish we got to see more of it. Can he actually paint at all, do you think? He doesn't have any evidence of doing so - no paintings in progress - but it would be very like Raffles to have prepared for the possibility that he might have to.

(Also, the implication that his artist persona is specifically looking for male models, hence all the male costumes kept in storage.)

Thing 3:

"...Where's that mask?" I produced it with a hand whose trembling I tried in vain to still, and could have died for Raffles when he made no comment on what he could not fail to notice. His own hands were firm and cool as he adjusted my mask for me, and then his own. "By Jove, old boy," he whispered cheerily, "you look about the greatest ruffian I ever saw!..."

Face-touching, and Bunny is trying to be so brave but is still so anxious, and Raffles is so kind and encouraging and I'm dying. DYING.

Thing 4:

In which everything goes wrong

A) God, the eye-dialect is so goofy. Please stop.

B) I like that, in these early stories, Raffles is an amateur and makes rookie mistakes, like not thinking about footprints, or being fooled about Rosenthall leaving the house. He's done a few more jobs than Bunny at this point, but he's still learning as he goes.

C) Aww, Bunny thinks he looks scary! Considering all the other times people describe him as a "little innocent" or his own later musing on how his life of crime doesn't show on his face, I'm going to put this down to stress and having just been punched.

D) Bunny, my love, I need you to watch some horror movies or something - when you're being pursued by people who want to kill you, you never run upstairs if you can help it. Downstairs and out is nearly always better.

E) Rosenthall, violently raving and waving his gun around, is super terrifying. Especially when he starts doing his terrible sharpshooter act with Bunny. Poor rabbit. Raffles had better be awfully nice to him after.

F) Bunny has clearly gotten at least a little better at seeing through Raffles' disguises, because he pegs him as the policeman at once. (This one's easier, I'm sure, since you can likely see his face.) I would like to know more about Raffles' Oxfordian collection of policeman's helmets. Also, our first mention of Mackenzie, before we have properly met the gentleman.

G) While I generally like that they barely get away with their lives and thus don't get a payout this time - it goes with my point above about learning as they go and occasionally that means failure - if you would like to watch the 50% fluffier (and somewhat-but-not-entirely less racist) version of this story, in the 1970s tv show they do manage to get the diamonds.

[myshredda]

ok all this angst abt red leaving duck and duck knowing it's bound to happen eventually has made me think

(this got much angstier than i thought it would so tw for panic attacks and thoughts abt sh)

it's different now than it was in the healthy episode or even in the transport episode bc now they've grown comfortable w each other. They have a relationship, kids, a life together. Red wouldn't leave all that, would he? Normally duck is pretty confident that he wouldn't but sometimes doubt and horrible memories get the better of him.

Maybe he's up late one night, tossing and turning, head filled with anxiety so he decides to go downstairs and cook. (bc it's a relaxing thing he knows how to do and definitely not bc maybe if he proves he can be useful, Red won't leave him this time.) Turns out cooking just makes everything worse bc of all the horrible memories that he has in that kitchen and now it's dark and he's alone and his mind is a mess. the knives are looking a little too sharp and he's cutting a little too quickly and a little too close to his fingers. It would be so easy to miss and cut the wrong thing...The stove is hot and it would be so easy to just reach out... He's ripping stray feathers out inbetween throwing random things into a bowl and attempting to stir them. He can't fucking breathe, and Red's going to leave him and now he has to protect two small ones instead of one but who's going to protect him??? And he's alone in the kitchen and it's too dark and why can't he fucking breathe??????

Red hears someone mucking around in the kitchen at 3am and assumes it's one of the small ones but they're both there. Duck's bed is empty tho which sends a shiver of fear through him. he's goes downstairs and walks in on duck crying into a bowl of potatoes, gripping the peeler a little too tightly. He doesn't entirely know what to do but he knows the first thing is to take the peeler away and the second is to get him out of the kitchen. So he scoops him up and sits in his armchair while asking him what's wrong. Duck takes a big gasp of air like he was drowning as soon as they get out of the kitchen doorway and is a lot more present. Red just holds him for a while, while he cries, absolutely terrified bc none of them have had anything as bad as this since the teachers were still here.

Eventually duck explains that he doesn't want red to leave anymore. it starts as him begging him not to go, not to leave them alone anymore, but as he gets it out of his system, it turns into him saying he would prefer if red didn't go but understands if he needs to. they would be ok on their own, duck can handle whatever would happen wo him. He's strong, he's resigned himself to it, no more blubbering like a baby, it was very cowardly and unrespectful.

Red's in tears at this point bc even tho he doesnt know the specifics of what happened when he left the first time, he knows it was bad and both yellow and duck still have nightmares about it from time to time. And it was all his fault for leaving. He apologizes over and over and assures him he's never going to leave like that again, never ever. no matter how many times duck says he believes him and is feeling much better now actually, red still feels like he's not doing enough and needs to make up for it somehow. So then it's his turn to cry like a baby while duck holds him, which secretly makes him feel worse bc duck shouldn't be comforting him, but he just pushes his head deeper into his feathers.

eventually they tire themselves out and fall asleep in the chair. the kids make fun of them in the morning for being old and falling asleep as soon as they sit down somewhere, and it seems like everything's gone back to normal. except now there's less underlaying anxiety between the adults and they seem to be a bit more in love.

May I just start out by saying your fucking asks always send me into a state of hysterics just because of how GOOD they always are like. Your input literally is the backbone of this blog at this point, so thank you for pouring your brain into my askbox and giving me the privilege of vamping off it because it's SO FUN.

that being said this one is deeply evil and you'll be hearing from my therapist. I WISH I COULD WRITE A DUCK BREAKDOWN SO REAL AND SO IN CHARACTER UOGHH

Duck trying to find comfort in the familiar motions of cooking and instead throwing himself head-first into a panic attack over trauma he barely remembers, and now he's starting to spiral, and he's starting to get a bald patch on his hand from the feathers he's missing and he CAN'T THINK and everything is too sharp, too much, and what if Red really leaves him again. It's so different now. Between him and Yellow, and the other one, and the other other one. He loves them now, just as much as he loves Red. He really doesn't know if he'd be strong enough to protect all three now, after all, he couldn't even protect himself. Before, without Red, he was powerless, and it nearly cost him everything. And this time, if he's gone too, whose going to take care of his already traumatized kids?

But this time, thank god- thank fuck, Red stays. Red's here, and he can't really tell whats going on, his mind is fuzzy and black spots are dancing in his eyes, but the next thing he knows is his peeler is gone and he's in Red's chair and Red's there too and Red's face is so close and he sounds so concerned when he's asking him what's wrong and Duck just cries. Cries and cries and cries, the first time he's done it in front of Red, the hardest he's ever done it in his life, and all he can do is tell Red he'd prefer if he stayed now, and he feels so fucking pathetic and weak but it's like he'll die if he doesn't get the words out, it's not exactly the broken-hearted begging he wanted to do, but it's still so unrespectable of him it almost makes him feel worse. Weak, he's too weak to save himself, save his kids, to even say what he means. He's so fucking weak.

And now Red's crying too and it makes Duck feel worse because he's not supposed to make Red feel bad, he's supposed to be the rock, unmoved by fickle emotions, and here he is spilling his guts and making his- his...Making Red cry. But Red just keeps saying he's sorry and he'll never leave again, and it makes Duck's stomach feel weird, and the air in his lungs gets all fluttery, and his head draws itself back up out of his stomach, and its almost too good to be true, but Red just keeps saying it and saying it so it must be true. So he calms down, and Red gets worse, and now he's the one doing the comforting, which is what he's more familiar with, so he does so, and cradles Red's big head in his hands, pulling is forward, hiding it in the curve of his shoulder, and it feels like something that was broken inside him heals a little bit, there, with Red, again, in the dark.

The kids make fun of them in the morning because their kids make fun of everything, it's like its their job or something. Them sleeping in the chair is funny, apparently. But Duck can't find it in him to be too mad at them, he's just glad they feel safe enough to be little buggers. Red just tells them to go kick rocks or some other asinine thing, and it makes them all giggle and then Green's asking about breakfast and Pink wants fun cereal even though it's not the weekend, and Yellow ALSO wants fun cereal and maybe a grapefruit and maybe they could have some potatoes? Yellow likes potatoes, and Duck makes them the best 'cause they have the crispy crunchy bits. So Duck heaves a very long-suffering sigh and agrees to the potatoes but not the fun cereal (Shreddies or nothing, you little hellions) but before he can get up Red grips his hand tight, and Duck looks at him like 'wtf are u doing' and Red stares into his eyes in a Very Meaningful Way and deliberately squeezes his hand once, twice, three times

I. Love. You.

Duck squeezes back, of course he does, and it's so much sweeter now that his soul is light. He can barely feel the scar on his stomach, and his kids are moaning about potatoes and grapefruits and how yogurt isn't a breakfast food unless it's flavored to be, and did you know that plain yogurt is like sour cream's cousin? No it isn't. Yes it is! That's stupid! You're Stupid! Duck sighs again, and adds one more squeeze.

I. Love. You. Too.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Laito Dark [07]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in Yui’s bedroom

Yui: I’m so thankful to Reiji-san for what he did...

( I nearly said something horrible to Laito-kun again... )

( It might already be too late but...I want to be able to understand and accept him, even if nobody else does. )

( While he might have overcome them, his emotional scars from the past have not vanished. )

( Up until now, I’ve only ever seen Laito-kun’s outer facade rather than trying to figure out what goes on inside his mind. )

( However, I love him and treasure him more than anything or anyone else. )

Yui: ...I love him, huh? 

( Do I really though...? Now that I think about it... )

( I do think it was his fragile side which I fell for...Although he might get upset if I were to admit that. )

( That’s why I want to protect him...and support him...Be there for him at all times. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー Yui wakes up to the sound of footsteps

Yui: ーー Hm...?

( I must have dozed off at some point...What time is it right now...? )

( Only six in the morning, huh? ...It’s awfully noisy downstairs though...Even though everyone should be quietly slumbering away at this hour... )

I wonder if something happened...?

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: ...What’s wrong? You’ve all gathered together...

Laito: Nfu~ You’ve woken up as well? Sorry for the noise. 

Yui: Did something happen? 

Ayato: That bastard Richter got murdered. 

Yui: Eh!? Richter-san!? 

Laito: Exactly. Seems like someone did him in on his way back from our manor yesterday night.

Kanato: Apparently they found his corpse stabbed on the peak of Kaminashi Tower. Now that’s a rather fascinating way to kill someone, I must say. Fufufu...

Yui: No way...Who could have done it?

Laito: Hmー I’m not sure but maybe he had a fight with one of his buddies? 

I really had the feeling that he came here yesterday to get information out of me. 

Perhaps he was deemed utterly useless after he went to report back following his defeat, so they just got rid of him?

ーー By the Vampire who was roaming around this manor very recently, for example? 

Subaru: ...Hah!? Hold up, you bastard...You knew it was a Vampire who went in and out of our house back then!? 

Laito: Eh? You didn’t notice? 

Subaru: Aah!? Are you makin’ fun of me!?

*THUD*

Laito: Huh? So the others didn’t realize either? 

Shuu: We could sense that someone got in but not that it was a Vampire specifically...

Laito: Hmー I was convinced you were all aware but simply decided to ignore the matter.

Yui: And you believe that this Vampire and Richter-san might have been working together and plotting something? 

Laito: Well, it’s all just speculation. But I suppose it would have been easy for them to understand each other as fellow Vampires. 

Reiji: I see...I suppose we could try asking the Familiar who went to take a look at the murder scene. 

*Flap flap flap* 

Reiji: ーー Could you sense the presence of a Demon in the vicinity of Kaminashi Tower? 

*Flap flap flap* 

Laito: ーー See? I knew it.

Yui: What did they say?

Laito: They sensed two Vampires: Uncle and one other person.

Yui: Then your prediction might actually be correct...

Laito: Well, we still don’t know where this Vampire came from.

ーー Come on, go and investigate the case a bit more. 

While you’re at it, would you please collect Uncle’s corpse as well? Although he might be nothing but a pile of ashes by this point. 

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: ( I wonder who this person could be...? It’s kind of scary... )

Shuu: Haah, what a pain...Although I feared this would happen sooner or later...

Kanato: What do you mean?

Shuu: Just think about it. That idiot over there has been doing an incredibly poor job at governing our clan...

So who do you think would be the most satisfied with the current situation? 

Laito: Well, I suppose it’d be the Vampires themselves. 

Kanato: I see, it all makes sense now.

Subaru: In the Demon World there’s constant fighting over sovereignty and territory...While over here you’re at risk of gettin’ murdered by your own kind...What a shitstorm. 

Laito: Good grief, I’d gladly give away these Powers to anyone who wants them. 

So I wonder why they won’t just come straight to me to ask for them? 

Ayato: I mean, you usually wouldn’t expect to be handed them for free, right?

Laito: Nfu~ I thought I made it very clear that I don’t adhere to logic. 

I guess the people just don’t know me well enough~? Right, Bitch-chan? 

*Rustle* 

Yui: Eh...!? Wellーー 

( What kind of answer should I give him...? )

Selection

→ You can’t blame them (❦)

Yui: You can’t blame them. There aren’t many people who can understand you. 

Laito: Well, I guess so? Not even you truly understand me, do you? 

Yui: I...do. 

Laito: Heeh, do you really? 

Yui: ...Well, I love you after all..

Laito: ...!

Kanato: Haah...

Ayato: Fuck thisー

Shuu: Could you guys get a room please? 

Yui: I-I’m sorry...

Laito: Nfufu~ I personally don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a little sappy? 

Yui: ( ...He’s treating it like some kind of kink...Haah... )

→ I understand you 

Yui: ...I understand you? 

Laito: Heehー ...That’s kind of annoying.

Yui: Eh!?

Laito: Just look at that smug look on your face. Makes me want to crush it with my very own hand...Perhaps I should give it a try? 

*Rustle* 

Yui: C-Cut it out...!

Laito: Oh come on, don’t be like that~ It might open a whole new world of excitement to you, who knows?

Yui: I’ll kindly pass!

Laito: Really? Such a shame. 

Yui: ( Haah, I figured a straightforward approach might be most effective but...It’s tricky. )

Ayato: Anyway, dude, you’d seriously just give away your Powers if somebody were to ask for them!? 

Laito: Hmー I guess it’d depend on the person. I wouldn’t go as far as to give them to someone I dislike?

Ah! Right! I guess this would be as good of an opportunity as ever to give them to you, Ayato-kun? 

Ayato: Haah!?

Laito: Say, you think that’s a good idea as well, don’t you, Bitch-chan? 

Yui: ...If that’s what you want, I don’t see the problem? 

Ayato: Oi, oi, Chichinashi. I can’t believe you’re takin’ this guy’s side as weーー

Shuu: ...You say that now, but do you even know how you’re supposed to pass your Powers down to someone else?

Laito: No idea~ Do you know, perhaps? 

Shuu: I don’t. But it shouldn’t be something you can just easily toss around from one person to another. 

Laito: Well, I’m sure it’s not...

At this rate, who knows how many more annoyances will come our way just like Uncle did...

So I want to just hand them over to someone as soon as I can. 

Honestly, I don’t even mind if they come with the intention to kill me, so if only they would just hurry up a little~

Ayato: ...You sound pretty happy saying that? 

Laito: Why of course! We’re Vampires after all. 

Death is celebrated as a joyous occasion...Remember? 

Yui: ( Laito-kun... )

Monologue

I am sure those are his true feelings (本心). 

That’s how I felt about it. 

‘If I could, I would give them to someone elseーー’ 

no matter how wonderful or amazing those Powers might be,

and regardless of their immense force,

I am positive that is what Laito-kun would say,

That is just how deeply,

Laito-kun despises Karlheinz-san. 

He will reject (否定する) anything which belonged to that man. 

I decided to stay quiet and watch, exactly because I realized that. 

However, I wonder why? 

I just felt so incredibly sad. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー