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petnews2day · 2 years

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Pets face an uncertain future as owners struggle to afford their food

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Pets face an uncertain future as owners struggle to afford their food

A Helping Paw Food Bank helps owners feed their pets if they are struggling with the costs of keeping an animal (Picture: Getty)

Tyesha Muncaster knocks on the door of the three-bed terraced house and a woman opens it – her face is wary.

The two speak for a few seconds, and then the woman behind the door starts to smile. Next, Tyesha offers her a bag, stuffed full of pet food and treats, and she accepts it gratefully, as a slight look of relief sweeps across her face.

Heading back to her car after the two-minute conversation, Tyesha is also smiling – but admits she feels emotional. The doorstep exchange she has just made was a bag full of enough food to feed the woman’s dog for a week, as she simply could no longer afford to.

‘She asked me not to judge her for getting in touch and asking for a donation,’ Tyesha tells Metro.co.uk.. ‘I told her, I’m not here to judge, I’m only here to help.’

And that is exactly what, through her A Helping Paw Food Bank, Tyesha is doing. Helping. Helping owners feed their pets, and helping pets stay with their owners.

Because with energy bills soaring, food prices growing and winter looming, people are becoming more concerned about how they’re going to continue to provide for the much-loved animals that are part of their family.

In the RSPCA’s recently released Animal Kindness Index in partnership with the Scottish SPCA, it revealed that 72% of pet owners think the cost of living will impact their animals. Almost 70% expressed concern that the cost of care was increasing, and a fifth worried about how they’ll afford to feed their pets.

Tyesha set up her initiative when she realised how much demand there was when she offered out her leftover kitten food on Facebook (Picture: Supplied)

The devastating reality of this was something Tyesha discovered only by accident, after getting two kittens herself.

When the 24-year-old bought a house in Ashington with her boyfriend Michael in July last year, the first thing she wanted was a cat. And eventually, she rescued two male kittens – Milo and Oreo – from a woman who couldn’t look after them anymore.

‘I fell in love with them straight away,’ Tyesha remembers. ‘They’re my best friends. Oreo is more like a puppy than a kitten, and is very affectionate and social. He’s besotted with Michael. Milo doesn’t like anyone but me. He lets me cradle him like a baby!’

When the kittens turned one in August, Tyesha found herself with 40 pouches of kitten food left over. As it was so much more expensive than adult cat food, she advertised it on a local Facebook page, offering it to anyone who was struggling.

‘I couldn’t believe the response I got,’ she says. ‘At least 10 people got in touch straight away, asking if they could have it. It made me realise there was a huge demand for it.

‘I’d always enjoyed volunteering with charities and in fact, had been about to get in touch with our local food bank to see if I could help there. But this made me realise I could help in another way.’

Unsure of how it was going to work, Tyesha started off by setting up a Facebook page, hoping to bridge the gap between people who could help and people who needed it. She promoted it in local groups and the next day, food started arriving on her doorstep – and it hasn’t stopped since.

One pet food bank coordinator said: ‘it seems as though the cost-of-living increase means that more people are struggling to afford to feed their pets and are relying on the food banks’ (Picture: Supplied)

‘Our house was over-run,’ she laughs. ‘I remember Michael coming home from work a few nights later and asking why there was pet food stacked everywhere. We couldn’t use the downstairs toilet for three weeks! It just showed me how kind people were.’

As soon as she had enough stock, Tyesha began to offer it to local pet owners across Northumberland. ‘I’ll always remember my first delivery,’ she says. ‘It was a lady with quite a few cats. She started to cry when I handed her the bag of food and gave me a cuddle.’

It was no wonder the woman was so emotional. Because, without that food, people are facing terrible choices.

The RSPCA set up their own Food Bank Project in Lancashire in December 2021 as a result of financial pressures during the pandemic. However, the coronavirus crisis, coupled with the current cost of living rising, has seen the need for the food bank increase now more than ever.

Inspector for Lancashire and food bank coordinator, Alison Fletcher, tells Metro.co.uk: ‘Sadly, it seems as though the cost-of-living increase means that more people are struggling to afford to feed their pets and are relying on the food banks more and more.

‘We are now bracing for an influx of abandoned pets or owners who have to give them up because they can no longer afford to keep them. We hope that through the food bank we will be able to provide some support to people and their much-loved pets.’

The charity is seeing an increase in rescued animals coming into its care, with many centres already full and others close to capacity. At the same time, rehoming is slowing down – and there are disturbing signs that even more people are looking to give up their pets.

The charity Dogs Trust charity has received a record number of calls from people asking it to take in their dogs (Picture: Getty Images)

Research by the charity shows in April 2021 there were around 4,400 searches per month around ‘giving up pets’ and in April 2022, this figure rose by 50% to a high of 6,600. With the current economic situation, this is surely only going to worsen.

In recent months, the charity Dogs Trust has received a record number of calls from people asking it to take in their dogs. August 2022 surpassed its previous record for the most enquiries in a single month, with 4,993 owners enquiring about its handover service – more than a quarter more than last year.

Meanwhile, a survey of dog owners by the charity discovered that 43% of respondents thought they would find it more difficult to give their dog all they needed. Vet bills continued to cause the most concern, but the cost of food was also an issue.

‘Dogs Trust has been receiving a shocking and unprecedented number of calls from owners asking us to take in their dogs because they feel they won’t be able to see them through this crisis,’ says Owen Sharp, CEO of the canine charity.

‘Over the last month, we received on average 17 handover calls an hour from desperate owners feeling they’ve run out of options.’

These are all heart-breaking situations that Tyesha is hearing about – and indeed, seeing – first-hand. People are believing they’ll have to re-home their much-loved pets because they can no longer afford to provide for them. Or worse.

‘I’ve had one woman tell me she thought she was going to have to have her dog put down because she just couldn’t afford to feed her anymore,’ Tyesha says. ‘She genuinely thought it was the kindest thing to do – a last resort.’

Tyesha has even had a request for food to feed a bearded dragon (Picture: Getty Images/EyeEm)

Now, Tyesha is being inundated with messages asking for donations for cats, dogs, guinea pigs, hamsters, rabbits, budgies and has even had a request for food to feed a bearded dragon.

She delivers the food before and after her full-time job as a SEO strategist, promising to have any donations with the owners – and animals – within 12 hours.

Within a month of starting her initiative, Tyesha realised that she was no longer just running the ‘small project’ she had embarked upon and that it had turned into an unofficial pet food bank.

Wanting to keep up with demand, she advertised for volunteers and now has a team of 15 people, spread across the county, to help her.

‘They are all amazing,’ Tyesha enthuses. ‘Four of them answer the messages we receive, one lady, Louise, collects all of the stock in her living room and Maria drives miles to pick up supplies.’

Together, they share not only the physical load, but also the emotional one. Because, as Tyesha says, her new role means that she is now witnessing desperate scenarios. ‘I’d never seen poverty like I am now and, even though I’m helping as much as I can, it’s extremely hard to walk away from it,’ she explains. ‘I’ll often get back into the car and cry because of what I’ve seen. Thankfully, Michael is always there for me to talk through these things with and I always feel better after a cuddle with my cats.’

It was Tyesha’s cats that made her aware of the need for food donations, who are also a great source of comfort for their owner after a hard day seeing the levels of stress the cost of living is causing (Picture: Supplied)

Tyesha has also teamed up with My Pet HQ, a local pet shop in the centre of Morpeth, who now support her efforts.

‘Ever since we started My Pet HQ in 2017, we’ve always helped with charities,’ says Caroline Coppen, who owns the store with her wife Diane. ‘We keep a close eye on our stock and if something isn’t selling, we’ll offer it to the various local pet charities to make room to try something else.’

Diane had already seen Tyesha’s initial posts on local Facebook groups and been in touch to offer her donations. But after being introduced by a mutual friend, the store’s involvement has increased. Not only have they introduced a donation table in their shop, Caroline and Diane offer Tyesha storage, advice and contacts to other local organisations to help her help the right people.

As a small business owner, Caroline has seen the impact of the cost-of-living crisis first-hand. Not only are her own bills soaring, but as someone who has always stocked high quality food, with high meat content, she has noticed a growing number of customers cutting back to more cost-effective brands, something she has had to embrace herself in store.

So when Tyesha explained about the number of people who can no longer afford pet food at all, Caroline’s heart went out to them.

‘These aren’t people who are irresponsible pet owners, who have bought cats and dogs when they can’t afford them -it’s devastating,’ she explains. ‘They are people who have been walking an increasing tightrope over the last few years and now, it is tipping over to the point where, when people are having to chose between heating and eating, pets are inevitably falling down their list of priorities, no matter how loved they are.’

Tyesha with Caroline from My Pet HQ, where they have a donations table (Picture: Supplied)

Since Caroline has introduced the donation table, she has witnessed some great acts of kindness. ‘We had a customer who spent £75 on pet food and put it all straight on the table, and another customer who bought every single tin of a particular brand of dog food we had, and again donated it immediately. I tell everyone they are under no obligation to buy from us, they can bring in their donations from home, or other stores, but people are just extremely kind.’

And it is a relief they are, because the number of people contacting A Helping Paw is only increasing every day.

More: Animals

Tyesha, who is currently applying for charitable status for her project so she can make it a national venture, has had to introduce new rules, including requiring people to show their ID to receive their donations and also limiting the amount of food people can receive.

‘At the start, we didn’t have a limit and we just gave what people asked for,’ Tyesha explains. ‘But now, we restrict it to a weeks’ worth of food, and a maximum of twice a month. However hard it is, I have to remind myself that we’re not there to feed people’s pets indefinitely, we’re just there to help tide people over until payday.

‘Our main aim is – and always will be – to keep pets with their owners.’

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]

Share your views in the comments below.

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creepyscritches · 2 years

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So I just got two baby rats after taking a break from keeping them consistently since 2013 and it's a good opportunity to lay out the actual cost of getting new rats. They're unassumingly expensive and definitely are not an impulse buy. The only reason I could get them at such short notice is I already had a lot of the base costs covered like bedding, a few toys, and most importantly the enclosure. I'm also pretty financially stable, so the follow up costs were something I already had in place--they're expensive!

Let's break down the cost of day 1, bringing them home. The rats themselves were $25 each, but buy 1 get 1 half off, bringing the total to $37.50. However, they also needed more bedding, a hide, food, and a carrier which quickly adds up. In total, it cost $170 to bring them home w the bare minimum. If I also needed a cage, that total would have been closer to $300 for the smallest appropriate size for 2 rats.

One of the rats had an upper respiratory infection that I spotted immediately upon picking her up. Most rats are already born with the causal organism (mycoplasma) and the rest tend to pick it up from litter mates. Assume you will need a vet visit in the first week to take care of these early URIs (we went today!).

My vet charges $85 for an exotic exam--exotics are usually anything outside of standard dogs and cats, so expect exotic prices for any small pet. I scheduled their appointment the next day after bringing them home (Monday) and had them examined by today (Thursday). These appointments can't wait or else the URI may result in lifelong complications! The vet saw both but only felt the sick rat needed the full exam, so I only had one of the $85 exam fees. Since she needed antibiotics, I also had to pay for 2 prescriptions (this is where the real cost comes in). The vet total came to $210 and both rats are on a 10 day antibiotic regimen. I also picked up several types of baby food to mix the medicine in for around $8.

I also needed ledges and hammocks for their enclosure, which roughly came to $50. I need more than that, so I expect the final total to be around $150. I'll also transition them to a healthier food than they've been eating, but it's pricey as well at around $30 a bag.

So let's tally the cost of 4 days of rat ownership with a relatively stocked starting point.

Rats: $37.50

Initial supplies: $132.50

Cage accessories: $50

Baby food: $8

Vet care: $210

Total cost: $438

So the initial cost of these animals was NOT the sticker on the cage ($37.50), but a whopping $438. I also still need at least $100 more worth of cage pieces and maybe another $100 for replacement trays for their cage's shelves. I very well expect to run upwards of $600 to get them at an acceptable level of care.

ALL of these are mandatory for a healthy rat. We can't skip any of these basic care requirements. Rodents are mischaracterized as "easy low cost pets", but all of them have these huge costs just to have a basic enriching set up. My guinea pigs have the same story and so do all my past hamsters. They're a commitment both emotionally and financially and it's important to have these things lined up when you bring a little dude home!

#creepy chatter #Expensive little rodents

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toxic-gorgon · 3 years

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Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die.

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate.

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try.

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man.

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer.

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor.

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts.

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there.

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease.

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!”

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey.

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.”

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were.

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back.

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit.

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned.

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises.

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio.

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb.

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.”

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock.

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed.

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

#jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #dio brando #yandere #yandere dio #dio x reader #hamon user reader #y/n #dio x y/n #extra spicy #dark themes #part 3 #stardust crusaders #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

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sun-summoning · 4 years

Text

part ii | part iii | part iv

after speaking to kido, sakura rushes home. when she calms down from the rage that nearly had her crush his throat, sakura can admit that she doesn’t really think this is him. he knew a lot about her for someone that was supposed to have been locked up all this time, but he seemed genuinely surprised to hear that sarada had been taken, if not disappointed. he fit the profile of what shikamaru and kakashi thought -- that someone wanted sarada for her eyes -- but sakura can’t stop the nagging feeling that somehow this runs deeper.

back in her apartment, megumi’s body is right where she left it, and sakura feels awful for having moved so mechanically. megumi was an orphan, but she was still someone’s little girl. ashamed, sakura lays a sheet over her and swears she’ll do more later.

she heads to her bedroom and begins her work. alone, she summons one of the cats she’d made a contract with shortly after her marriage. the black cat is sleek and holds himself confidently. he’s always been an efficient one, quick to do as she needs and be competent about it. he regards sakura with a cock of his head.

“sarada’s been taken.”

“your daughter.”

“yes.”

the cat nods. “i shall inform the clowder. if anyone spots her, i will let you know.”

“thank you.” sakura pauses, self-conscious for needing to rely on everybody else for this part. “if you...if any of you are able to come into contact with sasuke-kun, can you pease let him know too?”

“of course.”

“thank you.” sakura promises to provide the usual exchange at a later time and the cat disappears with a puff of smoke. she heads to her bedroom and she begins to pack in silence.

her movements are as meticulous as they are automatic, done just so she’s ready to leave the moment she knows where she needs to go. her medkit is stocked. her bag has scrolls, weapons, supplies, and sarada’s favourite toy. she changes out of her days clothes and into the leggings and turtleneck of a uniform she hasn’t worn in years. her cloak is in the front closet. she needs to change her boots. she’ll put on the boots now. she leaves the armour on her bed to don later. right now, they only hinder her movements. she goes to the drawer where her mask hides in plain sight among other trinkets and knick knacks, and on the dresser she notices a flower.

sakura stills as she takes in the detail she must have missed in her earlier haste. she considers the simple glass vase and the single red flower sitting in it. its petals curl at the ends and some are even missing.

this flower has travelled and as sakura considers what it is, she knows it’s travelled far.

konoha became unbearable by the time she tuned twenty. it's so petty and selfish and she'd never say it aloud, but she hated seeing everyone else so happy. she's happy too -- has so many reasons to be -- but she couldn’t help the nagging jealousy she feels when ino declined her invitations because she was going to see sai or when naruto prioritized her almost always only to head home to hinata.

she wanted to be someone's too. she wanted to be their focus and heart and home, but sakura already knew who her someone was and knew that on some level she was his too, so all she needs to do right now is wait.

most of the time, sakura wasn’t bitter. being apart from him wasn't unfamiliar, nor the steadfastness, nor the hope that one day this will pay off one day, nor the self reminders that what she felt was irrelevant as long as sasuke knew and was comforted by the fact that she would always love him.

to suppress her frustrations rather than confront them, sakura worked. she worked tirelessly and relentlessly and by nineteen, they'd named her the greatest medical ninja konoha has ever seen for her accomplishments, ideas, and innovations.

this took her to suna at twenty and to ame at twenty-one to help establish their own clinics.

“i have a gift for you,” ino told her before she left.

sakura expected a ribbon or a piece of jewellery or that new book on poisons she mentioned she was interested in. instead, ino handed her a bag. its contents shift, imbalanced, and inside sakura finds a potted plant.

“a flower?”

“not just any flower, you ungrateful bitch.” ino pointed at her accusingly and then at the plant. its petals are a bright red with darker flecks at their base. “i made it.”

“you made it?”

“yes. you know me, interrogating and mind-reading by day, splicing plants together and making my own by night.”

“that’s sad.”

“fuck you. you’re sad.”

sakura laughed and ino laughed too but it got a bit sad because ino probably definitely knew that sakura was sad. “anyway,” ino continued, “we’ll call it the sakuino flower--”

“how creative.”

“--and i expect you to keep it alive through all of your travels.”

sakura frowned at ino, wondering if ino understood that a potted plant had no place in her travels, but ino didn’t seem to care. moreover, this particular thing didn’t seem to have the ability to survive in the desert climate she was going to be living in for the next six months.

when sakura expressed as much, ino waved the matter off. “deal with it,” she said, giving sakura one last hug. “you’re one of the brightest minds to come out of this village. you’ll figure something out.”

its common name is the fire poppy, having originated from the fire country but somehow managing to survive in the deserts of wind country as well. the flower is know for its vibrant red petals, eye-catching and jarring across the barren brown it’s normally found in. sakura had to play with the original plant’s physiology when she first moved to ensure it could survive the alternate climate. in her spare time, when she wasn’t working with the kids, she deigned to work with her plant, eventually working on cloning the original. at some point she’d given one to a nurse she worked with who much admired the first, and gaara asked if he could try planting them in his garden. from there, the spores began to spread.

“why the fire poppy?”

was this someone from suna?

sakura considers the obvious motivation of revenge, but who would even want that? there were people who didn’t appreciate her friendship with kankuro or any of his siblings. perhaps an apprentice of chiyo’s who blamed sakura for not saving her when she gave her life for gaara’s. worse, perhaps someone that once worked sasori who resented her for his demise. or maybe someone she, sadly, can’t even remember. a patient she lost during the war whose family hated her.

sakura truly cannot pinpoint a motivation for this, much less a person.

especially a person that would understand the meaning of this flower for her.

ino would never give her this flower. ino would have scoffed at it and created her own. sarada couldn’t have picked it today. and sasuke certainly couldn’t have left it for her.

someone was in her apartment. someone brought it here.

was it here before?

sakura considers the poppy and forces herself to keep calm. stay logical, she demands. stay smart. was the poppy there before? no, she thinks at first. she would have seen it. she’s certain she would have seen it.

but, she can accept, it’s possible she might have missed it. sarada was taken. her babysitter was murdered. it wouldn’t be surprising if sakura missed it. but sakura doesn’t miss things. right?

“don’t gaslight yourself,” she orders.

no, she knows. the flower was not there before, meaning in between her going to kakashi, going to the prison, and then running back home, whoever took her daughter came back.

or worse, there was a team involved and one was with her child and another came back for her.

sakura curses, wishing she’d put on her black ops armour earlier, because whoever brought the flower here is now making their presence known. she senses two people before she sees them and is unsurprised to find sudden flares of strength.

the bedroom is small and they’re in a building. she needs to take this outside, but where? there’s too much risk for others getting hurt in the crossfire. that’s why this was supposed to stay quiet. that’s why this will stay quiet.

they step out of the shadows and sakura assesses them quickly. one male, one female, both fairly young based on stature and development, maybe early twenties at the oldest. they’ll have agility on her, but they won’t have her experience.

the man holds a chokuto. good. an advantage. sakura is excellent at fighting against such a weapon. if they’re foolish enough to use her husband’s favourite sort of blade, perhaps they didn’t do enough research on her. perhaps they were hired? but if they were unprepared, then were they really here to kill her?

are they here to distract her?

that thought fills sakura with dread. is someone trying to keep her busy so she can’t get to sarada on time?

the woman shifts, one leg sliding to the side as she raises her hands. she holds no weapons, therefore she is the weapon. sakura knows all about that. she’ll need to be careful with this one. but she still has a holster on her thigh. it’s thinner that the usual styles. maybe a couple kunai, but more likely a set of sebon. this one is smart then. she’ll know precisely where she needs to hit sakura to stop her.

“haruno sakura,” the man greets with a short nod.

so it is her fault.

if this was about sasuke, about the uchiha, they would know her married name. this is about her, and for that sakura feels worse. her baby was taken and why? just to hurt sakura before killing her? sarada was who knows where with surely no one that could be good and all just to hurt sakura?

sakura snarls, furious in a way only a mother could be, and she feels the chakra pulsing around her fists.

“where is my daughter?”

their masks hide any expressions. they remain at ease in the face of her rage, shockingly unafraid of this woman that can level mountains.

good, sakura thinks. let them be brave. let them come at her like fools.

she runs through the bedroom door to get to the living room where there’s at least more space to maneuver. the man leaps and brings his blade down upon her, but sakura manages to shift to the side. careful to not be forced into a corner, she spins out of his range and into the open middle until the woman runs past her partner and takes sakura on hand-to-hand.

she matches sakura’s punches and kicks blow for blow. she’s good, sakura thinks nervously. and she’s fast. she’s small, maybe half a head shorter than sakura, so she puts her weight behind every quick jab. sakura gives most of her attention to the woman, but keeps a wary on eye on the man who sheathes his chokuto.

what as he planning?

it takes that one moment for the woman to catch her unaware.

sakura chokes on her breath as the woman thrusts a senbon into her shoulder. the shock from that slows her down enough so she can lodge in a second.

“shit,” sakura curses as she stumbles back. she rips the senbon out, but she feels her left arm begin to go numb from the struck pressure point. “what did you do--”

sakura’s eyes widen she she feels something foreign begin to course through her. she considers the senbon, dark with her blood and likely something else. there’s a metallic smell that isn’t from the weapon, and sakura knows she’s been poisoned.

however, her body doesn’t bother to fight it.

sakura watches her opponents, trying to understand how she’s been poisoned with something she’s immune to and just what poison this might be. she’s immune to everything in konoha’s own collection, as well as the ones she shares with shizune.

which poison is this?

does that matter?

sakura scowls at the two people involved in her daughter’s kidnapping and reminds herself that she can take them on one-handed just fine. she pulls her right hand into a fist and charges. the man is closest, so she lunges at him with a chakra-laden punch that sends him barreling into the wall.

she grabs the front of his shirt and as she pulls him forward, his mask falls away to reveal green eyes, cold and lifeless, and a black diamond under his left eye that makes her uneasy.

sakura stares at the man, confused, because she knows this face.

she knows him.

her fear and pain and worry makes it hard to focus, but knows him.

focus.

finally, it clicks.

“isao?”

she thinks she might have seen something like recognition in his eyes. that doesn’t long though. she left herself open, and his partner stabs her shoulder. sakura releases isao with a cry before the woman punches her in the back of the head and everything goes dark.

the sun is up when sakura begins to stir. she hears the birds chirping and people outside going about their days. but the buzz of the television is missing, as are the small thuds of sarada’s steps. where is sarada? sakura wonders hazily, lazily, not quite understanding yet.

where is sarada?

her eyes widen and she sits up so quickly her stomach rolls.

“careful.” tsunade comes into view, steadying sakura and checking her for any problems. “you’re still healing.”

she’s in her own bed. she’s not at the hospital. she got knocked out and the assassins got away. she should’ve done something to track them. dammit. was she so arrogant she didn’t have a failsafe in place for if she didn’t simply beat them? sakura punches the bed, earning a disapproving frown from shizune on her other side.

“there was poison in your system.”

“it was one of ours,” sakura admits warily.

“yes. there are very few people with access to those, much less this particular one.”

the one that the assassin used was meant to render a victim paralyzed but still able to feel. it was a dreadful thing, meant only for the worst of interrogations. or, more accurately, for torture. sakura concocted it in her darkest moments at fourteen under shizune’s watchful eye. since then, while they’ve both had small handfuls of keen students, they’ve probably shared poisons from their personal roster with only five people at most.

for this particular poison, sakura knows only two people they showed it to, and only one of those was a student of sakura’s.

“how did you find me?”

tsunade rolls her eyes. “shizune sent you off to a prison from kakashi’s office. i figured i’d have to check on you shortly after. and it’s a good thing i did, stupid girl.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me. i’m scolding on you.”

“did they find anything useful?”

“no one’s been able to contact your husband.”

“right.”

“and they’re still under the impression that this has to do with the uchiha blood.”

“they would be,” sakura mutters, too tired and in too good company to be anything but blunt.

shizune sighs. “do you know who came after you last night?” the flower is still where she left it on the dresser. shizune follows her gaze to the fire poppy, and all knowing with plants as well, shizune determines its origins. “how did that get here?”

“i think it was to taunt me.” sakura grimaces. “you were right.”

“about?”

“i think this is my fault.”

shizune’s eyes widen and quickly soften with sympathy. “none of this your fault,” she reminds sakura.

tsunade crosses her arms. “enemies of yours then?”

“no.” sakura looks sad. “people i once loved.”

tbc

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janedoe-eyes · 4 years

Text

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 - I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her with concern. Marinette smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik - just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught the plate for a second time when a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

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

Turns out - easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by a man a few years older than him who looked as if death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to moving over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted to go over and demand to know what he could possibly say having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’, and ‘Damian’. She walked up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

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

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

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

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who had recently left a warehouse that belonged to the Penguin. Red Hood stationed across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A familiar itch on the back of his neck told him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance. A dented trash lid resting nearby. The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and sidestepped the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

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

Marinette withdrew following the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

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

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood and looked around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came from, Marinette stopped short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk to a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

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

That night, Marinette seriously considered donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared at in passing for weeks.

Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive here?! What names did the barista say at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush ahead after the warning Plagg gave - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said, nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might still be time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed to snuggle the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

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

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all wary of her but eventually eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

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

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned what transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he slumped down, head in his hands, absorbing the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled her expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see you do. You’ve endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He needed more practice at learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve his Father and siblings - they’d know how to execute a plan - but he felt it had to come at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

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

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team - especially Robin, who became her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the Ladybug miraculous traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news, the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got along even better than their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting smile, she quickly gained the nickname ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

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

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

#maribat-secret-santa-2020

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sapnxps · 3 years

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(WTL) Chapter One: Greg the Neighbor- Georgenotfound x Reader

If I knew that when I moved to London, I'd have two weird neighbors, I'd laugh in your face. Now I'm friends with an old cat lady. Now I'm enemies with my cute neighbor that's definitely not single, who also screams too much.

Even though he's a dick, why can't I stop thinking about him?

My parents told me I’d regret moving to London from the state before I left because I’d miss them and the US too much.

They were half right.

I’m sitting on a box messily labeled ‘kitchen’ in the hallway of my new apartment complex. I huff, wiping the sticky sweat from my forehead. The moving bill is almost 4 thousand dollars. If I knew moving would be this expensive, I wouldn’t have moved out from my parent’s house until I was 40. Sure, I moved a lot of my belongings across the Atlantic ocean, but 4 thousand dollars? Who do I look like, Jeff Bezos?

Today has been hectic, to say the least. Three of my boxes somehow drifted away to Spain. Don’t ask me how that happened, I don’t even know. I’ve been unpacking by myself all day. A box of my kitchenware got shattered upon arrival. I should’ve listened to my Mom on that one, she told me to just buy plates and glasses here instead of shipping them here. Big mistake I’m never making again. Finally, the biggest chunk of my problems: My apartment is full of boxes and I don’t feel like unpacking. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress for two days, maybe not, but I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. If one more thing goes wrong, I think I might lose it.

Begrudgingly, I lift myself up from the box I was sitting on. It’s a bit dented now, but the way it felt on my ass, it’s just pots and pans. I open the door, pulling this box into my apartment. I weakly push it into the kitchen. It collides with one of the boxes filled with shattered plates. The sound of the broken glass sliding across the box sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I need to make a note to properly dispose of that. Turning my head to look around my new home, I feel my brain's short circuit. All these boxes unpacked, I’ve barely made a dent. This is going to take for-fucking-ever. Moving is modern-day torture. Oh, that’s funny. Remember to tweet that later.

The next three hours of my life are taken up by filling up my kitchen cabinets and drawers with cutlery and various kitchen utensils. The counter was now less bare, housing my toaster and breadbox. My Tupperware containers sat in a special place in the far-right cabinet by the sink. It looked like this home was lived in, as long as you didn’t glance anywhere else besides the kitchen.

I soon after tackled the bathroom, which was the less intimidating room compared to the living room and bedroom. I got the shower curtain hung up, which made it look nice. The rug found its way to the floor, protecting my feet from the cold, cream tile. The shelves were now stocked with a few fluffy peach towels and soaps. Underneath the sink had cleaning supplies as well as spare toilet paper. Living alone meant having nobody to give you another roll if you finish the other one. Kinda sucks. I had a boyfriend during high school, and two years into college. I dreamed of living with him, we planned it all out. I’d finish college, we’d move to a city and rent out the tiniest apartment we could find. We’d live it out until eventually we made ends meet and the rest would be. Dreams cut short though, he cheated. It’s part of why I left in the first place. Needed a change of scenery, new people.

That’s where I am now. New people. Stuck on that part. Haven’t gotten a chance to meet any, which is oh so tragic. I can’t decide if I want to introduce myself to the neighbors or let them come to me? I’m stuck pondering on the thought until I hear a knock at the door. I wonder if my lost boxes have mysteriously arrived.

Opening the door, I’m greeted with an older woman, holding out a small cake into my space.

“Hi dear, I’m your neighbor to the right. Heard all the commotion, saw all the boxes. I had to see for myself the fresh meat in the complex,” She paused before lightly tapping my arm with her free hand. “Just teasing! It’s great to have another lady on this level. The young man to your left, handsome fella, never comes out much though. Hopefully, we can have a girl posse or something,” Her posh accent made her much different than me. Is it wrong to already feel isolated?

I grin at her, moving out of the way to invite her in. “Nice to meet you, feel free to come in. I apologize for all the boxes scattered around, moving has been proven to not be quite my talent,”

The woman smiles brightly at me, shock plastered on her face. “You’re American!”

“That I am,” I chuckle. She hands me the cake, which I gladly accept. My diet has consisted of soggy hash browns from the complex lobby. She makes her way to what is settled in the living room, politely setting herself on my suede blue couch across from the large wall in the room. I place the cake on my counter by the stove, making a mental note to grab a slice once the woman leaves.

The shock never leaves her aged face, “Oh goodness! How amazing. I have a foreigner as my neighbor. You’ll find London quite lovely. I know how it feels to be isolated and removed from what you’re used to, but I promise you’ll fit right in,” She says as I settle myself on the loveseat a bit away from the couch.

“Where are you from?” I ask. She obviously isn’t American.

She smiles, “Just a bit east of Surrey. South of London. Beautiful area, grew up on a small cottage,” The woman was glowing as she spoke of her hometown. She was obviously proud of where she grew up. Compared to my southern Arizona town, this place seemed like heaven. A cottage? Sign me up.

“Sounds lovely,” I speak truthfully.

“Welp,” The woman slaps her laps, a way of signaling it’s time to end the conversation. Despite only speaking for a small amount of time, she seems like someone I can come to if I ever have questions about London or the terminology that I hear around the city. I’ll need to remember that she’s the neighbor to the right. As she began to see herself out, I remembered the other neighbor she mentioned. The young man to the left. I believe she used the term ‘handsome fella’ to describe him. Once she was out in the hall, I felt the need to find out more information.

“Oh!” I shout, hanging myself out into the hallway. She pauses her steps, turning back to me. “By the way, who’s my other neighbor? The guy you were telling me about. Does he have a name?” I ask.

“Greg,” She nods, resuming her short walk back to her apartment.

Greg. Ugly name.

I completely forgot about the conversation by dinner time. As I was munching down on my cake, delicious by the way, I heard loud yelling from my right side. I wouldn’t even call it yelling, more like high-pitched screaming. Who was my neighbor over there again? Greg? Greg. He was causing a ruckus and a mere heart attack at that. He was screaming so loud I nearly jumped out of my skin the first time I heard it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s facing a very, very gruesome murder right now. Well, I guess I don’t know any better. I’m just wishing for the very best.

Another hour passes. The yelling never stops. It’s only 8, but my body is as awake as ever. I still have yet to get used to the new time zone. At times it was difficult, but I’m using it to my advantage now. I have some extra time to unpack and get my actual bed ready. My bed frame was put together professionally during lunch, so that was one thing checked off my list. The mattress I ordered was delivered yesterday. Now it was just the matter of putting the sheets on and preparing my duvet.

Fitted sheets fucking suck to put on a bed. I was currently struggling to put it on my nice mattress. It was edging close to 10 pm. The sky was dark, and I was stuck in some odd mixture of a starfish and the downward dog position. If this moment was a picture, it could be used for blackmail. The closer I got to finally getting the top right corner on my bed, the more stretched out I became. I was like one of those sticky hands you’d get in those toy dispensers at the grocery store. I was just about to get it, when another loud shriek could be heard. In shock, I slammed my head on the bed frame and lost grip of all four corners of the sheet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled underneath my breath.

Whatever. He probably has a greater reason to be screaming like this, right? Justified shouting, whatever you want to call it. My bedroom is closer to his apartment than the kitchen was. Is it nosey to try to figure out what he’s saying? I don’t want to be that type of neighbor. I’ll continue minding my business because I don’t want to find out some weird shit about Greg that I don’t want to know.

The screaming never stopped.

In fact, if anything, it got louder. And louder. And louder. Is it okay to call the cops here?

It’s midnight now. The next fucking day. And Greg is still screaming at the top of his lungs as if everyone else isn’t asleep. If I saw some normal citizen just trying to get some rest, I’d be fed up. Well, I’m still fed up. I’m also running on a messed-up sleep schedule, so it’s not like I was trying to sleep anyways. My bed is made now, and comfy as hell. I built a shelf to house some of my small decorations, with the entertainment of my noisy neighbor’s yells to accompany me. For some odd reason, it made me feel less lonely.

At about 2, I began to reject the company. I felt irritation grow in my chest as I heard the same high-pitched shrieks that I heard at 8. The annoyance that bubbled in me overtook my politeness. Before I knew it, I was up and in the hallway banging on his door. I didn’t have the time to care about my Daffy Duck pajamas sticking to my legs due to the heatwave hitting England right now. Before I even realize it, my fist is slamming on his door. I never knew I had the power to knock that hard, but my anger and blossoming resentment overpowered me. I continued banging until the door pulled away from its frame. Now I’m face to face with Greg.

Boy was he handsome.

I was met with a man, about 5 foot 9. His dark brown hair was disheveled. Strands of hair laid across his forehead messily. If he wasn’t screaming, I would’ve thought he was sleeping. He was wearing a fluorescent green hoodie with an odd smile plastered on the front. It was a bit large for his skinny frame, that’s unimportant though. His grey sweatpants were twisted on his legs. What the fuck was he doing? His face was delicately shaped. This jawline looks sharp yet fragile like it was constructed of the most fragile rose crystal I’d ever seen. His brown eyes reminded me of caramel, thick and way too easy to get lost in.

“Hi, uh Greg-” I start. I’m just realizing now how close I am to him. The scent of his spearmint gum floods my nostrils. It’s a bit powerful, crinkling my nose at the smell. It wasn’t gross, just very shocking.

“George,” He spat. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m meeting him for the first time and I got his name wrong. I’m not taken aback for long though, because his attitude oozing from his simple correction was enough to disgust me. I’ve done nothing wrong to him, except maybe get his name wrong. Was my moving too much of a nuisance to him? Poor little British thing, he can deal with it.

I cringe, “Oh, um, sorry.”

He leans into the door frame, sweatshirt adjusting to the movement. Forget a tiny bit large, he was swimming in this thing. “Yeah, no problem. Can I help you or are you selling girl scout cookies at,” George checks his watch. “2 in the morning. If you are, I’m not interested, sorry ‘bout that,” His outfit makes me feel a lot less aware of mine. Despite his face being rather attractive, the outfit makes him look like he just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, yeah. I was wondering if you could lower the volume a bit, please. Or just stop screaming entirely, if possible. I don’t know if you have some weird shouting fetish, but I certainly don’t,” I chuckle. George, however, doesn’t chuckle. Actually, he looks rather unamused. If a human was an art museum, it would be George. Curling into a ball and falling into an endless void doesn’t sound too awful right now. I think I’ll add that to my itinerary. I’ll do it in my bed so I’m at least comfortable while I’m drowning in my own self-pity.

He grimaces, “Yeah. Sure.”

He’s blunt. Got it.

The second I turn my back to the door, it slams. Wow. What a cunt. Shaking the interaction off, I begin to feel the wear and tear of the day beginning to hit me. Moving all those boxes made my muscles ache. The solution to all my problems today seems to be going to bed. Not that I’m not okay with that, just funny. The day before I left for London, you’d think I was shocked by lightning. The electricity that was running through my veins was no match for any ADHD medicine the FDA had ever approved. Now, my body is beginning to fall victim to the earlier time zone. Not that it was a big deal, it was going to happen eventually. These next few days would just entail a difficult sleeping schedule. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

I quickly find my way back to my own bedroom. The yelling was quieter, but I could still hear George through the thin walls. He was murmuring to someone softly. This apartment complex was all 1 bedroom apartments. He didn’t live alone. How lovely! I made a fool of myself to him, and he was most definitely telling his partner right now. Talk about dignity, am I right?

I scrolled through my phone for an hour, before the screaming returned to its original volume. Would it be overdramatic to say I felt my face go red with anger? I don’t think so. I think I handled the situation as politely as I could. Hell, I even cracked a joke so he could know I wasn’t that upset over the situation! If I knew he was going to resume his disruptive noises, I wouldn’t have been so nice or absolutely hilarious. Nobody that douchey gets my amazing humor. He didn’t even laugh! I hear another shout followed by a slam to a desk. What the fuck is wrong with this guy?

Welp. Welcome to London!

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #gnf x reader #dream smp #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #mcyt #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #minecraft #smp #minecraft fanfiction

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pixiebuggiewrites · 4 years

Text

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 2: Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing

Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.

The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.

Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.

Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.

“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”

It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.

“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed

Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.

Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.

The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.

As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.

But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.

“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”

Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.

Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.

Bingo!

Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.

Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.

“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.

From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.

----------

Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.

Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.

And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.

The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.

The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.

Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.

“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”

The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”

The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.

“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”

Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.

The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.

Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.

She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.

Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.

Good thing she wrote the message in code?

----------

Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.

--------------------------------------------

Taglist (open!!):

@queencommonsense

#maribat #daminette #maridami #ml x dc #sorry wrong number #buggiewrites

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tenspontaneite · 4 years

Text

Wish Fulfilment (Chapter 1/?)

Rayla woke up in a tiny body in a tiny bed, blinked, looked at her tiny hands, and said “Right.”

(Time travel; indulgent and light-hearted. Ao3 link)

---

Rayla woke up in a tiny body in a tiny bed, blinked, looked at her tiny hands, and said “Right.”

She spent the next few days taking stock of herself, the time-frame, her living situation, and her own abilities. She was a pipsqueak, lacking the advantages of a decade of training and conditioning, but she’d been a scrappy thing even at this age – climbing trees, making a nuisance of herself, getting hardier and more agile than most bairns did, and so on. She scrambled experimentally about some trees for a while, and assessed her stealth by mud-bombing the townspeople she disliked, and in the end decided that it would do just fine.

Her parents had joined the Dragonguard recently, and judging by her age, Callum must have lost his mother only a month or two ago. She regretted that she couldn’t have stopped that, but, well. Nothing to be done.

She spent a further week stealing supplies, testing herself, and getting ready. The Moon answered her when she called on it, even so close to its darkest phase. Magic answered too, when she begrudgingly tested the spells Callum had bullied her into learning. It would be enough.

She left a note for Ethari and Runaan that read ‘I know you’ll never listen if I tell you not to look for me, so just try not to waste too much time, alright? I’m fine.’ She took a moment to feel disconcerted at her history of leaving notes and disappearing, then added ‘Sorry. Try not to worry. I’ll see if I can send letters or something.’ With that in mind she took a brief detour into Ethari’s workshop and stole a shadowhawk. With that tucked into her pack, she did some last-minute checks of her supplies and headed out.

First on her agenda was heading North-East and breaking up her trail. Runaan would absolutely try to follow her, so she made it as hard for him as she possibly could, laying false trails, disturbing the true ones, and dunking herself in every body of water she could find to break up the chance of the family Moonstrider being able to track her. He’d probably still find his way through the first leg of her journey, but that was okay. She could live with that.

Rayla arrived at the mountainous plains on the edge of Lux Aurea a week later, finding with satisfaction what she’d expected to: vast tracts of farmland, developed for the feeding of the equally vast population of the golden city. It took a further day to find the farm itself, whereupon she broke in, ambushed the residents, and made some very uncompromising demands.

The Sunfire farmers looked so bewildered at having been hogtied and extorted by a baby-faced Moonshadow child that they offered absolutely no resistance except plaintive questions like ‘where are your parents’, or ‘are you okay’, or ‘do you need any help’. In the end Rayla departed with her packs three bags of seeds heavier, and also stole a Sunfin on her way out. She flew on the placid creature for three days due West before running afoul of the Sunfire army.

Rayla spent eight disgruntled hours in the custody of those soldiers, refusing to talk, until they finally left a twin-tailed inferno-tooth tiger to guard her while they went off to send letters to their superiors, trusting the guard-cat’s intelligence and ferocity to be equal to the task of keeping watch on a wee Moonshadow bairn. This turned out to be a mistake.

Within an hour, the animal was eyeing her with interest. Within two, it had drifted close to sniff at her. “What’re you looking at?” She demanded, in her tiny irritable child-voice, and that was when the thing instantly and very plainly took a liking to her. She spent ten minutes grumbling loudly about being sat on by a giant cat, then finally conceded to pragmatism and started using its tail-flames to burn through her ties. They’d only used rope, not wanting to restrain a child too sternly. It was very helpful stupidity on their part.

Rayla escaped on the cat and was only mildly singed by the ordeal. Later, after a day of very enthusiastic pursuit-evasion, she settled down with said cat and eyed it with resignation. “You’re not leaving, are you.” She said. It licked her with a sandpapery tongue almost as big as her entire face, and that was answer enough. She sighed. “Well, it’ll make the journey a lot faster, I suppose.” She decided. “But you’re going to be a pain to hide.”

Unconcerned, it rubbed its face against her insistently enough to push her over. But she’d grown up with a shadowpaw, so she was used to that.

Rayla, who was not good at naming things, named it Cat.

---

Brightly-coloured cats with two flaming tails were not stealthy. They just weren’t. Cheerfully unaware of how inconvenient this was, Cat spent the next two weeks ruining her efforts at stealth by roaring at inconvenient times, following her when she’d told it to stay put, and in general by being constantly on fire. As such she arrived in the Pentarchy and crossed the Weeping Bay with considerably more flair than she’d have preferred, but at least the tails eliminated the need for campfires. It had obviously been used to cook food before, and tolerated the experience very agreeably, if it had also been fed.

On the third week she finally figured out that the thing had been trained with Luçais commands, and muddled her way through her extremely bare vocabulary in the language to finally get Cat to follow basic directions. With the ability to tell it to stay put somewhere while she went off to do something else, things went much better. She disappeared into the mountain range on Cat’s wings, choosing the least-populated route she could manage, and in the end managed to approach Katolis castle with no one the wiser that she was there.

Finding somewhere to leave Cat proved challenging, though. She briefly considered the alcove in the cliff under the castle, but dismissed it on grounds that someone would notice the roaring eventually. Cat was a noisy bastard. Eventually she resigned herself to the fact that she’d just need to relocate it periodically, and left it in a relatively well-concealed ditch with a freshly-killed deer corpse to occupy it.

Rayla waited till nightfall for the first excursion, calling on the Moon to turn her skin to shadows, and stalked down the castle halls, learning it as it was in this time. Learning the guard stations, the patrol patterns, its rhythms and sounds. She was half-way to checking whether Callum still had the right room at this age when she stopped in the middle of the hallway, goosebumps raising up in lines over her arms, feeling a vast and familiar presence passing over her mind. She slumped with relief.

“Ezran.” She murmured, more thankful than words could say. “So you made it back too.”

Being a baby had apparently not agreed with him, because he seemed to lack the control and finesse he’d developed with age. Instead his ability brushed at her in vague sweeps of feeling and intent, saying relief and frustration and this way. She followed his lead to the nursery where he was kept, his guards pressed into sleep by his far-reaching touch.

She looked down at him in his cot, so tiny she wasn’t even sure if he could crawl, and raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, you’re even tinier than I expected.”

“Ee,” he expressed sourly, blinking up at her with eyes that looked too big for his face. Babies were so weird. His hands reached up and made grabby motions at her, so obediently she leaned in and let him slap one baby hand onto her cheek. With the skin contact, it got a lot clearer.

Been here months, he seemed to complain, along with a rush of gratitude/relief/fondness at seeing her. Couldn’t do anything/missed you/been awful.

“How many months?” She asked with interest, and after a little back-and-forth managed to surmise that he’d awakened in his body very shortly after the titan-slaying party had departed for Xadia. She winced, entirely aware of how terrible that must have been for him. “I’m sorry, Ez.”

His little baby face screwed up, as if he was going to start crying. He almost did, but then seemed to summon the will to suppress the infant-body’s powerful instincts before it actually got going. Really sucked, he managed to express, with a little echo of his helplessness and anger. Then, subverbal: an impression of the heavy miasma of grief that had hung over the castle. Harrow crying, Callum crying.

She inhaled sharply. “Callum-“ she couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t make it back? She thought, numbly, and that was as good as saying it, with Ezran touching her.

He blinked wide ice-blue eyes at her. Hasn't yet/getting worried, he said, tangled up in the impression he had that she’d arrived later than him, hadn’t she, so maybe, maybe Callum would join them eventually too. He hoped. But time was passing and he was afraid.

She closed her eyes. Exhaled. “Did Zym make it?” Yes, he had. “Can you talk to him the same? Reach past him?” Talking: yes, but it was hard. Reaching: no. “Okay. We can work with that.” She hesitated, steeling herself, not thinking about Callum. “I’ve got a hotcat a little bit past the castle. Think you can convince it not to make noise?” She asked, half-heartedly.

Ezran blinked again. Then he looked delighted, a wide baby grin spreading across his face. He nearly bowled her over with the wave of enthusiasm and approval for her having made a proper animal friend, and expressed his intention to begin communing with said animal at once.

Rayla nodded a little, still tightly controlling her reaction to the news about Callum, and after a moment reached into the cot to lift Ezran up under his wee chubby baby arms. He made a surprised gurgle at her, then burped contentedly when she hugged him, patting her clumsily on the shoulder. He was so bloody little. It was making her annoyingly emotional. Damn it, Callum, she thought to herself, get back here already so you can look at how tiny your brother is with me.

Ez sighed, patting her with mental impressions of hope and affection and subdued sadness. Then he told her, though not in as many words, that Cat was a terrible name and someone really needed to make fun of her for it.

Rayla huffed and set him back down again. “Shush, you.” She said gruffly, and hesitated. “I’ll…come back to see you tomorrow, alright? Maybe in the day this time.” She had to get an idea of the daytime watch rotations too, after all. She still wasn’t sure what the plan was, but taking someone hostage might well end up being part of it. That would be a lot easier, with Ez on board. A lot of things would be easier.

A little spitefully, to let off steam, she made one final stop before leaving the castle that night: she broke into Viren’s rooms and stole one each of three pairs of his boots. She took these back to Cat and watched it maul the boots in question with a great deal of satisfaction.

Cat did quiet down after whatever Ezran communicated to it, but unfortunately also decided that if it wasn’t going to announce its presence by roaring, it had to do it some other way. This was how Cat ended up spraying the brambles at the edge of the ditch in urine, and incidentally also how Rayla discovered that it was a male. Thereafter the area stank too much for her to linger in, so she had to go off to sleep in a nearby tree, beyond the warmth of Cat’s burning tails. Rayla woke the next morning with a pronounced crick in her neck, grumbled a little, then went back to work.

---

Notes:

So this story exists because I made myself Really Sad about five year old Callum when writing the latest chapter (21) of piaj, and then made myself Even Sadder by promptly writing a future scene where Callum talked about said period of his life to Rayla, and then out of abject desperation I fired up a fresh document and started writing this to comfort myself.

Setting background: canon, but with worldbuilding borrowed from piaj. Future Rayla was somewhere in the region of 18+ years old, unspecified. Circumstances of the future and method of time travel left extremely deliberately vague. I have every intention of playing as fast and loose with this story as I can possibly manage; I already have one exhaustive and meticulous tdp work and I’m not interested in reallocating my brainpower from that to this.

Warning: what plans I have for this story heavily feature piaj worldbuilding that I consider pretty critical to the setting, and also unlikely to come out any time soon. Therefore, it’s pretty guaranteed that I’ll get two or three chapters in to publishing this and then have to keep the rest to myself for the next four years while piaj progresses.

Other details:

Sunfin: a creature I came up with for piaj worldbuilding. It cannot breathe, and uses Sun magic in place of respiratory processes. If kept indoors it will die very quickly. It’s unintelligent and usually lives at high altitudes and will not generally touch the ground in its lifetime, but can be trained for use in farming, where it’s very useful in dispersing large amounts of Stuff (i.e. water, seeds, fertiliser) over a field from the sky. They’re basically crop dusters. Concept and name inspired by the Skyfin from endless legend. Looks somewhat more like a cross between an air shark and manta ray though.

Ezran: future Ezran in this setting was very, very powerful. Less so now that he’s a one year old baby. Rip.

Rayla: future Rayla learned how to use Moonshadow form at most times of the month, and in addition was eventually nagged by Callum into learning some spells. She uses them as part of her stealth repertoire but doesn’t consider herself a mage.

Callum: is baby.

Cat: a twin tailed inferno tooth tiger, highly trained, and in use by the Lux Aurea military as a war mount prior to his desertion in this story. They had a different name for him, but he rather prefers ‘Cat’.

Luçais: piaj worldbuilding; this is the in universe name for the French language as Draconic is the in universe name for Latin. Spoken by many Sunfire elves.

#tdp #tdp fic #rayllum #time travel #tdp rayla #tdp callum #tdp ezran #and so on #read back on my blog to trace the aetiology of this fic

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btswishes · 4 years

Text

She what?

Jungkook x reader

Part1 / ...

A/N: Kookie needs more stories added to his masterlist section, so I am bringing you guys this. Sorry for any mistakes made, hope you like it.

Word count: 2,906

Warnings: Swearing.

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“Y/N! Get up it’s time for school!” your mom’s voice echoed in the house so loudly ,that even the people waiting for you outside heard her.

“I am up!” you mirrored her energy, while running around your room “Ok ok, books, pens, ummm AH! Homework!” you were wearing only one sock on your left leg and over all looked like a mess “I swear I won’t stay up today till 3am, it really fucks me up hard!”

“Y/N!” your mom yelled out again

“I KNOW! FUCK!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY!”

“NOTHING!” throwing the bag on your back, you took a quick glance in the mirror. Fixing up the things that weren’t in order ,you looked presentable enough for school. This wasn’t a fashion show after all.

Your footsteps filled up the house when you said goodbye to your mom and dashed outside. Leaning onto your knees you took deep and sharp breaths, trying to calm down your fight or flight reaction to oversleeping.

“Look who it is.” moving up, your eyes focused onto that familiar beanie, trying to keep in check all those dark and wild curls.

“Whip that look off your face Kook.” Yoongi murmured under his nose “We had to drag your ass out of bed. You ain’t any better than her.” Jungkook reached and pulled you up by your hand

“Don’t look down with this pretty face kitten.” he was smug, knowing oh so well that he was good at flirting.

“Calm yourself hot stuff. Cats also have claws.” you pulled back with a playful wink his way, which pulled out a scoff out of him. With a jump in your step you grabbed Yoongi’s arm and started pulling everyone to school.

A quick stop at your friend Mina’s house and you were on your way again to the 4 wall jail.

“I see Yoongi is lookin disgusted.” she needed only one glance at him to know what happened “Let me guess, Y/N and Jungkook are being flirty earlier than usual.” Mina sighed proceeding to ask the obvious question “Yall seem to like each other, why not just, um i don’t know. Date!”

“Mina, you are misunderstanding.” Jungkook patted her shoulder

“Me and Jungkook are just friends. He is just shitty and stuck up, thinking he is so good at flirting. I am just showing him that those skills are mad trash and won’t work on me.” you turned to look at him “Even if he chocked me!”

“Damn, you don’t have to say your kinks out loud like that sweetie.” Jungkook ran his hand gently through your hair, leaving the sensation of a light tugging “Leave that for when we are alone.”

“EW! I can’t with you two!” Jimin rustled his hair, shaking his head aggressively

“ Ok ok, let’s change the subject.”Namjoon stop the conversation from drifting into a huge mess “Can we stop for a sec? I need to go buy pens.” there was a small store next to the school. Size aside, they were always stocked up with good materials since all the students visited frequently.

While Namjoon was buying writing supplies, Jin pulled you to the side with an alibi of fix your hair.

“Ok what is up with you and Kook lately?” he kept pulling out small clips and all kinds of things, from last night’s 3am glow up attempt

“What do you mean?”

“Lately all this flirting has been a bit...”

“Too direct?” you tried to help Jin out

“Personal.” his voice was serious, the word cutting almost through the air around you “ Are we going to act like Jungkook didn’t bring kinks in a public convo?”

“He is just being the same dork as always.” you laughed out, crossing your arms in front of your chest

“I am not worried about what people are going to think of him for saying stuff like that out loud, he can deal with that himself. I am worried about miss tough bruh girl.” Jin’s lips pressed together as he looked at you. The confidence and macho behavior disappeared from your body “Are you really ok?” he turned around to make sure no one was around you two

“...honestly?” you asked him, receiving a nod “I am dyingggg Jin!”you folded like a piece of paper as the words came out “I know he is just flirting with me to prove his point, but it’s so hard to act unfazed by it. “

“Of course it is. You are head over heels for him.” Jin bluntly spoke when you hushed him, checking around yourself again

“Look. It was fine till a week ago. He became...touchy.”

“Touchy how?” you were trying to avoid Jin’s gaze, while blushing “He um...he has been brushing his hand over me and then saying it was by mistake. He bumped into me a few days ago and got so close he almost kissed me!” your voice was a forced whisper ,as your hyper nature pushed it out from your throat like a whistle

“He what!?” Jin gasped upon hearing all that “Shy Kook did that?” you nodded “He is a flirt, agreed. But he NEVER did anything remotely close to this. Are we 100% sure he doesn’t like you?”

“I am positive Jin. He is doing this to prove his point that any girl falls for him if he gets serious about it. Jungkook is trying to prove me wrong.”

“That is not like him t-” Namjoon’s voice pulled everyone’s attention to himself, exiting the store with a bunch of pens in hand.

“You have like a billion of them.” said Jin

“Yeah, but these are comfortable for exams.” Namjoon was placing them in his school bag, when Hoseok gasped

“Wait, what do you mean for exams?”

“We have 4 exams today.” noticing the confused faces around, Joon facepalmed himself “Yall didn’t really think they were letting us leave 3h earlier just like that, right?” the group synchronized nod was so shocking, that you could hear even Namjoon’s brain facepalm itself “I don’t know what you guys will do, just don’t fail at least.”

“Oh, I knew about the exams.” you rose your hand between the bunch of panicking creatures “Surprisingly my mom found out and made me study my ass off. I am confidant this time.” you took a few steps and stood next to Namjoon “For once i am on team Joon and honestly, I can’t lie, it feels amazing.”

“So what you are saying is that you are actually prepared for all 4 exams!?” Taehyung had to do a double check just in case he heard wrong

“Yup.”

“Better sit next to me before someone asks to cheat off you.”Namjoon said making you giggle. Your head swung in the opposite direction as you felt a strong hand grab the back of your head. Not even in a moment’s notice you came inches from Jungkook. His eyes, sharp and dark, eyeing up and down slowly.

“So this pretty head of yours got the answers?” you couldn’t move, frozen from the shock “Mind if I use some of that knowledge?”

“I- what?” you stuttered in panic.

“Jungkook you better stop acting like a kid and study!” Jin tried to be a hero and pull you by the hand, out of his grasp. Yet Kookie with an aggressive look directed towards his hyung, grabbed his wrist and curved his arm up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” the air was tense, you could hear the silence no matter how weird that sounded. His free hand proceeded to pull you flush against himself, holding you by your waist. His hot touch felt even under the layers of clothes “I can use whatever is mine. Isn’t that right kitty cat?”

“Jungkook don’t be a brat!” Hoseok tried to calm the atmosphere, but was met with the same energy as Jin, when he grabbed your hand. A loud smack pushed him away as Jungkook lifted you of the ground like it was nothing , throwing your body over his shoulder. His serious face changed to a childish smile when he yelled out “MINE!” and dashed towards the school building, only letting you go once you were inside and behind a wall. He was peeking to see if the others were catching up, excited from the whole situation.

His breath was deep and the giggling was coming out of his mouth none stop.

“Did you see the look on their face?” Jungkook turned to you, but you were still frozen from what just happened “Hey, you good?” he lowered himself to your eye level but you averted your gaze, grabbed your bag and dashed to your classroom.

“Y/N...?”

With all the power in your legs you got to your now safe space. The desk felt secure for the first time. As you were catching your breath, Mina caught up to you.

“What the fuck was that!” she threw her bag on the chair next to you, bashing her palms into the wooden board of your table “It was new!”

“Drop it Mina.” you didn’t want to look at her right now, but she was a persistent one

“Nah nah, I am not doing this again. You HAVE to tell me, this isn’t formal.”

“At this point we both need an explanation.” Jin seemed to have calmed down a bit and took a third chair, cornering you with Mina “Come on, you can trust us.”

A moment later you sighed deeply and looked them in the eyes. It was time to get things off your chest. “Kook is going overboard.”

“Yeah, we all saw that.”Mina drew a circle parallel to the floor, in the air “ He has been openly umm nasty.”

“Not to mention weirdly touchy.” Jin nodded as he spoke up “ He might find it fun trying to prove his stupid point, but in the end of the day you like him. It’s effecting you in more than one way.”

“ Jin is right. Acting tough like it doesn’t effect you can’t and won’t last long. What will you do when he gets a gf and stops acting like this towards you?”

“Yes. You like it, of course but that would just crash you princess. I think you should try to move on or at least find someone else to crush over. Sounds hard but...yeah.”

“I know I know.” you grunted placing your face into your hands “It’s a mess, I shouldn’t have challenged him at all. This wouldn’t have happened at all.”

You were frustrated, it felt like a huge mess you made and now had to clean up on your own with only a rag and water. For a moment you forgot about the issue because of the exams. Namjoon and you were confident but not the rest of the gang, luckily Jungkook had one class with you. You were able to avoid him easily with all the running around and revising.

After all the stress was done, you decided to have some lunch with Jin and Mina after everyone else went home for the week. There was a moment of silence.

“Someone gonna say something?” Mina looked at you two stuffing your faces, avoiding the matter at hand “I thought we staid to talk this out.”

“You are right.” Jin sighed placing his box on top of his backpack “ The more we try to ignore it the worse it will get. I know you are frustrated Y/N but we need to do something.”

“Maybe I should really pull back and try to move on like you two said.” the floor was locking your attention in one place.

“Or you don’t except defeat and step on his toes for once in your life.” for a three party conversation you weren’t expecting a fourth person. For a second your heart dropped till you located Taehyung

“Tae!” your body rose from the desk “Please don’t t-” he placed his hand over your mouth. The index finger of his free hand stood in front of his lips as he winked your way. Jumping onto your desk he sat down, crossing his legs widely with his hands now in his pockets

“Relaxxx~, I am not a snitch, plus this smells to me like I can mess a bit with that little brat. His high horse has been fucking annoying all of us, well maybe expect Joon.”

“Your plan is so bad!” Jin rolled his eyes

“Well from what I saw so far all she did was bark back. Come on, don’t you guys see?” he flicked your forehead and leaned back after your ‘ouch’ “ She is all bark no bite. Jungkook sees her as a toy or a little puppy, nothing more. He knows he will break her down at some point.” Tae focused onto you again “Y/N you really need to grab that boy by the hair and show him that you aren’t one to be messed with.”

“On a serious note, I am on Taehyung’s side. Backing up is what he wants you to do. “ Mina clapped her hands excited about the whole plan

“How do I even do that?” you began to panic inside again

“First of all that attitude. Confidence is key.” Jin grabbed your shoulder “ You dress timid, I know this will sound like one of those early 2000s movies with the makeovers.”

“But it is.” you didn’t even need to look up, you just knew. That soft yet manly voice “What?” Jimin leaned onto Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked at you “You didn’t think I wouldn’t sniff this whole thing up, did you?”

“Guess Jimin is up for the part.”Tae fist bumped him “I got the plan already in my head.” he pulled out his phone making a small group chat with all of you in it

“We got this man!” Jimin and Tae were apparently too into the whole situation, while you were almost dripping in cold sweat

“Ok ok.”your hands rose up “Let’s say I agree to all this. What do you want me to do?”

“Man the fuck up!” Jimin hit the table in front of you “ Pull that kid’s leash for once, he thinks he is all strong and stuff. I am so done with him and his disgusting flirting skills lately.I can’t even go to the gym without thinking about him...ugh” a shiver went through his body

“Try to be dominat for once princess.” Jin was being gentle in attempts to calm you down

* knock knock *

The wood sounds creeped into your ears and your heart dropped, when you saw him. Jungkook in all his cocky glory. You panicked and grabbed your bag, trying to get past him in the most natural way possible, but his arm hit the door frame and you were staring at his veiny hand.

“Wow, where do you think you are going?” he sounded more serious than usual “You have been ignoring me all day and then I catch all you guys having a fun looking meeting without me.”

“I am not ignoring you, I just don’t feel that well.” you mumbled under your nose just hoping he would turn back into his old self for a moment and let you go. The day was long, filled with all kinds of emotions you weren’t ready for. You didn’t want him to be one of them. The feelings inside you were starting to bubble, there was no more space to keep them.

“Aw.” Jungkook lifted your chin up with his finger “ I can be your medicine if you want something sweet on your tongue, baby girl.”

“Jungkook!” Jimin threw the chair back, about to start something when Taehyung grabbed his shirt stopping him “...wait...”

“Wasup hyung, why so aggressive ?” the boy leaned onto the door looking high and mighty. Your hand slowly creeped up onto Jungkook’s shoulder. His attention focused onto you once more, when your leg kicked his foot to the side. With a strong grip you pushed onto him, making the boy kneel in front of you. This was the first time he was the one looking up.

With your free hand you swung your hair back, revealing a pissed off gaze that send a chill down Jungkook’s back, in a way he had never experienced before.

“Listen here you little shit.” it sounded like a low growl of frustration “I said I don’t feel good, but you insist on being all macho manly and annoying me. Next time.” you squatted down slowly making him follow you as you came down to eye level “ When I say move, you will be a good little boy and what?”

“...move.” the room was shook by the fact he followed your lead calmly . You eyed his lips making him feel something beep inside his chest, as your index and middle finger gently caressed them

“Louder!” you snapped him out of the trans as you got up suddenly.

“I will move!” he almost yelled out

“Good.” with the bag swung over your shoulder you walked out of the room with a strong step. The moment you were outside the school, you got back to your senses and the situation sunk in. The dash you did towards your house was Olympic level. You had no idea what happened in the classroom, but you didn’t even want to think about it after what you just did.

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daddy-deathslinger · 4 years

Note

If you still need something to write how about pre entity caleb getting to know his s/o and him getting jealous somehow? Sfw or NSFW is your choice Also I hope I did this right I'm new here (:

Hi there! Firstly, I want to apologize for this taking so long to write, I’ve had kind of a creative block lately. Secondly, thank you so much for the suggestion and I hope you will be pleased with the outcome! <3

“Call the Doctor!” - Caleb Quinn/The Deathslinger x Genderneutral Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight gore

The first time you'd come face to face with the infamous leader of the Hellshire gang had not been what one might have expected. Rumors and gossip of the gang and its cruel members had reached your ears as well as the next persons, but you'd never really been one to fear gangs. You had treated many men and women during your time as a field doctor, some outlaws even. And even though alot of people could be very on edge while undergoing operation, you'd never feared for your safety. You had your pistol in your belt, but you've rarely had to use it. So, when you were called to the camp of the Hellshire gang, you weren't too nervous. Infamous or not, you were sure you could handle them. Your patient had turned out to be none other than the leader of the gang, Caleb Quinn. He'd gotten his leg mauled in a fight, and it had been looking pretty darn bad. But with the help of Quinn himself, who turned out to be quite the engineer and inventor, you had put together a leg piece of iron that you'd fastened to his hurt leg. The procedure had been long and painful, and Quinn had sworn he'd tear your arms of plenty of times but you hadn't let it get to you or keep you from performing your best work. You weren't one to be easily scared by outlaws, not even when his friends were watching you dig in his leg and cause him immense pain. You had stayed with the men for a few days, making sure everything worked properly with Quinn's new leg cast, and during that time you could almost have sworn Quinn had gotten easier on you. At first you had thought it had been all the whiskey he'd been drinking to null his pain, but just before you were about to leave them, he'd asked where you lived. You'd responded that you traveled around, but after a bit persuasion and a quite darling looking smile from Quinn, you'd revealed where you were heading next to rest and re stock your supply of medicine.

That led to now. The early morning sun was shining through the curtains, blinding you where you lay in the comfortable bed of the hotel. Next to you, still asleep and snoring, lay none other than Caleb Quinn. You looked over at the man, smiling at his long hair being all in his face and still a bit rough looking after last night's endeavor. The two of you had met up for a drink at the saloon. One drink had turned into ten and next thing you knew you'd found yourself in this bed, straddling Caleb's lap while undressing between greedy kisses. His leg had still hurt a bit, so you'd had to take the lead once things had gotten really hot. You had not minded this one bit, but you'd sensed Caleb not being too happy over being the more submissive part during your love making. You giggled at the memory, planting a small kiss on the sleeping man's nose before getting out from bed. As you got dressed, you heard the bed sheets rustle and turned around to see Caleb wide awake and smiling.

"Mornin' there, sunshine", you chuckled, and Caleb gave you a teasing grin before sitting up in bed.

"Such an early bird, gotta get used to that", he said, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and starting to get up.

You buttoned up your shirt and started gathering your things, and then you finally processed what he had just said.

"Wait..." you turned around again, looking at him getting dressed. "What you mean by that?"

He looked up at you, giving you a small chuckle.

"Don't mind me, still drunk from last night it seems..."

But you wouldn't have any of that.

"No, no, I definitely heard you say something quite interesting", you grinned, moving closer to him with playfully crossed arms. "Mind tellin' me again?"

Caleb chuckled again, shaking his head.

"I was just thinkin'..."

"What?" you urged on, poking him in his stomach so that he let out a yelp and grabbed your hands tightly.

"No need to get rough!" he chuckled, then he pulled you in for a tight hug, meeting your curious eyes. "I was just thinkin', since we're both headin' up North and all... Might need a doctor close by, the boys do tend to get themselves into all kinds of hurts lately."

You met the dark eyes of the leader of the infamous bounty hunter gang, and had to blink a couple of times before being able to speak.

"You... want me to join you?"

You gave him a confused, yet very amused look, and he teasingly squeezed your ass in response.

"I haven't forgotten your excellent work with my poor leg, and how calm you remained during the procedure despite my death treats", he said, his gaze suddenly turning a bit serious. "You're the first person ever not to look at me like I'm a beast, and as strange as it feels to admit it I kind of want someone like that on my team."

"'On your team'", you mimicked, swatting him playfully on the chest.

Before you got to respond to his not so small request, a loud scream was heard from downstairs. You froze, as you recognized the scream as belonging to John, the keeper of the saloon you currently stayed in. In one swift motion you'd released yourself from Caleb's embrace, grabbed your medicine bag and hurried downstairs. As you got down, you were met by John laying on his back behind the bar, grasping for something to help him pull himself up. His right arm was a bloody mess, and you saw a shattered bottle of liquor on the floor next to him.

"Christ, John!" you exclaimed, quickly making your way up to him and kneeling beside him.

"How'd you get into this mess?"

"Fuckin' hell if I know!" John spat, swearing as you got out a pair of pliers and started removing the pieces of glass stuck in his arm. "Must've slipped on somethin', darn bottle fell out from my hand!"

"I got you, just lay still, will ya!" you said while reaching for a bottle of whiskey you kept in your bag for disinfection purposes. "This might sting."

The next second John let out a grunt of pain as you washed his wounds with the alcohol, but he kept still as you worked. You heard footsteps coming downstairs, and figured Caleb had joined you.

"I'll go ahead and put some bandages on the wounds, John, but ya gotta keep that arm steady, alright?" you instructed, and John let out a muttering swear but nodded.

As you started bandaging the arm, John grabbed your knee with his free arm to keep steady. You didn't mind, John and you knew each other well and you had gotten him patched up before. As you finished tying up the bandage around his arm, he let out a stuttering sigh and sat up straight.

"God bless ya, Y/N", he sighed, putting his healthy arm around you and giving you a tight hug. "I'd be a dead man by now if ya wouldn't be here for me!"

You laughed and hugged him back, then helping him get back up on his feet. As you turned around, you saw Caleb studying you with a peculiar look on his face.

"Too much blood for you?" you teased, wiping your bloody hands on your pants and putting back your tools in your bag.

Caleb didn't answer, raising his eyebrows and then turning away. You sensed something was wrong, and as he walked out from the saloon you decided to follow him.

"What's the matter with you all of a sudden?" you asked, walking behind him as he got up to his horse who he had tied outside of the saloon.

You grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around and face you.

"Well? Cat got your tongue?"

Caleb let out a scoff and avoided your gaze.

"Gotta get going, I'm sure you've got your hands full over there", he said and nodded towards the saloon.

You burrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"Well I'll be go-to-hell, what's that supposed to mean?" you exclaimed, only receiving a scoff from Caleb.

He still avoided your gaze stubbornly, and the reality of his mood suddenly dawned on you in a wave of relief and pure amusement.

"Hold on a second here", you said, trying to hide the smile wanting to creep up on your lips. "Caleb Quinn, are you jealous about me treating a patient?"

Caleb tried to look unbothered, but you saw you had hit the right spot. The small, embarrassed smile he tried to hide all the while still avoiding your gaze was a dead giveaway. You started laughing, embracing him in a hug and kissing his lips. You felt him laugh back into the kiss, and when you pulled back from the kiss you saw him smiling that oh so handsome, crooked smile of his.

"You've gotta get used to me treating folks that are hurtin' if I'm to come with you on the road, you know that, right?" you giggled, receiving a quiet smirk and another kiss from Caleb.

"Still drunk", he chuckled, receiving a scoff from you this turn.

"And you gotta work on your lying", you said, squeezing him tightly in a warm hug that he happily mirrored.

#dead by daylight #caleb quinn #the deathslinger #caleb quinn x reader #deathslinger x reader #dbd fanfic

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