#hopefully this ask hits two birds with one stone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ravagedarkness · 2 years

Text

Spider-Man: Home Rebuilt, Chapter 8: The List

We spent the rest of the day playing video games, talking, and watching movies. By the time we got done watching the last movie – The Witch: Part 1. The Subversion – it was pretty late. Scott walked in. After introducing himself to my friends, he urged us to stay the night. A few phone calls to parents later, everyone was situated. Ned and I took Craig’s room while he made his way out to work his radio job. Meanwhile, MJ and Betty were sleeping in Kitty’s room. The spare room was left untouched. Kitty said that it was too dusty for guests at the moment, but I knew it was because that’s where they had my stuff stored – specifically, my Spider-Man gear.

The next morning, we all got up and found Craig sleeping on the couch. After we waked him up, we all made breakfast. At the urging of Craig, Scott did the whole “blast the middle of the coin” trick to demonstrate his powers. Once breakfast was done and we all ate, MJ, Ned, and Betty said their goodbyes, but not before they got the phone numbers of Kitty, Craig, and Scott.

Once they were out, Kitty closed the door behind them, turned around, and looked at me. “Okay, Peter, we got to talk,” she said. “But before that, I need to make sure – are you okay?”

“From the dart?” I inquired from my spot. After Kitty nodded, I nodded back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been okay since yesterday.”

“Good. So, next question – what’s the next step?”

“What do you mean?”

“What she wants to know is what we are going to do next after that incident,” Craig answered from the kitchen. He walked over with two bottles of water in his hands. He handed one to Scott, who was seated on the recliner. “That whole situation was a set up.”

“You think so?” I asked. Craig walked over and sat on the sofa as Kitty took a seat next to me.

“From what Craig and Kitty told me, it seems so,” Scott stated. He twisted the cap off of his bottle before he took a sip. “Don’t get me wrong. You are Spider-Man, and Kitty and Craig are extremely capable. But even the three of you should have had more trouble taking all of those people on. Add to the fact that you were the only one darted, I’m thinking you were targeted.”

“What else is new?” I said bitterly. “But the question is who is it this time?”

“I don’t know,” Kitty said with a shrug. “We became friends not too long ago – not long enough to know who are the Jokers and Riddlers in your life.”

“I can talk to a few people in Harlem,” Craig offered. “Anything that went down in Manhattan, they’re likely to know about it.” He then touched his hair. “I gotta swing by Pop’s Barber Shop anyway. I’m due for a cut. I might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“You do that,” Scott said. “We still have the dart, so I’m going to take it to an old friend of mine. Hopefully he can find what was in it.” He then looked at Kitty. “And you… it’d be pretty convenient if certain police reports were acquired by us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it would,” Kitty said slyly. “It’d be pretty convenient if we got it this afternoon.”

“Guys,” I spoke up. “Look, I appreciate that you guys want to help but…”

“Peter,” Craig cut in with a solemn tone. “I swear, if you say ‘I can handle this myself’, ‘I don’t want to get you guys hurt’, or the like, I’m going to hit you upside the head with this bottle.” I kept quiet. Somehow, I knew he was serious. “We’re helping you on this. This is in our wheelhouse. And had we not been there with you yesterday, you probably would have got scooped up and taken somewhere. So, sorry bro, but consider yourself a part of our group now. Wish I could say you get medical and dental benefits, because something tells me you’ll need it.”

“…” I wanted to retort. I really did. But he was right. So, instead I scoffed. “So do we have a team name or something?”

“We used to be called The X-Men,” Kitty said. “But that changed.”

“Why?”

“The Blip and The Sokovia Accords,” Craig replied. “There’s more to it, but those are the main bullet points.”

“Speaking of bullet points, there’s one more thing I want to talk to you about.” Kitty stood up. “But I’ll have to tell you that on the road. I got somewhere to be. So, grab your stuff. I’ll drop you off home.”

It took me a little bit of time to get dressed and gather my stuff. After that, I was out on the road, riding shotgun in Kitty’s Acura TSX. The car ride was quiet for a bit, with the sound of Kitty’s GPS breaking the silence every now and again. After a while, she finally spoke up.

“What are you going to do about your friends?” she asked.

I was looking out of the window when she asked that. “What do you mean?” I replied.

“I mean, are you going to tell them, or are you going to keep them at arm’s length?”

I sighed as I turned my head towards her. “I don’t know. I wasn’t even supposed to get close to them again.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You know how Scott is my GED teacher?” Kitty brought her car to a stop behind a car at a red light.

“Yeah,” Kitty replied. “I have to have to admit, it’s quite the coincidence that he happens to be teaching Spider-Man.”

I let loose a short chuckle. “Coincidences are a huge part of my life,” I said only semi-sarcastically. “Anyway, one day, I came to class super early, and he just knew I had something on my mind.”

At that, Kitty chuckled. “Sounds like Scott, alright.”

I smiled briefly. “Yeah. So… ever since The Spell, I thought I would be okay with my decision as long as I knew that MJ and Ned were okay. But every single time I walk out that coffee shop, I keep on second guessing myself on if I made the right decision. And I… kind of talked to Scott about it one day when I was super early to class, avoiding a lot of details.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He told me he was in a situation where he cut himself off from people he was close to and found out he was hurting himself as much as he was hurting others.” I looked forward through the windshield. “Also, he told me that, even though Hindsight is 20/20, it’ll still take a while to understand if I made the right decision.”

“I see.”

I looked at her. “…Do you think I made the right decision?”

“No, I don’t think you made the right decision,” she replied bluntly. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think it’d be fair for me to do so – I wasn’t in your shoes. But since you asked… when you told us everything, I kept thinking to myself ‘Wow… this boy just keeps on messing up’. Honestly, you handled that whole situation badly from the start.”

“What else should have I done then?”

“You don’t want me to answer that, Peter,” Kitty warned. The light turned green, and Kitty gently accelerated. “The only thing that is going to happen is you feeling even worse about something you can’t change. But here is what I can tell you. See, Scott has a thing for imparting knowledge on people, as you know. As you probably guessed he’s been through a lot. And, there was something he told me that I, in turn, have told Craig when he was in a similar situation.”

“And that is?”

“Unless you were the one who put them in a situation that forced their hand, you can’t hold yourself responsible for other people’s decisions.”

“But I did put them in that position,” I said. “I let them in.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Kitty agreed. “You LET them in. You didn’t force them in. You didn’t force them to stay. You opened up to them and showed them what your life is like. They could have distanced themselves from you and decide they didn’t want to be a part of any of that, but they didn’t. They decided that being close to you was worth it. And as for Betty… well… I don’t know, since you guys were only kind of friends before, but you said she was still in your corner, so there’s that.”

I went quiet for a bit, digesting what she said. And what she said made sense. It made so much sense that the part of me that wanted to keep my distance couldn’t even come up with an excuse.

“So what should I do?” I asked quietly.

Kitty pulled off to the side of the road, right in front of my building. After putting the car in park, she turned in her seat towards me. She gave me a gentle smile. “Well, that’s for you to decide. Now, I still don’t know everything about you. But that story of The Spell told me a lot. When you were telling us that story, I could feel the sadness and hurt in you when you talked about your friends, especially when you had to make them forget and you saw them being happy afterwards. And then when you hung out with them and I could see how joyous you were.” Her smile widened a bit. “Especially when you were in the kitchen with MJ.” I shook my head in annoyance, though I still blushed. “Now, whatever you do with that is up to you, but me personally? I wouldn’t let my life as a hero be the reason I don’t maintain and cherish relationships with people I hold dear.”

I looked at her for a moment. I then scoffed and shook my head. “…You remind me of Aunt May.”

“I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years,” Kitty chuckled out. “If any info comes up regarding yesterday, we’ll let you know. Now get out of here and get some rest. And I mean a full rest. I better not hear about Spider-Man getting involved in any trouble today. Anything goes down, let Craig and I handle it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. See you later.”

“Likewise.”

I picked up my bag from the floor before I opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. I closed the door behind before I waved at Kitty. As Kitty waved and drove off, I watched her leave. I then turned my head as a black SUV drove by in the opposite direction. It was a Hummer EV. But what really got my attention was the logo.

“Hammer Industries,” I muttered to myself. I raised my eyebrows briefly as I turned to the front door of the building. “I forgot that company was still around.”

Once I was in my apartment, I looked at the space I was in. I shook my head.

This apartment was pitiful.

I walked over to my bed, dropping my bag as I did so. I then dropped onto my bed and rolled over onto my back. I looked up at the ceiling for a few moments. I was thinking about what Kitty said. And I wished she didn’t make so much sense. Inside of my head, memories of the events leading up to The Spell clashed against Kitty’s words, with Scott’s words backing the latter up. And for the first time, the memories were losing. And I knew why.

I wanted my friends back.

I closed my eyes, just wanting to give my mind a rest for a little bit. I then felt my phone vibrate. I sighed as I reached into my pocket and pulled out the phone. Seeing that I got a message, I checked it.

“Betty Brant added Kitty Pryde and Craig Pierre, Jr. the group.”

I couldn’t help scoff. Of course she did.

“Hey guys,” I typed into group chat.

“American Idiots… what is this?” Craig messaged.

“Good question,” Kitty added.

“It’s a group chat for the six of us,” Betty messaged. “It was four until I added you guys. I figured the name was clever.”

“Why would it be clever?” Craig asked. A few moments later, he sent another text. “Oh… Wow. Just, wow!”

“That is clever,” Kitty remarked.

“Just a warning. Betty is going to act like a mother to you guys. >.>”

“Oh haha MJ,” Betty sarcastically wrote.

“She only does it because she cares,” Ned wrote in her defense.

“Don’t worry, Kitty is the same way,” Craig replied.

“I like to take care of my friends. Sue me,” Kitty wrote.

“Anywho.” Betty wrote. “I added you guys because they’re doing a makeup showing of American Idiot on Friday and I think it’d be great for all of us to come. Hopefully, we can make it through the whole show without gunfire.”

“Your lips, God’s ears,” Craig replied.

“Also, Peter, I got you that interview. I hope Wednesday at 9 A.M. isn’t a bad time for you.”

“No, it’s not,” I replied. “What do I need?”

“A clean set of business clothes and a portfolio.”

“And for you not to get shot along the way,” Ned added.

“Oh, wow.”

“Oh snap!” Craig reacted.

“That’s my line, Ned!” MJ added.

“You walked right to that one, lol,” Kitty wrote.

“Screw you guys!” I texted. But I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Ned got me good.

After the shenanigans died down, I put the phone down and closed my eyes. I napped for a few hours before I woke up in time to make lunch. After I stretched and gout up from my bed, I looked over at my desk. That list was still there from yesterday morning, along with the pen. I walked over to the desk and looked down at the list. I read each item.

1. Make sure MJ and Ned are okay.

2. Get close to them again (including Betty as well, since we’re even friendlier now).

3. Decide on whether or not to tell them the truth.

4. Figure out how to do so… and prepare for the consequences.

I looked over the list a few times. I then picked up the pen and took the cap off of it. I drew a line through the first two items on the list. Item number three was staring right back at me. I wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. But Scott and Kitty’s words were still in my head, still fighting off every reason I had to keep MJ and Ned at arms’ length.

I chuckled as I capped the pen and set it down. After I talked to MJ right after The Spell, I was bent on just being alone and staying aloof to everyone. And yet, in the span of a week, I ended up befriending MJ, Ned, and Betty again while striking up new friendships with two random people I met in a theatre and my GED teacher. Add to the fact that I’m apparently a part of a hero team now – whatever Scott, Craig, and Kitty call themselves – and that idea just went out the window. While I wasn’t ready to have the talk with MJ, Ned, and Betty yet, I given up on not having friends.

Though, as far as failed missions went, maybe that was an opposite of something to be worked up over.

#fanfic #spideychelle #spider-man #mcu #peter parker #michelle mj jones #ned leeds #betty brant #scott summers #kitty pryde #carmilla black #original character #jade cargill #petermj #mj peter #michelle jones #mj x peter #Mj #tomdaya

2 notes · View notes

protags-fic-blog · 10 months

Text

So. Not only was yesterday my 1-year anniversary of this blog, but I also hit 1k likes for this blog!! Two birds with one (mile)stone. I think, to celebrate, I’ll be queueing up some things that have been in the works for a while. Expect some never-seen-before content that has stayed in my vault, some revisits of old content, an update to my masterlist, and some memes. I’ll hopefully also get to that ask in my inbox. (haven’t forgot about you! Just been low on ideas and free time)

So yeah!! Happy one year!

#1 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #protag rambles

0 notes

avintagekiss24 · 3 years

Text

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

#bad things happen bingo #buckybarnesbingo2021 #ssb2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #5k...holy god

2K notes · View notes

thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

Icarus( did I spell that right? ) my beloved does you have any yandere c! Technoblade and philza with a shy reader stories? 👀

Feel free to take as long as you like I'm in no rush hopefully you don't mind me requesting alot if it's a problem then I will stop requesting as much as I do

Agian I love your writing have a lovely day or evening my beloved(platonic!!)

Darling Mooshroom, I adore you so much (platonically). You have my full permission to fill my inbox with any and all requests that come to mind. I love the ideas you give me and you're the only one who has requested more than once (other than anons but I can't tell with them.)

Also. Philza Philza Philza I FINALLY GET TO WRITE FOR THIS MANS WOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry ignore me. Unfortunately, this story will be shorter than my normal ones because I used up the majority of my brainpower on other stories and I feel bad for keeping you waiting <3 (plat)

(Techno is not part of sleepy bois in this story. Instead, Techno and Philza are ancient gods and set more in like Ancient Egyptian times?? Really low key Yandere in this story)

TW: Yandere, mentions of a creep, getting robbed

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Was it your appearance? Or your shy personality? Perhaps it was the various amounts of golden chains and jewels sprinkled strategically all over your person...

Crows and Piglins were naturally attracted to gold, so that's how Techno justified himself, but Philza wasn't stupid, he's been through this many times before. He knew what being in love was.

But they had never felt so... Strongly towards a mortal before.

The God of Blood and War continued trying to deny his feelings for you, but he always found himself watching you shuffle around the Ancient DreamSMP, curled in on yourself as you walked to and from shrines for the gods that you had made.

Philza, the God of Survival and Crows, leaned over a bowl of ink and water and stared into the swirling designs, watching as it shifted into a picture. He saw a lovely figure kneeling at the base of a statue, placing a bowl of fresh bread and cakes, before lighting some incense and standing up, their head dipped in silent prayer.

The winged god chuckled softly and adjusted his large hat before cupping his hands together in a bowl shape. Slowly, with very minor concentration, a golden chain appeared with an emerald heart shape dangling off of it. With a small but sharp whistle, a black crow swooped in through the window and perched itself on his arm, "Yes Dadza?" It chirped telepathically, tilting its head curiously.

"Hello, my child. I would like you to place this on the young mortal's doorstep. I trust you will be able to find it?" He smiled softly and held out the piece of jewellery to the feathered creature who picked it up in its beak.

"Sure, Dadza!" The bird gave a squawk before hopping over to the bowl of ink and water to study the appearance of the mortal. "Oh! It's (Y/n) again! Didn't Technoblade recently cause a man to meet his end because he was rude to them?"

The man sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand, "Yes, Techno is brash like that... I should speak to him about that after... Now, be on your way. I would like them to receive the gift before they start putting their faith in other gods." With another telepathic chirp, the bird quickly took flight and headed out the window. Once his beloved crow, Chat, was gone, he leaned over the bowl again.

The mortal was now praying to Technoblade's shrine, after giving an offering of beer and herbs with the incense now re-lit. Phil decided to disperse the image with a wave of his hand, beginning to make his way to his old friend, the God of War and Blood.

With a flurry of black feathers, Philza landed on the balcony Techno had designed specifically for him and closed his wings neatly behind him, "Techno?" He called, walking through the red curtains into the room of the God. When his emerald-coloured eyes landed on the tall man, he discovered that he was hunched over a large bronze dish like he had been moments ago.

"Yeah, I'm here." The pink-haired male sighed, adjusting his glasses before pushing his long hair out of his face as he looked up from the bowl. "What do you need, Phil?"

"I'm here to discuss (Y/n). That mortal we are both smitten with?" He watched as the god's cheeks visibly turned pink despite his tough demeanour, causing Philza to chuckle into his hand, "Relax. It's obvious. And I know how you had one of your followers beheaded that poor fisherman."

"Millionaires. Not followers." Techno retorted with a scoff as he stepped away from the bowl filled with likely water and ink. "In my defence he deserved it. He should've known better and held his tongue when being in the presents of one of my worshipers."

Phil wasn't able to hold back his sigh, "Millionaires? Good grief Techno, you're just making up words at this point. Besides, that's not the main reason I flew out here," The Survival God's eyes suddenly darkened, catching Techno off guard but nonetheless made him happy, "I heard... That (Y/n) has been getting threats from the village of L'Manberg."

Techno frowned at the thought of anything happening to their favourite mortal. The images that appeared in his mind caused the voices in his head to roar in anger, demanding for human blood to be spilt across his shrines.

"Yeah. I suggest we put a stop to it. But, I do want to meet our little mortal..." Philza smirked a bit, raising his hand in an attempt to stop Techno from seeing how violent his thoughts were becoming towards the humans.

You couldn't help but smile as you saw the new jewellery that had been placed at your doorstep, scooping it up into your hands and taking a moment to put the necklace and solid gold armband on. You were quite aware that the vast amounts of jewellery covering your body made you a target for thieves, but you trusted in your gods to keep you safe.

On your eighteenth birthday, your village had dressed you up and offered you to the gods in exchange for safety and a good harvest, chaining you in the middle of the dessert on a stone platform. You would have perished from starvation had a black crow not have carried a basket filled with the ripest and fresh fruits you had ever had. That's when you knew that Philza was watching over you.

Technoblade had started watching over you not long after that. On a trip into the village for yeast to make bread to offer Philza, a creep had cornered you in an alleyway. He began making disgusting remarks towards you, but a man with glowing gold eyes and red sclera came up and pummeled him into the ground before completely vanishing. It had been a high priest of Technoblade's Syndicate temple who told you that it was the God of Blood and War who saved you.

"Look," Techno whispered under his breath as he saw you standing in your doorway with a soft smile. Philza peaked around the corner as well, watching you attach the jewellery to your (s/t) skin with a smile of his own, "I take it the necklace is from you?" The tusked male asked as he pulled the hood on his cheap commoner clothing up to cover his noticeable pink hair.

Phil did the same, trying to hide his inhumane blue eyes from view, while also trying to shoo away Chat who was relentlessly teasing the two of them, "Sh! Chat, it's not like- No. Shut. WHat?! I'm not being a creep!" He hissed to the blackbird, trying to bat it away with his free hand, while Techno was snickering to himself, "Wait, no! This is my bread, (Y/n) made it for me! Get your own!"

After watching his old friend get bullied by Chat for a few minutes, he turned back to watch you walk back out of your home, holding the cup of beer you had placed at his shrine earlier today. Your offerings were always his favourite... He would burn this entire village down if they tried to chain you into the desert again... Actually.. That was a good idea...

The two gods silently followed behind you, watching you nervously try your best to avoid social conversation, but they noticed how the other mortals seemed to look down upon you for wearing so much golden jewellery.

"H-he-hello..." You murmured out meekly as you approached the man selling fruits and different herbs. Leaning forward, you carefully inspected the cranberries and cinnamon specifically, knowing that they were Philza's and Technoblade's favourite offerings.

You heard footsteps walking behind you, but because the market was busier than normal today, you decided to brush it off. Until you felt someone gently grab the golden jewellery dangling from your ears, giving it a light pull, "Solid gold, ey? Aren't you a poor little peasant?" A voice male voice cooed softly in your ear, causing you to spin around quickly, backing up until you hit the table that all the fruit and herbs were placed on.

Dream. The high priest of DreamXD's temple. The God of Control and Manipulation. This man truly believed he was the walking incarnate of the god himself, and even named himself after the god! Truly a maniac...

"Dream..." You murmured softly, your body trembling and flinching away from his touch, "I-I'm not giving them to you for you to offer up to your twisted god... I worship Technoblade and Philza... No one else."

The masked man growled in annoyance before he snapped his fingers and two men in masks grabbed onto your shoulders before beginning to tear the golden jewellery off of your body. Snapping the golden chains off from around your neck and wrists, pulling the earrings out of your ears and the golden bands from around your biceps. The entire time you yelped and begged for them to leave the gifts you had received from your gods alone, everyone else around you putting their heads down and averting their eyes, pretending not to see you.

A flurry of black feathers clouded your vision and you heard three hard thuds before a loud barking voice echoed through your ears.

"How DARE you!"

"Techno! Help me burn this damned village to the ground!"

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #techno dream smp #mcyt au #dsmp

2K notes · View notes

oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

942 notes · View notes

arvandus · 3 years

Note

So hopefully I got in on time! Btw, I’ve been absolutely loving your HC’s, the stutter one was friggin adorable! I love soft Dabi, there’s not much of him out there in stories 😢

Anyway! I was wondering if you could do HC’s with Dabi for someone who may be deaf or just hard of hearing? Ifff your comfortable, I would love to see what he would do for a male s/o (or platonic friend/league member, etc, whichever you choose!) If you don’t want to do this it’s completely fine and you can switch it to ambiguous/female (I don’t know if you have ever done men before haha!)

Hello! I’m so flattered for this ask because you’re trusting me to portray something that’s personal to you and outside of my own experience. I can absolutely do this with a Male Reader (my first one!).

I’m not sure what type or level of hearing loss you had in mind, so I did my best with this and went with an acquired hearing loss that’s moderate-to-severe. Also, I wrote Reader as someone who wears hearing aids. I hope that’s all right, since that’s typically the case for those with more severe hearing loss (otherwise communication is really difficult to do, since I don’t suspect Dabi would know sign language). Also, I got a couple of cute ideas that I really wanted to fit into this that follow more of a friends-to-lovers sort of vibe rather than established relationship. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! 

Headcanons for Dabi x M!Reader who’s Deaf/Hard of Hearing (HOH)

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1240

💙 When you first join the LOV, Dabi will be skeptical at first, as he is with all things. How could someone with a hearing loss really be of any value to the league? He can’t help but wonder what skills you’re bringing to the table to that convinced Shigaraki to allow you to join.

💙 Dabi doesn’t interact with you right away... he prefers to observe. Part of it is that he doesn’t care for attachments, even amongst his comrades. Another is that he doesn’t expect you to last very long in the League. If he does interact, it’ll be through snarky quips and insults. After all, he loves getting under other people’s skin... it makes him feel like has an advantage.

💙 So, it goes without saying that Dabi will be a hard nut to crack at first. He’ll definitely have some crappy preconceived notions about people with hearing loss that he’ll get to face as he’s forced to get to know you.

💙 For example, he learns super fast that your hearing has little to do with your intelligence. You’re fucking smart and more than capable of handling yourself, much to his surprise. You quickly become an important member of the team, and even Dabi can’t really argue your value. It only makes his interest in you grow, his skepticism giving way to curiosity.

💙 Another thing he learns about you... you value your independence and hate when others coddle or dote on you due to your hearing loss. The first time Toga had tried to treat you as something fragile (granted she was trying to be nice), you’d quickly put her in her place. Dabi couldn’t help but grin at that exchange...

💙 The great thing about Dabi sitting back and observing everyone else most of the time is that he gets to learn by proxy how to interact with you.

💙 Don’t mumble or talk too fast. Don’t look away when talking to you. Talk more clearly, and slower, but for God’s sake, don’t treat you like you’re dumb. You’re hard of hearing, not stupid.

💙 Even with all of that taken into consideration though, he’ll notice that while you seem to do fine in one-on-one exchanges in quiet environment, you’ll withdraw more in group gatherings. Is the chattering of multiple voices too much? Is the noise overwhelming? Even he can’t always tolerate the prattling of the social butterflies of the group, so he wouldn’t blame you if it got under your skin too.

💙 His interest will finally be piqued when he watches you retreat during a rather boisterously loud game night amongst the League. He’ll follow quietly behind you, watching as you pass your own room in favor of the stairwell leading up to the rooftop.

💙 You don’t notice he’s followed you until he sits next to you. Your eyes betray your surprised at his presence.

💙 “What are you doing here?” you demand.

💙 He’ll give you a grin and a cock of his head. “You didn’t seem like you were havin’ much fun back there. Got anything to do with these?” he’ll tap your hearing aid playfully.

💙 You huff at him. “If you want me to hear you better, you’ll need to sit on my other side. My hearing aid battery died.”

💙 “You don’t have a backup?” he asks as he adjusts his position.

💙 You shake your head.

💙 “Doesn’t sound too bad.” He’ll tease. “I wish I could turn off my ears, especially when Toga laughs.”

💙 You give him a glare at his insensitive comment. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

💙 He raises an eyebrow at you and think for a moment, before looking back out over the cityscape. “Why don’tcha tell me about it then.”

💙 You give him a skeptical look but he waits silently for you to continue. His smirk is gone as his sharp eyes glance back at you. He's serious.

💙 You’ll finally open up to him, explaining how hard it can be sometimes. How noisy environments can make your hearing aids nearly useless when the noise is too much, when everyone is talking at once. How frustrating it is to not be able to follow a conversation let alone participate, and how it can sometimes make people assume things about you. At best, they’ll assume you can hear fine with your hearing aids and therefore assume you’re being aloof or don’t want to interact. At worst, they’ll think your slow or stupid, and look at you with pity.

💙 Dabi will listen, but he won’t offer much up except sarcastic remarks about the others in an attempt to make you feel better. After all, sympathy isn’t his strong suit. But you’ll find yourself feeling better by the end, just grateful to be able to vent to someone.

💙 When you smile at him and tell him thanks for listening, it’ll take him by surprise. Not because of your reaction – he expected that, at least. What’ll surprise him is his reaction to it – a strange sense of satisfaction will wash over him, filling him with an unfamiliar warmth. He realizes - a moment too late, before he can bring down his barriers - that he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s at him.

💙 You’ll feel slightly closer after that, finding more opportunities to hang out on the quiet rooftop and chat.

💙 He’ll surprise you on your next visit with a brand-new pack of hearing aid batteries. You’ll give him a suspicious look, asking where he got them and how he knew what kind to get you, but he’ll give you a wicked grin and brush off your question with an evasive comment.

💙 It won’t take long for you to start developing a crush on him, and against your better judgment, you find yourself staring at him a lot more and finding ways to be around him more. Hanging out at the bar, going on missions together, sitting next to him during the LOV discussions… you try to brush it off as ‘becoming friends,’ but deep down you know better.

💙 It doesn’t take long for Dabi to take notice and begin to suspect that maybe… just maybe… all of your secret glances and increased attention aren’t strictly platonic.

💙 What a wonderful turn of events. He wasn’t sure if you were interested in men, but now he’s 99% sure you are... or at the very least, interested in him.

💙 It leaves his skin feeling hotter than usual, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement. He wonders if you know... or even suspect... that he watches you too in mutual attraction.

💙 He’ll start testing the waters, just to make sure, of course. Hit you with a few flirty nicknames to see how you react. As soon as he sees you fluster and flounder in obvious embarrassment, he’ll know he’s got you, and it makes your exchanges only that much more entertaining.

💙 The more he learns about you, the more interested he becomes. He’ll start to do research on ways to support you with your hearing loss. It’ll be purely out of curiosity, of course... it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way or anything. But he ends up finding himself down the rabbit hole of hearing aid supports, and learns about Bluetooth capabilities, FM systems, infrared systems... ways to send targeted noise – like speech for instance – straight to your hearing aids, bypassing any pesky background noise.

💙 It won’t take long for him to get an idea – two birds with one stone, so to speak...

💙 You’ll be on the rooftop together, when he says, “I gotta surprise for ya.”

💙 He pulls out a box that’s labelled ‘Dynamic FM System.’

💙 If you try to reach for it though, he’ll hold it out of your reach. “ah ah ah... we gotta find the right place to try it out.”

💙 He’ll lead you downstairs and you’ll think he’s heading to the common space where the others are, but instead he takes you outside of the hideout, leading you down the street.

💙 “Where are we going?”

💙 “You’ll see.”

💙 The two of you will end up outside of a bar. Not just any bar, though… the line of patrons is already a huge hint of what you’ll find inside.

💙 “Wait isn’t this….?” You’ll start.

💙 Dabi will only smirk at you though, before he grabs your hand and leads you in.

💙 Inside will be loud. So loud you have to turn down the volume on your hearing aids, and too loud for you to hear anything of value. But as you look around, your suspicions are confirmed - instead of the usual opposite sexes pairing up like you find at most bars, this one is different. Men are pairing up with men, women are pairing up with women. Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, your pulse racing with excitement. Of all the places for Dabi to bring you…

💙 You keep close to Dabi, holding onto his arm. He loves that, loves that you’re looking to him for protection. And protect you he does, his eyes threatening violence to anyone who stares too long at you.

💙 He’ll sit you down at the bar with him in the center of the noise while drunken gay couples flirt over their drinks and a group of girls laugh in the corner. He’ll say something to the bartender, and a minute later, two fresh drinks are place before the two of you.

💙 He won’t try to talk to you yet as he opens the box and begins taking out all of the pieces. He’ll plug in the small, cylinder-like component into your hearing aid - the receiver. He’ll be completely up in your space when he does it too, grinning at you with his ocean blue eyes. In his hand he holds the transmitter that contains a button with a microphone on it.

💙 Once everything is hooked up properly, he’ll speak into the mic, his finger on the button.

💙 “Hey there.” He says. His voice comes through crystal clear.

💙 “Hey.” You smile.

💙 Once Dabi knows you can hear him, his devilish grin will widen and he’ll lean casually against the bar counter as he stares at you, his eyes drinking you in. “Have I ever told you how hot you are?”

💙 That’s when it finally clicks… Dabi is actually interested in you. And he’s taken you out on a date.

💙 BONUS: If the bar scene ends up being too much for you, he’ll be more than happy to spend the rest of your date on your favorite rooftop spot with some take-out. 10/10 will kiss you by the end of the date.

#Arv's 750 Followers Event #dabi #dabi hcs #dabi x male reader #dabi x m!reader #dabi x reader #deaf #hard of hearing

266 notes · View notes

iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

Bird Set Free | Ben Florian x Male Reader

Fandom: Descendants Pairing: Ben Florian x Male Reader Summary: A jealous Audrey comes after Ben’s boyfriend.

A/N: Another co write with my amazingly talented friend @inhumanshadows. If you haven’t checked them out what are you waiting for!? …

Ben had caught your eye the moment you stepped out of the limbo from the isle.

You were one of the first vk's to arrive in Auradon.

At the time Ben was dating Audrey so you didn't think you had any chance.

That changed after the big turney game when he asked you privately if you wanted to go on a date with him.

That shocked you first off because he was a prince/future king and you were a villain kid.

Secondly you were a guy. You hadn't expected Ben to be into guys.

You said yes of course. Who wouldn't want to go on a date with Ben.

The date went great and you enjoyed it.

During the whole coronation debacle, you helped Mal and them stop Maleficent.

Once everyone was unfrozen, Ben pulled you into a kiss in front of everyone.

That was a surprise to everyone, but who was going to challenge the king and his boyfriend who just stopped maleficent? No one that's who.

While Adam was shocked he wasn't disappointed and Belle was really supportive of you two.

Ben's parents were your biggest supporters. "Love is love."

While the kingdom had accepted you two relatively easy, one person did not. Audrey.

You had a feeling Audrey wouldn’t like it.

But you figured she wouldn’t be too mad for long.

At least that’s how it seemed. Especially when she left school for a little “wellness retreat.”

Then the mess with Uma happened.

You knew she spelled Ben and that any actions he made weren’t consciously his own.

The entire cotillion was...intense.

You didn't let Uma use Ben any more than she had.

You quickly pulled Ben in for a kiss and pressed your lips to his.

There was a spark and energy there that you felt every time you kissed.

Pulling back, Ben smiled at you and you could tell it had worked. He wasn't spelled anymore.

Uma and Mal then got into a fight over her spell book.

After everything settled down the two of you enjoyed the rest of your night.

However there was still a part of you that was hurt seeing Ben with someone else even if it wasn't his doing.

Luckily, Ben quickly made sure that YOU were the one for him.

That led to him proposing to you with a promise ring a week later.

...

You said yes to that right away. No way were you letting that pass by you.

Of course, Audrey wasn't happy with that. But who cares, what could she do?

-You didn’t care. You were engaged and had much more pressing matters to attend to.

-Now the whole kingdom was just in your face about really anything and everything.

“when’s the wedding?!”

“How are you adjusting to life as the prince’s boyfriend??”

It was that constantly and it gets old quickly.

So you just focused on Ben and your friends.

Evie insisted on designing yours and Ben’s wedding outfits.

“I mean I won’t tell you no Evie.”

You had to remind everyone that it was only a promise ring and not an actual engagement ring. No one seemed to care.

Honestly with you two, it really was more of an engagement ring.

But that was for another day. Today was Jane's birthday.

Ben had some last minute work to finish so you went ahead of him.

"(M/N)! It's good to see you."

"Ben's on his way. He just had to finish something first. He's sorry for being late."

She waved you off. "No worries."

Then someone you hadn't expected showed up.

Audrey.

She was dressed differently and had maleficent staff.

That wasn't good.

Audrey laid her eyes on you and a wicked smile came over her face.

That REALLY wasn't good.

"Jane, go. Run!"

Jane nods and hightails it out of there.

Audrey starts to sing “Happy birthday” as waves of green smoke wash over the party area, all the guests falling into a cursed sleep.

You brace for an inevitable sleep... but it never comes.

Audrey stands before you, smile on her face.

“A sleeping curse is too good and too easy for you. I have other plans.”

She bangs the bottom of the staff on the ground and you’re surrounded by smoke.

Magic flows over you and when it clears... everything is bigger.

“Well aren’t you a pretty bird...” Audrey says before vanishing.

You run to the edge of the lake and see that she turned you into a raven.

A raven. Of course she turned you into a raven, just like diaval.

Your first instinct is to panic. You're currently a bird when just five seconds ago you were human.

After calming down a bit you realize the next best thing to do is go after Ben.

Ben! If this is what Audrey did to you what would she have done to Ben!?

Without another thought you flap your new wings and try your best to fly.

It's not pretty at first but you figure it out and soon are flying to your future husband.

When you do reach Ben...it's not fun.

Audrey had changed him as well, but instead of a bird he was a beast. Just like his dad.

When you tried talking with him you hoped he would be like how his dad was as a beast...or at least as you had been told.

You figured you'd get to talk with him and figure out a way to stop Audrey.

Ben tried to eat you.

Apparently Audrey's curse made Ben an actual full beast and not just looking like one.

There was only one thing left to do...find help!

Finding help wasn't easy. Everyone was either asleep or turned to stone!

Fairy godmother? Stone. Belle and Adam? Asleep.

Luckily you found Mal and them, along with Uma, Gil and Harry.

Unluckily, they just thought you were a raven.

Harry kept shooing you and threatening to hit you with the hook.

Gil wanted to pet you. So that wasn’t too bad.

And the others either thought you were gross or just a dumb bird.

Gil proves to have the braincell for the group when he suggested giving whatever made Dude the dog talk to you.

Mal did it to “make the conversation change”

"Finally! I've been trying to get your attention forever!"

They all go wide eyed when you're voice comes out of the bird.

"Yes it's me. (M/N). Audrey turned me into a raven and I went to find Ben but she changed him into a beast! You gotta help me save Ben!"

Of course, even though you were a bird, Ben is a king, your boyfriend and a beast right now. You were helping him first.

"Oh and Gil...can you scratch my head again?"

What? It felt good.

Then Jay, Harry, Gil and Carlos went with you to find your boyfriend.

You guys find beast ben and slowly try to get his attention.

He turns and stalks towards you all.

He looks as if he’s about to pounce when Jane pops out of the trees and sprays him with water.

Ben roars and stumbles back rubbing his face. He drops his hands and looks relatively normal.

“What did you hit him with, Jane?” Jay asks.

“Enchanted lake water. Breaks most enchantments. Figured it couldn't hurt.”

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Oh thank gods. I was so worried babe."

Ben froze in place as he saw you talking.

"(M/N)?"

You flew over and landed on his shoulder.

"Hey Ben. Audrey got to me first. Thanks for not eating me earlier."

Ben would then pet you.

"I'm glad I didn't. That would be awkward...now how do we change you back? Jane?"

"I kind of used the last of the water."

You look Ben up and down and he smiles at you.

“Gotta say Ben, I like the fangs and beard. Could be cleaner but...”

“Oh really?” Ben asks.

That when Harry whistles. “Sorry to break up that tender moment... but we have an angry Audrey to pursue...”

"Right! We'll have to figure something out later. I promise! I'll make sure to get you back" Ben said.

You knew he would. Ben always did.

Returning to Evie's cottage, Uma seemed to be leaving in a mood.

Doug who had been asleep was now awake.

"Wait? How is he awake?"

"True love’s kiss."

You looked at Ben who looked back at you.

"Why didn't we think of that?!" you said.

Ben rubbed the back of his head with a nervous look.

"Sorry."

“it’s alright. Lots happening. We’ll try later. First we deal with Audrey!”

Cue Audrey sealing you all in the cottage.

Then mal and Uma break you guys out with some awesome cooperative magic.

You: “Aww you guys are friends again!”

Mal: “I’ll pluck your feathers...”

“Alright! Geez...”

Then everything with Mal came out.

It made your heart break. Ben,Your boyfriend, your future husband, made a decision with Mal to not bring over any more VK's.

You couldn't believe it. You didn't want to accept it.

"So...you didn't even want to talk to me about this?" You said to him.

"I'm a VK Ben! You're wanting to stop any one else from getting the chance that I did? That's so wrong!"

Now you really wish you had gotten that kiss earlier...cause this love didn't feel true anymore.

Uma, Harry and Gil left...and so did you.

"I need to think."

"(M/N) wait!"

Did you leave on Gil’s shoulder, slumped against him? Yes yes you did.

It was all very confusing and pretty shocking.

While you understood where they were coming from... it... it just hurt.

You all were back at the cottage, checking up on Dizzy and the twins.

You were glad they weren’t awake to hear about all that. They had enough on their plates.

“So what do we do now?” You ask, walking on a table, everyone seated around it.

Uma: “Nothing. Let Mal and Ben figure it out... they don’t deserve our help after that stunt.”

"I can't just sit by Uma. I'm mad...but not let Audrey go kind of mad. If anything I want just a bit of revenge."

Uma smirked at that.

"Good to know there's still a VK in there."

You extended your wings and fake bowed.

Eventually you all began heading back to the isle before Mal stopped you begging you all to help her.

"They were turned to stone. (M/N),Ben was turned to stone."

It didn't matter how hurt you were, you still loved Ben.

Without hesitation you hopped off Gil's shoulder and began flying back.

Arriving back at the cottage you saw them, Evie, Dude,Carlos, Jay and Ben...all statues.

You landed on Ben's out stretched stone arm.

"Oh Ben...What do I do?"

You sat there perched on Ben's arm, looking at his frozen face.

You regretted that the last thing you two did was fight.

Hopefully this would be fixed soon and you can apologize.

As if your wishes were answered. Ben and the rest were unfrozen and the people began waking up.

"Ben! Oh gods you're back! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry about how I left."

"(M/N). No I'm sorry. I should have asked you. I'm sorry I didn't."

With that Ben lifted his arm with you on it up and kissed your head.

In an instant you felt yourself changing and growing and soon you were back to being human.

You smiled and pulled Ben into a tight up.

"Forget waiting. Ben, I have no idea what's going to happen but I know I want to be with you. Let's get married."

He didn't disagree and your promise ring was now that engagement ring.

After making sure everyone was alright after everything that transpired you, Ben and Mal got to talking and came to a unanimous decision.

You all agreed it was time to take the barrier down and stop making the children of villains pay for their parents misdeeds.

You worked with the other VKs to make the process as fair and efficient as possible.

Ben pulled you away for a minute to hug you.

“I know we’re still working on the rest of the VKs but I was thinking we could meet with Evie to talk about wedding stuff?”

“of course... we have a lot to plan... together.”

Evie was excited when you told her.

Ben and you also enjoyed the planning, especially the cake.

Your wedding was going to be amazing.

#descendants #disney's descendants #disneys descendants #descendants ben #descendants ben florian #ben florian #ben florian x male reader #ben florian x male!reader #ben florian x reader

762 notes · View notes

inkdemonapologist · 3 years

Photo

cONTINUING THE PLANNING FROM EPISODE NINE OF THE BENDY CTHLUHU GAME, we are all very good at being supernatural investigators, and definitely not just an animation studio that is way out of its league

A smattering of out-of-context quotes are under the cut!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Joey] Once Joey's pretty sure he has Henry's awareness he's just going to point-blank ask, "You smeared your blood on one of the symbols?!" [Sammy] (OOOOOHHHHHHH SOMEONE TATTLED ON YOU!!!)

[Joey] What was my starting sanity? [Sammy] 67. [Joey] Okay... so I need to lose, um... [GM] I love this phrasing. [Jack] I mean, I was literally counting it down and announced the final sanity loss with, like, an excited toot emoji!

[GM] I think Jack would have to cooperate to wake up, but I don't know why he wouldn't. [Jack] Hm...... 5 more minutes, Joey....... [Henry] Jack will wake up uncooperatively! [Sammy] Jack just sitting next to his body like "...No."

[Jack] Prophet Sam was doing his best! [Sammy] He was! [Sammy] He's always Doing His Best, (Derogatory)

[Joey] We did manage to transfer the Host marking before... so we might be able to transfer it to Doc Moonlight? [Henry] I'll just punch him in the face again! [Joey] nO, you don't get to punch him! I mean, you can punch him, but you're not-- No More Hosting For Henry!! [Sammy] and I'd rather not travel through time again, if it's all the same.

[Sammy] Also, sometimes Moonlight carries the stone on his person! So if we can just beat him up, take the stone AND take the staff, then that's two... birds with one........ stone.

[Sammy] They don't even know who Peter is, he's not special. [Jack] ...Jack thinks he's special... [GM] But you know, not in the magic blood, prophet eyes kind of way, [Jack] He's only just met Joey Drew, give him five minutes. [Sammy] Well SO far, it sounds like the winning plan is to go back to sleep!

[Sammy] *makes suggestion out of character* [Joey] That's a great idea, and Joey's going to steal it from you, and also pitch it to everyone else. [Sammy] (...JOEY DREW IS GOING TO STEAL IT FROM ME? THE PLAYER???)

[Henry] Henry will go wherever he is wanted... [Henry] ...or he'll take another nap. [Sammy] See if you can astral project somewhere useful! [Jack] He astral projects, and it's just to the shops to buy sunglasses.

[Jack] Jack might go along, especially if it's Sammy; like, Sammy doesn't have a great time talking to people anyway, and on top of that, "Last time I was here, I was a weird crazy cultist who was drinking paint!" -- he might want someone around who, theoretically, can speak! [Sammy] Sammy needs a chaperone anyway, just in case weird things happen. [Henry] Henry will come! Between him and Jack, hopefully one of them will be able to form coherent sentences! [Jack] They'll just trade off which one's dissociating! [Sammy] I can't believe Joey is leaving to buy sunglasses, and we need ALL THREE OF THE OTHERS, PUT TOGETHER, to equal Joey's force in talking.

[Joey] Hold on, I need to look something up really quick... NO! FUCK! Sharpies didn't exist until 1964. [Joey] I'm just trying to figure out what we can... dammit! Permanent markers in general didn't exist until 1952!!! [Sammy] You can buy normal ink, probably. [Joey] I guess, yeah... probably a brush too, I'm just making a grocery list now, ...do we want to get a mat, or do we want to put the binding circle on the inside of a jacket-- I'm sorry, I keep going back to the inside of jacket thing-- [Sammy] NO! Because then we have to get the jacket off of whoever it's on and-- look, it just seems inconvenient. You can roll up a mat and just carry it. You can have a messenger bag it's stuffed into, it's fine. [GM] I guess your hands are free, though... [Sammy] You can have a messenger bag it's stuffed into and then your hands are free!! [Joey] *still researching* Messenger bags did not exist until the 1950s, so those are also not an option. [Jack] We just need to put the binding circle on a pair of converse, clearly.

[Jack] Sammy can fast talk, it's just the wrong kind.

[Sammy] We suspect the ritual is the finale to their party. [GM, as Allison] She is impressed by their ambition, but she's like, "Well, we can't have that. That won't do." [Jack] (I LOVE ALLISON,) [Sammy] Sammy assures her it's actually a pretty sloppy operation. [Jack] From what we can tell, they don't know what they're doing. [Allison] Amateurs. Anyway, thanks for the update!

[Joey] It's just a little more money! [Jack] (distant sound of Grant sobbing) [Sammy] We gotta stop going on these trips; that's what's going to do Grant in. [Joey] Grant is actually the antagonist for the next scenario

[Jack] That's not supernatural, that's just Joey Drew. Supernaturally incompetent with money.

[GM] Everyone make a Spot (Hidden) check! [Sammy] (Okay, Norman, come out,)

[Jack] I thought you were going to say that Henry makes the cat activation noise. [Sammy] How many different things can we give Henry! WHAT SUPERNATURAL QUALITY WILL GIVE HENRY THE CAT ACTIVATION NOISE? [Jack] You need Sillytime for that, clearly! [Sammy] ...I don't know if Sammy makes the cat activation noise... [GM] The Fabled and Feared Sillytime Henry.

[Henry] I have to ask, has Peter been told about Bendy? [Joey] Kind of? [Sammy] Kind of.

[GM] You can trap people in it, if you get them to look through it into a mirror under the full moon? And with sunlight hitting it at the right angle under the new moon, you can get people out of it! [Sammy] OKAY, TIME TO LOOK UP THE PHASES OF THE MOON IN NINETEEN THIRTY FOUR

[Sammy] So basically, on Mardi Gras itself is when we can pull the family out. [Jack] Which would be a really great way of getting Fowler on our side, just be like, "Hey! Check out this neat party trick!"

[GM] Henry could've picked up two nightsticks. [Henry] Maybe he's just starting a collection! "These are all the things people have tried to kill me with." [Jack] You didn't keep the snake. Your collection is ruined. [Henry] Aw, it is, [Henry] It's always the one thing.

[Joey] Joey will have Sammy go down to meet him, since we didn't have our new room back then, and Sammy's apparently really good at scaring off cultists! [Sammy] Yeah, alright- [Joey] And while Sammy's doing that, he's going to have another shot of ink. [Sammy] Ah.

[Jack] Would they recognise Jack's new hat at this point? He was wearing Pete's hat in the swamp... [Sammy] COMPLETELY UNRECOGNISABLE

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Henry Stein #joey drew #Jack Fain #when in doubt just keep drawing

176 notes · View notes

kaislittleheadliner · 3 years

Text

Dark Roast (Colin Zabel x Fem!Reader) - Part One

Just a random thing/plot bunny/??? (that is apparently Part 1 of ??), because Colin is a soft boy and I’m addicted to coffee/wanted an excuse to use the Colin pouring coffee gif. This was originally just going to be a cute little fluffy drabble, but it got away from me. Also, if I do end up writing more for any of Evan’s characters and you want to be tagged, plz let me know. I’m more than happy to create a taglist.

[A/N: I’m sorry if any characters are OOC. I have seen exactly 0% of “Mare of Easttown.” I just think Colin is a sweet detective boy and wanted to write about him. Also he’s not gonna die, because fuck that.]

Word Count: 2184

Warnings: None, unless you have a violent hatred for coffee, and/or Colin Zabel.

~*~

I was so deep in thought about the current case that I didn’t even register the sound of approaching footsteps as I stirred my coffee. I jolted back to awareness when the person who’d come in without my knowledge cleared their throat. I mentally shook myself and turned to see none other than Detective Zabel leaning against the door frame with an amused smile playing across his lips.

“Case got you stumped too?” He asked with a pointed glance at the cup of coffee I’d been stirring for...uh...how long had I been in here? I blushed a bit, tossing out the little wooden stir stick.

“Just a bit,” I tried to sound as nonchalantly as possible. “But um...maybe don’t tell Mare that?”

“Why not?” He asked as he finally pushed himself slowly off the door frame and walked over to the coffee pot beside me. “It’s okay if a case stumps you. That’s why we’re here, ya know: to bounce ideas off each other. To help each other.”

“No, I know. It’s just that Mare...well, she seemed so confident in me when she got me hired. I guess I just don’t want to let her down,” I said raising my cup to my lips and wincing at the sip of cold coffee that hit my tongue. Okay, seriously, how long had I been in here?

“Hey, it’s your first high-profile case. Don’t be too hard on yourself. And don’t worry, Mare isn’t going to be disappointed in you. You’re a smart woman and you get results. She’s really impressed with you so far. We all are,” his voice went a bit quieter at the latter end of his thought, and I wondered if he’d actually meant to say it out loud. The smattering of pink across his cheeks would suggest not.

But no, surely that was my own wishful thinking. Detective Colin Zabel, the most attractive person in all of Easttown, blushing? And at me no less? Never in a million years. I tried to get my mind off my coworker by changing the subject.

“How long were you over there, by the way?”

“Oh just a couple minutes,” he said pouring coffee into his travel mug. “Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone, ya know?”

“Assuming coffee is one, what’s the other?” I asked, surreptitiously putting my coffee in the microwave for a few seconds. No way was I drinking shitty, nearly-burned, break room coffee stone cold. He fixed the lid on his mug and turned to face me.

“Actually, you are. I was coming to ask if you wanted to brainstorm together. I’m a bit fuzzy myself on all this, especially after the ballistics report and forensics came back. Mare’s off chasing a lead, so the office is free for us to use for at least a couple of hours,” he said with a warm smile.

A couple of hours alone with Colin? My heart rate sped up at the mere thought. The microwave dinged, and I retrieved my coffee in an attempt to make myself form coherent sentences.

“I-I, um...yeah. That would be helpful.” I was proud that my voice only soundly vaguely unsteady. Hopefully he hadn’t heard that. Stealing a glance back toward him, I was momentarily stunned by how happy he looked. “I’ll grab my notes and meet you up there in a few minutes, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah! Er, I mean, yes. That would be fine,” he said giving me a small wave with his travel mug as he tried to back out of the break room. After bumping into the wall with a quiet oath, he made it out and down the hallway.

- - - -

Two and a half hours later, Colin and I had all our notes sprawled across his desk like some massive puzzle. We’d made marks in pens of all colors with thoughts of varying importance to the case and scratched out other less-relevant ideas. Both our coffee mugs were nearly empty and the remnants left cold and bitter.

“All I’m saying is he’s bound to make a mistake eventually,” Colin said. “I mean everything was almost pristine except the gun-”

“Which was the wrong type of gun. The bullets didn’t match, remember? That has to be deliberate. I mean, everything was clean except a single set of prints? They’re trying to frame somebody,” I said absentmindedly sipping the disgusting sludge in my cup and nearly choking. “God, this is gross.”

Colin grimaced at the taste of his own cold coffee and moved his mug far from him.

“Okay, we clearly need to take a step back. As the one in the room with seniority, I say we take a break, get some real coffee at the cafe down the street, and come at this with fresh eyes,” he said standing and stretching his back. I did the same as he threw on his coat, and we piled all our notes away in our respective folders.

As we made our way out of the building and toward the only cafe in Easttown, I caught Colin looking at me a couple of times. Fighting my self-consciousness, I cleared my throat quietly.

“Something on your mind?” I tucked my hands in my pockets and couldn’t make myself meet his gaze.

“Nothing, it’s just...well, I can see why Mare was so insistent that you get hired. You’ve got a real knack for this. Y’know, you really have no reason to be nervous about what she thinks of you. You’re doing your best, and your best is pretty damn good - way beyond the norm for a junior detective.” At that, I looked at him thoroughly surprised. He must have seen the incredulity etched in my face, because he let out a small huff of laughter. “I mean it, you’re a very good detective.”

“That’s very kind of you, Detective Zabel,” I managed to stammer when I found my voice. How could I be so confident discussing a murder, but not my own qualifications?

“Call me Colin. Please. We’ve worked together for a couple weeks now, and we just spent over an hour debating the finer points of blood splatter patterns and fingerprints. I think that qualifies as us being past formalities when we’re alone,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll do that on one condition: you call me by my first name, as well,” I said working up the courage to meet his eyes. He said my name quietly as if he was tasting it, then held out his hand to shake on it.

“Deal, no question.” His voice really had no business being that smooth and sexy when he was standing that close to me. I shook his hand, and he held it a bit longer than I would’ve expected.

- - - -

As we walked back to the station maybe half an hour later, I felt more comfortable being in Colin’s company than I had before. We’d talked a bit at the cafe, and I’d learned he lived with his mom and that he was exactly as sweet outside the office as he seemed at work. He’d even helped a little old lady ascent the few steps it took to get into the cafe with gentlemanly courtesy. It wasn’t hard to see why Detective Zabel was so widely admired by the citizens of Easttown. Not to mention he was also an actual hero.

Then he laughed at some stupid joke I made, and I knew for damn certain that I was a goner. His hand brushed against mine as we walked, and I felt my heart thump faster. The words I’d been saying were startled right out of my brain, but if Colin noticed how I trailed off, he was kind enough not to acknowledge it. We were quiet for a few moments, and I gathered my courage. When were almost back to the station, I stopped, and he turned to face me with a questioning look.

“Colin? Can I ask you something?” I asked wondering if I should even bother. I’d probably just end up sounding silly.

“Always. You can always ask me anything,” he said reaching his hand over and gently holding mine. His skin was warm against mine in the frigid air.

“Why are you being so kind to me? Please don’t misunderstand, I’m incredibly grateful, I just...well, I’m nobody and you’re the Hero Detective of Easttown.” Warm fingers tilted my chin up until I was looking into Colin’s beautiful brown eyes. There was a gentle smile ghosting across his lips.

“Because people deserve kindness. You deserve kindness,” he said, and the intensity of his gaze made me shiver lightly. Colin set his coffee down for a moment and shrugged his coat off. Before I could protest, Colin had draped it around my shoulders, enveloping me in warmth.

But how do you tell your coworker that it was him that made you shiver, not the cold?

So I thanked him quietly as he picked up his coffee. As we reached the door of the station, a car pulled up and out stepped Mare. Her eyes lingered on me, presumably because of Colin’s coat, and I couldn’t stop the blush that colored my cheeks.

“While the two of you have been wasting time, I managed to get some valuable information about our killer. Office. Now,” she said brushing past us into the building. Like scolded children, we followed close at her heels, and Colin’s hand came up to catch mine in his grasp. This time I gave his fingers a soft squeeze to acknowledge that it was alright.

- - - -

Even through Mare’s frustration and slightly harsh comments, the smile that formed when Colin took my hand in his wouldn’t leave my lips. Our eyes met a couple of times through her explanation and theorizing, sending a shock of warmth through the hand he’d held earlier. Was that normal? I rubbed my palm absentmindedly in my lap as I listened to Mare’s current theory, letting myself drift only far enough that her tone was softened in my mind.

“Are you even paying attention?” Her eyes were fixed on me, and I said a quick yes. “Then what did I just say?”

I repeated her last two sentences to her verbatim, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. If she couldn’t even take me seriously enough not to berate me during a simple theorizing session, then wasn’t that proof that I shouldn’t even be there? A quiet sigh left her a huff and she thrust a paper at me.

“Take that to forensics. The walk should be more interesting for you than real detective work, since that clearly bores you,” she was giving me a rather stern look, but after all the work and analysis I’d put into this case there was no way in hell I was taking that.

“Are you joking? Mare, I’ve spent hours analyzing the ballistics and the crime scene forensics. I’m sorry I don’t look like you do when you think, but I’m as invested in this case as you are. You hired me for a reason. Either let me do my job or fire me, but you don’t get to turn me into a paper courier. If there’s a real reason for it, I’m happy to help, but if it’s just to get me out of the way like this, then what was the point in hiring me?”

I’d never snapped at her before, but she’d never been so condescending before and it had been a long day. My patience was wearing thin, and my frustration at this case was only growing. Mare having a bad day was her problem, not mine. I pointedly ignored the paper she was still holding out to me until she set it back on her desk and continued with her explanation with a glower. I didn’t dare look at Colin after that. I didn’t want to see his disappointment in my lack of decorum. I probably should have just taken the paper and been done with it.

“So if they really are trying to frame him, what’s the reason?” Colin asked.

“It might be worth asking the brother-” I started, Mare cut me off with a growl.

“You know what? You were right. I do want you out of the room. Go find something to do. I don’t care what. Just get out,” she said to me, and blinked as though I’d been slapped. When I hesitated, she strode to the door and opened it pointedly. “Get. Out.”

“Mare, c’mon. This is ridic-” Colin started, but she cut him off.

“Shut up, Zabel. This isn’t about you.”

I gathered my files and a pen and went toward the door. When I was just beside Mare, I looked at her as calmly as I could manage. Further anger wouldn’t help.

“I don’t know what I did to make you so angry with me, but I am sorry. Give me a call if you need anything. I’ll be in the archives,” I said before turning and walking out.

#colin zabel #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel and his coffee #bc we all know that's the real ship #colin zabel fic #sfw #kaislittleheadliner fics #dark roast

69 notes · View notes

batarella · 4 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - chapter 12

‘Dick, Jason, and Tim. Supposed brothers 'till the end, until all three fall in love with you. Who wins your heart?

The man who earned it, the man who stole it, or the man who always had it?’

A/N: We continue the three perspectives!!! AND we got special appearances from a few characters today eeeeee we’re so close to the finale. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

WORDS: 12,068 WARNINGS: violence, arm dislocation, muscle injuries, alcoholism, mentions of coffee addiction and insomnia

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

Dick:

That day, this all ends.

Telling himself he got into this mess because he hadn’t a choice, that he hadn’t already stopped because it was all just too riveting and captivating and not at all within his control, was nothing short of a lie.

He had every say in it.

But not even his fucking conscience could convince him to stop. He wanted this mess. Dove right into the lava. He knew every bit of the heartbreak he’d have to endure and he willingly brought it to himself. To get lost into the deep dark woods, with nothing more than an oil lamp, to be pricked by the many thorns and suffocated by the leaves and trees that crowd about much like a bush. To get lost in her, and never want to climb out of any of it. He knew how slippery the road ahead of him was and still he kept going, kept driving, sped up a little even when he thought he’d actually get to where the stars pointed him to.

But so profoundly was his loss of himself, without much effort at all to escape from those grasps even when he told himself he did; going to another woman, wanting the same arrest of his heart to hopefully take him away, but without halting those thoughts of Y/N and how her smile that he’d seen earlier that day would last until dark, maybe even beyond that. Those flares of her face and her voice and how he let them speak to her every night, change them into burning whispers against his ear when he’s memorized her voice too much to make her say anything he wanted her to, even when they only last in his head.

Dick never tried to stop her from taking her heart like that, even when he had to watch her be with another.

Tonight, it all ends. Every bit of this torture that he brought only to himself, it all comes to this sorry halt.

Dick, standing atop a roof of an office building in Dresher, knew that at that moment, he had to sit this one down. He had to be alone and in the darkness to make this as painful as it possibly could, hoping that if all that pain were to be felt now, compress them into this little tub of static blackness, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad the next day, and the day after that. Even when he knew this would backfire, he had to.

No one, especially not Y/N, would want him to end up with her. Tim deserved her. Hell, even Jason’s done a lot more for her sake than he had. He can't hope anymore. He can't let this go on.

All this would have gone better if he’d known this sooner.

So with him on that rooftop, sitting on the ledge fifty stories above as if not at all was he a push away from death, Dick let his finger scroll across his phone’s screen moist from his sweat. The battery was going to run out soon. He’d been there for hours, staring at that same picture of her from the day in the nursery, when the sun had been kind to her, touching the surface of her skin so perfectly, it showed more of the little details that he’d already memorized. Those exact images would be thrown out by the end of tonight. Pack their bags. Scram them out the door.

It had, as expected, proven to be difficult.

The thirty-seven pictures he took that day, he’d already heartly remembered by the end of it. Countless of times, he pulled them out of his pocket just to take a second to look, even at the worst. Another month had passed and nothing had happened much since, nothing out the ordinary, which meant their friendship was back to how it used to be. They were friends.

And that was why it ends tonight. Because if he doesn’t fight these thoughts, if he doesn’t fight her, he loses her. He loses this friendship.

Are you sure you want to delete this photo?

Confirm.

Thirty-six times, he let his finger do the talking. Not his heart. Not even his brain.

At the last one, the screen was too distorted by a fallen tear that had seeped out of his domino mask for him to go on. It was the only hindrance he needed to give up and stop. At least for a second.

But he couldn’t even dwell on it too much, or let himself cry, let it burn his skin off enough so it wouldn’t hurt any more afterwards. He couldn’t even let himself have that luxury when he heard the thudding noise of his brother’s boot-cladded feet, a Bo staff that hit the ground, and a black cape that enforced a gust of wind to blow against the back of his head.

Dick just closed his eyes, and just after that, Tim walked over to stand right behind him.

Greatest Detective in the World. But even an idiot would know what he was up to, sitting in the darkness crying while his feet dangle off a rooftop’s ledge, eyes to his phone like he was reading the saddest sob story in the whole world or that he’d just received a text that one of his loved ones’ lives had been taken away from cancer.

The way Tim was silent, he knew.

And Dick just let him believe it, without even a word to explain himself, he did. He let Tim’s mind do the figuring out and the explaining because not even his own words would be half that truth.

Tim’s voice that night wasn’t the kind he heard often.

“You think this is the right time for that, Dick?”

A crack on his knuckles, his throat sounding rough and beaten, Dick didn’t know what to even say.

“We called you fifteen times over at the bridge. We needed you-“

“Sorry-“

“And it turns out you’ve been at your phone the whole time-“

“You handled it without me.”

“That isn’t the fucking point.”

A month of silence, since that deathly night after they took Y/N home. Several minutes, together in one car, had proven to be one of the most insufferable moments of his life. And not surprisingly, it went on for even more days after that.

Dick turned off his phone, but Tim snatched it away from his hands and walked away so Dick couldn’t grab it.

He stood from the ledge. “Come on, Tim. Not cool.”

“Hmm. Cute,” Tim faked a smile and swiped around the screen, at the last picture of Y/N he had. “Could have sent it to me. And Jason.”

“Tim-“

“But it’s cool,” Tim said. He threw the phone back at Dick and he caught it just before it hit the ground. “All good. Finally, you have something of her all to yourself, right?”

Tim was Tim. Not this. Not someone so angry and grievous and someone who was looking at him that way with so much disgust when he used to be that young boy of fourteen who looked at his older brother like a god. How long, he thought, must he have kept all this frustration bundled up inside, where not even he could reach into. Someone who’s so calm, so in control of what he says, had finally given in and let his annoyance flourish about. He wondered, as anyone would, at what point Tim had finally had enough of all of this.

“Tim, please-“

“You,” Tim pointed his gloved finger right at Dick’s face.

“You were supposed to be my brother.”

Tim:

Of course, he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of all this a lot longer than anyone else, even he, would have thought.

It might have been since that day Y/N was crying over an argument they once had, over something he can't even remember, that almost pried them apart, only for Dick to come along and console her without telling Tim where he was, and he only knew because Y/N told him what happened. If she hadn’t, Tim wouldn’t have known.

He wouldn’t have known Dick had long been pining over the love of his life, never mind how she was in his arms and kissing his lips and calling for his name.

Dick, who could have literally anyone he could possibly wish for, just had to want her.

“What do you want me to say?” The asshole started after a moment’s silence, of nothing but a helicopter’s whirl from far above, the lack of light from everywhere around them, and their footsteps against the empty cement.

He couldn’t even look at his brother in the eye with his mask on, but he knew enough to know what he felt. It didn’t matter if he was sincere. It didn’t even matter that he cried.

“Nothing,” Tim said. “You’ve done your damage.”

“Damage?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me.”

Tim scoffed and faked yet another laugh. It annoyed himself at that point.

“You are unbelievable-“

“I’m not trying to do anything with her anymo-“

“Don’t even start with that, asshole.”

Tim’s hands were shaking, and subconsciously he tried to repress those tremors, hoping they’d go away if he clenched them enough, but they only got worse.

“She was mine,” he cried. “And you just couldn’t handle that-“

“I never tried anything with her when you were together.” Dick tried to step closer to him but he just backed away.

“So you weren’t just waiting for us to break up so you’d swoop in and be the hero?” he scoffed. “I asked you to make sure she was okay, not take advantage of her hurting just so you’d have your chance.”

“And why did you break up, Tim?” He had the audacity to ask. “You didn’t love her anymore-“

“You knew I still did-“

“Then why hurt her?!”

“Because I was hurting her anyway!”

Never. He’s never been this angry. Not that he could recall.

“I was 17. Everything about me changed. Wayne Enterprises. Red Robin. Fucking Bruce dying and coming back to life. She was there but I was about to lose my fucking mind. I thought she didn’t have a place in all that mess anymore so I broke it off.”

Finally, he stepped close enough to Dick, almost to leveling with his height. His brother had his lips hidden, hands falling to his sides.

He looked terrified.

“Two seconds after that, I never regret anything more my whole fucking life. I thought talking to you would make her feel better, but you just couldn’t help but bat your pretty little eyes at her when she was vulnerable. I wanted to go back but I couldn’t ‘cuz you were already there!”

He was snarling, and a growl escaped his throat by the time he backed away. Tim didn’t even get to hear himself until he saw his own reflection in the white of Dick’s mask.

But Dick. He didn’t even take it as a hint to just shut up and take his rambling.

“I never meant to keep her away from you-“

“I went to you, Dick.” Tim wiped his lips with the back of his gloves, watched over to the next building to avoid his brother’s face. “I always went to you for help. With her. You know how long I’ve wanted her. And I went to you because I thought you were my brother and you’d help me.”

“I did help you!”

“You were helping yourself!”

His hands slammed against Dick’s chest, and it was a good thing he didn’t fight back. He would have just taken that as an excuse to keep hitting.

“Tim,” Dick held his hands up. Tim backed away. “Just go to her-“

“THIS ISNT ABOUT HER ANYMORE, ASSHOLE!”

Hands shoving his chest once again. This time, Dick had caught them, held them by his wrists enough so Tim couldn’t pull them away.

“THIS IS ABOUT YOU AND ME, GRAYSON!” Tim screamed. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HAVING EACH OTHER’S BACKS!”

“YOU THINK IT WAS MY CHOICE TO GET IN BETWEEN YOU!?”

It was from a whip of strength not even he had known prior, but it hurt when he finally could take his hands off of Dick’s grip, and with that, he backed further away, though his eyes couldn’t stray from looking straight into his brother’s.

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER IF IT WAS-“

“THEN I’M SORRY!’ Dick swallowed. “IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?!”

“No,” Tim’s knees hit the railing and so close did he fall, but he kept himself up, rubbed the bottom of his chin with his gloved hand. “You're not sorry…”

Dick’s silence. Even more so did he want to just lunge at him and strangle his vocal chords. No matter how far-fetched, Dick was supposed to tell him all the things he wanted him to say. So far, he’s said none of that.

Dick just watched when Tim turned around to rest his weight onto his palms, looking out into the open seeking for just about any kind of help there was that he could call out from the wind, but there was nothing.

“You're right,” Dick said, and Tim felt the cement crack from beneath his palms. “I’m not sorry.”

“Fucking bold of you-”

“What would have happened to her if I hadn’t stepped in?” He heard Dick’s voice louder and clearer, which meant he was walking closer towards him.

“I would have come back. I always wanted to come back, but by then she was all over you. I couldn’t-“

Tim looked at his own hands. “I had it coming. I can't blame her.”

Another whiff of air, and it blew the strands of his black locks right onto his eyelids. They stung, but he didn’t push them away. He just kept his eyes locked onto the blankness of the gray, the dark that went all the way into his spirit.

“But I do blame you-“

“Tim, you hurt her-”

“AND YOU HAVENT?!”

Dick caught his Bo staff, which Tim had thrown right at him as swiftly as he turned around. His mouth was as dry as his palms were sweating. His teeth were close to breaking. And his eyes dangerously drifting off into some unknown nowhere just so he wouldn’t have to look at such betrayal.

“Tim-“

Tim was shaking, or at least his hands were, when he gave into his impulses and moved so fast, grabbing Dick by the collar and standing him down.

“You stand there blaming me for all that hurt when here you are-“

“What the hell do you want me to say to you?!”

He was strong, stronger than any one of them would have thought. Dick couldn’t even move, much less out of shock than it was out of his hold on him too overwhelming to counter.

“Tim, this isn’t like you-“

“You have no idea what I’ll do,” Tim growled. “Why do you think I became Red Robin?”

To separate himself from the likes of what it used to be. To not be Robin anymore. To stray away from his ideals, ideals and morals no longer his.

Because he was, in his truest capacity, capable of much darker things than people seem to know. Even his own brother.

“I hate you-“

Dick, who took that second to take advantage of weakness, grabbed him by the wrists and pushed him off with the soles of his feet, not enough to send him to the ground but enough to almost topple him. And when he looked up, immediately, Tim’s fist headed for his brother’s head, but again it was caught by Dick’s palm.

“HEY, HEY, HEY, ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU!”

A much deeper, louder voice, the third one to be heard that night. It was that, and two strong arms that grabbed Tim by the shoulder and Dick by his suit’s back. Even when it wasn’t even to much effect, they stopped.

At least, for a second they did, before Tim started for Dick’s neck and he had to be held back with a strong hand right against his chest. “Let me go!”

“What the hell is going on with you two!?”

“Stay out of this Jason!”

It was easier for Jason to stand right in between, just to stop either of them from going after their skin. Dick had stopped. Tim, on the other hand, had to be held back by the shoulders. “Tim, calm down!”

“I said stay out of this!”

Jason:

“One of you pinheads tell me what’s going on!”

“Are you really gonna let Jason fight your battles, Dick?!”

Tim tried to push Jason out of the way. He was lucky, in fact, that none of them could see the irate look on his face hidden behind the safety of a red helmet. Otherwise they might have started for him too, just at how disgusted he looked at them both. And he had every right to be. He knew exactly why they were fighting. It was the devil in him who felt like asking.

Jason held him back with his cape. “Hey, KNOCK IT OFF-“

“Let go of me!”

“You don’t think I wanna bash this asshole’s brains out everyday, Tim?!” Jason hauled him to the floor. “Trust me. You can hold back.”

“Oh, fuck you, Todd.”

“You shut up.” Jason pointed at Dick. “If this is about Y/N I know exactly why Tim wants you dead.”

“And why am I the one you two’re ganging up on?!”

“If I was, Dick, I’d just let this one have at it with you. Thank me later.” Jason said, nodding over at Tim. Tim shrugged off his brother’s hold on him and frowned.

“You were never the one to trust, Dick,” Tim gulped. And Jason knew Dick would have thought the same. His flaring eyes, the burn that was almost never there from someone so usually calm. It was unnerving seeing Tim this way. “Look at everyone you’ve hurt. Y/N. Kori. When are you going to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, you little-“

“Hey! Knock it off!” Jason pushed Dick again with a shove of his hand. Dick stepped back.

“Jason, just get out of here -“

“I don’t know, man; Feels like I have to be the responsible one. For once.”

Tim grabbed Jason’s hand and hauled him to the side so he could step closer to where Dick was standing. “You don’t want to be a part of this.”

Jason, if not at all wanting that to be true in the slightest sense, didn’t fight back and took Tim’s shoving. But, as he’d thought, Dick was the one who looked at him so slyly he wanted to grab his lips and use them to haul him over the building.

Suddenly, every part of his skin wanted to burst, blood beating through every inch of vessel and flesh so much it burned him. His mouth sewed shut, ears hurting at the redness. Again, if not for the helmet, it would have been a dead giveaway.

But Dick wasn’t having it.

“Trust me, Tim. He already is.”

“What the hell do you mean-“

“I said, enough. You two settle this at home.”

Jason tried for Dick’s shoulder just to push him to back away, but he threw his hand off.

“Don’t fucking act like the good guy between the three of us,” Dick said. “What are you gonna say next? That this isn’t what Y/N would want?”

“You think it is?!”

Dick chortled and he turned away. Tim still wouldn’t let his glare away from his brother and if Jason would let him, he’d have mauled him to death.

“You always did think you knew what was best for her, didn’t you?”

“Jason, what the hell is he talking about?”

He never told him. The bastard never told Tim when he was so sure he would, when he basically told him that night outside Y/N’s doorstep that by the end of the hour, Tim would know what he’d done and he’d have found Jason by the next, even when he tries too hard to disappear, which he had tried to do for four months, hiding from his brother, and not long after he’ll never be welcomed into the manor as so much as a guest. It did surprise him, after many months, that Tim hadn’t so much as acknowledged it. Part of him wanted to believe Tim didn’t care, or had already forgiven Y/N and in turn forgiven him.

But, of course, Dick hadn’t told him. The asshole wanted this to drag out as painfully long as he possibly could. Make him carry that burden himself just because he thought it was right, as Tim’s brother, even when he wanted no part of those niceties.

“You wanna tell him?” The blue leotard wearing ass said. “Or should I?”

“Don’t fucking bring me into this shitshow-“

“Brother, you walked right into it yourself.”

“I will kill you,” Jason growled. “One of these days.”

“Tell me what?”

Tim’s voice, the softest it had been since the start of that night.

He shouldn’t.

His little brother, one whose relationship had proven far too difficult to build, if there was ever a chance at a good relationship at all. His brother. An established brotherhood he once despised so much, took too many years just for it to be something tolerable. His little brother.

He never had a little brother like Tim. Perhaps even now, he wouldn’t. Not once he knows.

“Tim, I-“

“Jason, tell me what’s going on.”

Dick no longer even had that smirk on him. He just looked sad for the both of them, as he should be. As anyone should be.

“Just tell him.”

So much did his fist want to just fly and land straight at Grayson’s perfectly chiseled cheekbones, break his face so much he wouldn’t live to stand a day.

But Jason had grown too silent, too guilty.

He couldn’t even take off his helmet and look at either of them in the eye.

Tim stepped right in front of him and on his face kind of worry that often lingered prior to it being the worst rage to ever engulf into.

Was there a way out of this? To counter the impact? Make it so it didn’t hurt so much?

If Grayson had just told him, it wouldn’t have to be this way.

“Jason-“

He looked up, and through the slits of his visor, he knew Tim wanted to look at him in the eye, to find something out of this truth.

“I…”

His throat, it hurt to even breath. And when this happened, he usually takes the helmet off. This time, however, he couldn’t do that. Not when he had so much to say despite him not wanting to.

“I slept with her…”

It was a shame Dick didn’t look too much like an ass right then. If he did, he’d have a reason for himself to just jump at him with a knife. But all he could even see, all he could bring himself to watch, was his feet.

Nothing else. Not when Tim was looking at him that way.

“What?”

“I slept with her-“

Tim.

Was it even Tim anymore? The boy in front of him? Who never looked at him with so much betrayal?

“When?”

“A few months ago…” he said. “Lasted about a month.”

Then, it wouldn’t even have mattered if it were him who broke the news, the asshole that Dick was, or the Gotham Times.

Tim.

No longer his little brother. Never will be again.

Right for the neck. That’s where Tim pounced a second less than he was smart enough to move away.

Dick:

That asshole deserved it.

But if anyone deserved it more than Jason did, it was Dick.

Was it to divert Tim’s attention from himself? Give him a breather and a while for Tim’s anger to mellow down taking it out on Jason so he doesn’t take it out on him so much? Possibly.

But the moment Tim’s hands squeezed the living daylights out of Jason’s neck, he knew he shouldn’t have brought it up. It was wrong. This was all wrong.

He started for Tim’s arms, grabbing them both just to at least give Jason enough time to breath, but this newfound strength certainly wasn’t one he’d expected. When he did manage to pull them off, Tim swung his fist right at Dick’s face.

Then, he went back for Jason, who then took that short time to grab both his fists and stop them for hurling him over the roof.

This was his fault. This was his doing.

And all the more did he want this to end when Jason held Tim strong enough to make him scream, and with that, he threw another punch right for his helmet, shattering the visor beneath his bruised knuckles. Jason tried to kick him away with his knee, but Tim was pushing him.

Jason, who should have been a lot stronger, was not doing much to fight Tim. And instead, he tried talking him out of it.

“Tim!” he coughed. Tim still holding both fists went on to push him. “Tim, stop!”

Head slam against his helmet, and it broke, enough for a part of it to be chipped off and expose his forehead.

Jason finally hurled Tim over to the ground just so he could wipe the blood stain off from seeping down his eyes, but that wasn’t much of a good idea. Not when Tim took that as a chance to jump for his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders, and with the forces of their own bodies flying across the wind, the railing wasn’t enough to stop their fall.

Tim and Jason fell over the building, down fifty stories with one’s hands wrapped around the others throat, and Tim went on to strangle him even as they fell.

Dick, without even thinking much, dove into that same abyss. Did he have a plan? No. Was this going to work anyway? Probably not. But he had to try.

At least, it was all he had to do. When Dick leapt, head soaring straight down for a car so miniscule that wouldn’t be so small the more he wastes time, his brothers thrashing bodies that broke the speed of their fall worked to his sorry advantage and Dick managed to catch up.

He grabbed Tim off, thankfully with the fall lessening his grip but not at all did it change the murderous look on his face. This wasn’t his brother. This can't be him. This was someone who had all his frustrations bottled up in the form of coffee addiction, insomnia, and workaholic tendencies, someone who hadn’t vented out his hurt and anger at him, who he apparently had been hating for a while.

When he had him in his grasps, Dick grappled up to the next building. “Jason, hold on!”

It was, in actuality, the worst idea he’s ever come up with. Other than the fact that Tim weighed a good 170 pounds, Jason was no lighter. Not even in the slightest. And carrying both of them? He might as well be hauling up a whole tank.

That one single grappling hook showed them no appreciation despite it holding on the best it could. And it was to no help that the hook landed on a building too far.

They were just yards up the ground when the rope tightened, and the impact on Dick’s arm he was sure had the bone dislocated. A scream was all he could muster at the shooting pains that went all the way up his neck, but still, he held on, and even when it lasted no more than a few seconds, it was all too agonizing not to feel like it lasted hours.

All it took was to at least break the fall, but that was all he could handle. Dick let go of the grapple gun and they were falling across the whole block, across the street over to an abandoned lot with junkyard cars and probably some broken glass scattered across the ground.

Tim landed on top of one of the cars, breaking the windshield under his weight. Jason wasn’t so lucky, rolling across the cold cement with it hitting his helmet, enough to expose his face.

And Dick, with it not helping his arm at all, landed right against the fenced border and fell to the ground. Some wire sticking out might have impaled his skin.

He was breathing. Was he still breathing? There was throbbing. Redness. Blood that went to his eyes, most probably. He could hear his heart and basically the rest of his senses going haywire.

When he looked up, already Tim could stand, right on top of the cars.

Now lacking his Bo staff, Tim smashed the broken metal beneath his feet and pulled out a slab hard enough to break bones.

Tim:

If Dick were smart, he should have let him die.

This was always how he was, how this was all going to boil down to. His so many ways of dealing with loss, heartbreak, and stress, it was never going to hold him back enough if he hadn’t an outlet. And this, tonight, this was all part of the inevitable. He did what he promised Y/N. He kept off the coffee and had eight hours of sleep every day. But did it mean it warded off his thoughts on her? On his brothers? On their betrayal and how much he’d been holding that all off for months? Not even close. In fact, they grew worse.

Who does he start with?

Dick was all the way over at the fence. Wounded. Dislocated arm. He pulled himself up and went for a wall he could smash his shoulder against just to pull back the bone.

And Jason.

Shit.

Should have went for him first.

Two glocks in his hands. This man wasn’t afraid in the slightest.

“Jason, don’t!” Dick cried. Too late. He already shot one of the cars.

Tim spun about just to dodge at least the shattered glass. He was aiming for his legs, at all the parts of his body that wouldn’t be so lethal. How kind of him.

Which meant, that if it were the vital parts of him exposed, Jason wouldn’t shoot.

So he didn’t even try to hide himself, his chest especially, when he hurled himself over the many car hoods and roofs. Jason kept going, and this time he went to shooting the glass on purpose. Probably to hit him with the shards.

Tim reached the wall and pushed his feet so he’d roll on the ground. Cape up, he looked through the many places to hide, but he didn’t want to hide. What he wanted was to grab one of them, any of them, by the shoulders, pin them to the ground, and have his fist have at it with their stupid faces.

He ran up to Jason, cape protecting his legs and arms, and just as he did Dick had crept up behind him, grabbing Jason by a headlock. Elbow to Dick’s chest, he took that as a chance to grab his guns and throw them over to the side. So close did he miss one of the bullets, if grazing his shoulder was ever a miss. But he ignored that hiss and landed a hit on Jason’s stomach.

But not even that could last long, with Jason practically subdued. Dick set Jason aside to block Tim’s fist from landing anywhere near either of them. He kept hitting, swinging, it was all a blur after the third time he felt his shoulders hurt. And Grayson’s was no better. So he aimed for it.

What was he doing?

Foot landing on Dick’s pelvis. It was enough for his body to skid across the ground. He looked up at his brother, teeth gritting so much that it hurt, Tim didn’t move fast enough before he could move away from Dick’s fist, which landed a good one right to his teeth.

Jason:

This was the most ridiculous fight he’s ever been on. No different from a fucking pellet gun war over at the gardens that one time they were drunk and stupid. This was a game, one he really didn’t want to play. He should have known, and what he thought that time was that somehow, she was worth going through all this chaos for. That moment of bliss, that month of beauty and serenity and peace, was it worth this? With his own brothers?

It wouldn’t have been if it was just a month of beauty and serenity and peace. But it wasn’t just about that anymore, was it?

So this had to be worth it. In every way. With Dick and Tim over a few yards away, Dick holding his shoulder and trying so hard to avoid being hit there and Tim so unruly and angry and being so taken over with his rage, not at all was he anything like this before tonight.

He had the choice. To grab the gun that had skidded over to his side, shoot them both in the shoulder to put everything to a stop, or join in on their rumble to drag this out as long as inhumanely possible. Three different men who knew exactly what the others’ moves will be, this wasn’t going to last very long if it were to be a good way.

But, if this were to be dealt with bullets, he can say goodbye to either of them of ever being his brother again, to never be a part of this family so hard to love but love nevertheless.

He stopped his hand from reaching for the gun, and with that, he started for the two.

Jason grabbed Tim’s ankle just before it would have landed on Dick’s chin, threw him to the side so he’d land on the floor.

Dick’s fist, which would have hit Tim, instead hit Jason right at the nape of his neck. He almost toppled over to the ground, and with that flash of rage, he struck back at Dick right at his bad shoulder. Might have been too far. But he didn’t care.

Tim hit his back, right up against his sharp knee. He cried out at the unnerving bellows that went straight to his head, picked himself up just before he hit the ground.

Another hit for his head, but Dick had stopped it with his own hand, twisted Tim’s ankle so he’d once again lose his balance and fall.

Three different men.

Three different fights.

Three men who knew each other far too well to be beaten so easily.

They jostled and rolled about, around the junkyard over so many of the cars and the broken glass and even the fence that had long blown over. This wasn’t at all supposed to be what they’d spend the night on, but with the slabs of metal being thrown, the cars almost hurled up with their peak human strength, their limbs flailing, some barely missing a nerve on their head and some wrecking a whole tooth out of their mouth, it was not, to even some capacity, ever going to end as well as any of them hoped.

And with them at the middle of the barren empty grounds, Jason dodging Dick’s fist only to meet Tim’s knee, Dick being absolutely smothered by Tim’s head smashing against his, and Tim being pinned to the ground by either of his brothers larger than him that he hated so much.

It all would have ended in death, after the kind of blur that clouded so much of their moral thought and any kind of sense at all to remind them of what they were doing, if not for something far too strong for them to easily swerve from.

Or, better yet, three things too strong for them to swerve from.

At a whiff so quick for any of them to have possibly even sensed, a flash of purple was the first to wave off that blur from their eyes. And it went for Tim.

Stephanie was first to subdue him, holding Tim down with her knee landing right at the small of his back. He cried out both at the shock he hadn’t expected and the pulsing pain that probably went all the way up his spine, but he was done. Steph had grabbed Tim’s head and pinned him down right against the floor.

The next one was Dick, and before any of them could even turn, something so brightly blinding, a figure of yellow, fell from one of the cars’ hood and grabbed Dick by the neck. Duke was smaller, but not at all was that some disadvantage. His huge armored arms, locking Dick enough for him to just flail his hands about, it was enough to make him stop.

And, just as he expected, the next thing he saw after that flash of a second he was spared, was a blur of black so silently creeping up on him, Jason couldn’t move even when he knew it was coming. No one could have seen it. Not even him. By the next second, he was bent over one of the cars, hands to his back, and Cassandra had a taser stuck to his hip.

“NO, NO, NO, CASS DON’T-“

Barely enough to fry him unconscious, but enough to fucking electrocute his skin off so his muscles could barely move.

Dick:

This should all have ended sooner than it even happened.

And the shame crept in, not even when he stopped struggling against Duke’s hold on him, but when Barbara, the last to come into the scene, flew in from the window right across.

She looked like she wanted to murder all three of them by a rope around their necks. One single rope. Having three just wouldn’t be worth it.

She took off her cowl and let her red hair fall to her back, so they’d easily see just how disgusted she looked at them all, at the look on her eyes, at the look on all their eyes.

“Duke, let me go-“

“I’m sorry, Dick.”

“Please.”

“If we could, Nightwing,” Babs swallowed. “I’ll have you tied to that streetlamp for the rest of the night.”

Jason tried to reach for something in the car just to kick Cass away, but she tased him again. Some smoke flew up from his flesh.

“Cass, that’s enough,” Babs said.

Cass glared at them all, then settled to just holding Jason down with his arms.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on with you three?”

“Maybe if you get your foot out of my head, Steph, I’d actually get my brain back and answer her question,” Tim said.

“You lost your brain when you fell down that building.”

“You saw that?”

Steph snorted. “You’re lucky I didn’t jump in until I had all of us on call.”

“Lucky?!”

Steph twisted Tim’s arm and his cries could be heard over to the next block.

Jason tried, again, to break free from Cass’s hold, but her fist wasn’t one to welcome when it landed much like a bat would’ve right up against Jason’s head.

And Tim, who almost pried Steph’s knee from against his back, was just pinned down again not even a second after breaking free.

They were too tired to go up against any of them.

So Dick, knowing there was no other, prettier way out of this, let go of his hands from gripping too hard on Duke’s arm. He didn’t let go, but it had loosened, enough for him to properly talk. Babs went over to him. That dagger-infested glower stuck through, but at least there was some appreciation for his lack of resistance.

“It was a misunderstanding-“

“Was it?!”

Babs clenched her jaw.

“This is about her, isn’t it-“

Tim’s voice echoed. “No!”

Tim:

He growled and shoved Steph’s hand away, but they kept on his arms, pushing them down against his spine. She was strong enough to subdue him, stronger now that he was exhausted and his muscles were all strained, but that didn’t mean he was, in any way, going to back down from this fight. This wasn’t over.

He could crane his head up enough to look at Babs.

“This is about these two traitors who lied to my face for months!”

Steph was having too much trouble keeping him down. “Tim!”

“Are you really going to take their side?!”

“No one is taking anyone’s side here.”

Babs eyed Cass at least to make her loosen her grip on Jason’s twisted arms. Cass rolled her eyes, sighed, and still without a word, she grabbed Jason by the back of his collar to make him stand. But it wasn’t without her taser stuck up to his side.

“Cass, I’m not gonna fucking fight you-“

“Just shut up, Jay,” Dick said, and with that, Duke tightened his arm.

“They wanna know,” Tim panted. “Tell them all why we’re in this mess.”

His voice, all broken and rageful and so unlike what anyone would have thought. It turned the heads of everyone around. Steph loosened her hand around Tim’s neck much out of her own disbelief.

“Stabbing me in the back the way you did…”

“Tim, you don’t have to-“ Babs went on, but Tim’s screams were too much.

“Tell them! Say why you’re all a bunch of ass-“

“You’re the one who wanted this to be some shitshow!” Jason’s teeth shouldn’t last long with how much he was gritting them when he hissed and snarled at Cass, who poked the taser just beneath his hip.

“Cass, enough with the taser.”

“Yeah, Cass,” Jason said. “Where the hell did you even get that?”

“Some douchey police officer over at Chinatown,” Duke said to him while still keeping his hands on Dick.

Something so foreign, so unruly and aggressive, it was taking too much control over him. Tim’s eyes were burning, and there weren’t even any tears. His blood pulsed through every vein, strong enough for it to hurt, and loud enough for him to hear it through his bloodied ears.

Tim pushed Steph away and for a moment, he was free. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. He just wanted his hands squeezing the voice out of Jason’s neck.

Babs grabbed him by the cape just as Steph caught up, and again he was on the floor. Still, he screamed, thrashed about because everything within him just yelled for him to finally let it out. He was done being the nice guy, done being the brother they both pushed around, took advantage of, lied to, and picked on because they knew he’d never fight back.

“Tim…” Babs helped Steph holding him down. She looked up at Dick. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing we can't sort out!”

“Jesus, Dick,” Jason snorted. “You haven’t said one smart thing all day.”

“Like you're any better, you asswipe.”

“Enough!”

Babs stood right between them, otherwise they’d have lunged for each other even if they had a missile launcher aimed for their heads.

“Let me go. Duke,” Dick said. “I’m not gonna fight any of you-“

“Yeah, three seconds ago you were close to running Jason’s head through a windshield.”

“Just let me go and we’ll all calmly-“

“Calmly?” Duke laughed. “I saw you fall down that building from where I stood. None of you know what calm is.”

Duke’s voice was stern and not at all did he sound like he’d trust him enough for that, no different than Steph’s or even just the look in Cass’s eyes. Because, if anything, other than the utter disgust, disdain, and disappointment, everything before them was something not to easily believe.

Not long after, before anything even happened, before Tim heard that first trace of a large black cape and the heavy soles that would have broken the cement floor underneath if he hadn’t purposely landed so swiftly, with the shadow that wasn’t in fact a shadow, but a suit so terrifying, dark, and so close to invisible, it was the night in a physicality no two people could similarly describe.

Tim knew he’d get here first, before anyone else even turned their heads. Because he stopped with his cries and faced his untimely doom. Face to the ground, quiet and unmoving. Everyone else followed but that was after he’d already appeared.

Not even anyone from the likes of the worst villains had seen the look on Bruce’s face as close to the one he had right then.

Jason:

If he were alone, he’d just have snorted. The look on Grayson and Drake’s face. Couldn’t be drawn.

He’s seen that same frown on Bruce every time he shoots a damn gun, which was every night. He could paint it by memory and he wouldn’t miss a detail. The squinted white of his eyeholes, his lips forlorn and flat. His hands, clenched enough for it to hurt, hidden beneath his cape. Oh, Dad. Did I do that?

These guys just needed some getting used to.

And he shouldn’t be amused at the fact that at least, for once, he wasn’t the only one in trouble this time. Tim looked ashamed. Dick looked like he’d seen a ghost. Dick should have known this, at least. He’s steered up a few times of trouble himself. Nothing like what he’s done, that’s for sure. But he shouldn’t be so stricken. Still, he was, which made it all the more inappropriate if he were to smirk right then.

Damian was right beside him. He wasn’t entertained, or intrigued, what he usually was watching his father tell off his brothers. In fact, he looked bothered. Like they’d just taken so much of his time away from what he’d rather be doing, which apparently was more interesting than this.

Ah. Of course. An out-of-town mission. Just Batman and Robin. They left Babs in charge. Probably why she looked just as horrified as Dick, hands to her side and keeping the slight shake of her palms hidden. It seems she prepared for anything to happen on patrol that night, anything Bruce prepared her for being the boss. What they hadn’t prepared for, apparently, was them.

“Batman, I-“ Babs swallowed. “We have this under control. You can go back to-“

“Let them go.”

Chills down everyone’s wobbly spines at his growling voice proved more terrifying under the filter near his neck. Everyone except Jason, of course. But he can't be so relaxed. Cass was getting suspicious. He just felt her hands tighten even more around his wrists.

But perhaps, he should be afraid. He’s gotten into mounds of trouble, but it was never anything like this.

He snorted again. They hadn’t hurt anybody. It was just them three and their lack of brain. They’ll be fine.

He hoped.

“Bruce, they’re trying to kill each other-“

“They can try.”

Babs, right then, might be the one to kill them right after. Maybe with her bare hands. Maybe with a truck. With a deathly, silent scowl at all of them, she nodded.

Duke was first to let go of Dick, and with that a pat on the back. Dick rubbed the back of his neck, stayed put and didn’t even step away. He was relaxed. Ashamed, but relaxed. He just stretched out his limbs and already everyone was satisfied.

Next, it was Jason. With a reluctant Cass finally letting him go, and the taser, Jason tumbled over to the nearest car hood just to keep himself up. That fucking taser robbed him of his knees. How many volts was that thing?

Finally, Steph swung her legs over from holding down Tim’s body and helped him up. She dusted off his back, apologized under her breath. He probably had a lot to say if it weren’t for the seven other pairs of eyes on him, watching him from letting out so much as a twitch.

Tim didn’t shove her away so he could go back to poking Jason’s eyeballs out. He just stood there and stared at him like Jason and Dick were lucky everyone else was around. Which, he probably was. He wasn’t going to deny that.

The last people to be so afraid of Bruce were the three of them, the perpetrators, the reason for this little reunion. So instead of letting out something so cocky and unapologetic, something so at the borders of causing Bruce to have an aneurysm, not one mouth resisted from being kept shut. It was the kind of silence that wasn’t often expected from such an unusual family.

And Bruce looked at the three of them not with anger, or dismay, or even annoyance.

He looked disappointed.

Which, arguably, makes it a whole lot worse. Hell, even for him. He’s been yelled at since the day he came back and all of a sudden a little fight with his brothers is what brings him to shame.

Bruce was unmoving, so his voice startled and shook.

“All this…” he said. “For her…”

No one spoke. Not even a cricket. Even with the horns and sirens from afar, the bustle they couldn’t care less the only noise there was, it was deafening.

“Don’t you think you’ve disappointed her enough?”

Jason ignored the shattered edges of his helmet that poked on his cheek, ignored the blood it drew or the strain on his arms. Everyone did, perhaps.

“Go back to patrol.”

Batman left, as quickly as he’d come. Robin followed right behind him.

Batgirl turned around, nodded at her team, which was all there was out of her, out of anybody. They could see her fists clench, her eyes down and avoiding the others. The Signal flew out of the scene, Spoiler grappled up to the next rooftop, and Orphan disappeared out of thin air, without a word or even a grunt.

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Red Hood left that junkyard lot, and as the brothers they were, and dreadfully still are, they kept out of each other’s ways for the rest of that quiet night.

-----

What was so different about that night, and the many more nights that followed, was how they no longer had each other to turn to, even more now that it seemed they needed their brothers the most. Jason was, in the worst sense, used to the kind of isolation he was forced into after the matter. Dick had to learn to be alone, but it always had been better to have another’s shoulder to lean on and talk to. Tim, not so much. Not when he almost always turned to Y/N. And if not her, Dick. His older brother. One he once looked up to like a being unreachable, now a traitor he’d scoff at if he dared to show up.

So what they did, and what they were forced to do for several nights, was to deal with the cosmos and the whirlwind of thoughts all by their sorry selves. Dick usually could be found in training, spinning about in the uneven bars set up for him at the manor, have the sweat and the strain in his muscles force out whatever it was that bothered him into some physical outlet, how it often had been for many years as he appreciated himself for the care it brought. For the others, however, it wasn’t so much the same. Tim would spend all hours in the office and wouldn’t so much as nap even when his whole body tortured him to at least stop his back from being crouched so much. And Jason, well, had already drowned himself in booze, even more now that the reasons had faded clearer.

Alone in his apartment, over at the nook by the window where he usually spent the day with a book, now his mess of a hair would be plastered against the cold glass and the many bottles that surround him would block the surfaces of the cushion. It never actually got out of hand. He only ever drank to get rid of that noise blaring into his ear the way it was now, the way it was for all three of them.

And Tim couldn’t turn to that same comfort, or whatever it was that caffeine, stinging eyelids, and an unhealthy staring into a computer screen with an all nighter at the office would bring him. That night after the fight, he couldn’t sleep, even when he tried to. Which led to no one’s knowing, a cup of coffee when the day had risen and he was forced to go on with that said day like nothing happened. That cup would turn to two. Three. Eventually it dawned on him that he’d slept what he should have in a single day in a span of three.

Dick’s training, as it turned out, wasn’t so healthy at all. The strain in his wrists began a little over two hours ago. He’d been at the grounds for quadruple that time. For that day alone. Would it kill him if he didn’t stop? Probably not. Would it almost kill him? Probably. But he went on. Kept his hands busy. Forced himself to feel that exhaustion that should be taking his mind out of everything and not amplify it.

But this was only the beginning of what eventually would be that highway to descent, to some slope with no ladder to climb back up to, no guide for them to reverse and no light at the end that would eventually bring some alternative to the truth. They only had the truth to hold on.

Their brotherhood. One so strained. So complicated. One that took far too much time to build and rebuild. They couldn’t, not even if they wanted to, be apart from this family, deny that they were a part of it. They couldn’t escape each other’s presence no matter how many times they’d change their numbers or block out their trackers or find another city to live in. They couldn’t lose something that had grown too strong for them to fight against. That night, they tried. Or rather, the forces tried. The forces run by their bitter rivalry or the want for the same woman.

It was the fifth night after that fight, when Dick let go of the bars, finally giving his hands that rest too many hours overdue. He wiped his sweat, drank from his bottle, and pulled out his phone. That night, he thought it was enough, that this silence and bitterness and sheer negligence over their bond would eventually break for permanence. He knew that this coping was only just the beginning, and that it will, for everything he was certain about, would it become so much more, something so dark, that it would pull the whole family apart. He didn’t want that. For any of them. So that night, he sent a text to Tim and Jason.

Tim’s first account wasn’t on his brothers, though it had crossed his mind many more times than he would have hoped. His first thought, if anything, was how Y/N would have thought if he let himself fall. It’d be in his rule this time, that he wouldn’t let the caffeine get to him or reach to such extremes he’d never otherwise control. But Y/N wasn’t going to believe that, as nobody should. Hell, he probably shouldn’t place that much faith onto himself at all. Even if he does so much as lose an hour of sleep, one for every night until there wasn’t any hours left, if he allows himself one more cup when he had one just half an hour before, he knew it’d be just the beginning.

So, when he got that text from Dick, he realized it wasn’t worth much the risk.

He hated them both like he’s hated no one else, wanted them to realize just how much of a wreck their doings have imprinted on him and Y/N, how the consequences that followed weren’t nearly what they deserved at all. But if he doesn’t fight that hate, if he doesn’t find peace, it’ll be that darkness for him, that same life he hadn’t learned to control, one where he once lost himself to. and in turn, made him lose Y/N. And he’ll lose her again if he won't listen to that conscience. He texted Dick back and told him to meet him at Pauli’s.

Jason, on the other hand, acted as was expected of him. When he saw that text the first thing his lack of conscience told him was to get another phone and forget it all happened, disappear for another few months, show up when it was convenient, and hope that this all blows over before his escapism backfires.

But he never did get to bring himself to throw out his phone and get a new one, much less delete the text before he’s even seen it. A few days after, he let that daft little voice in him to open the text, allow himself a few seconds just to witness its premise. But he’d read through everything in that split second he allowed himself to. Dick didn’t really have much to say. And what else was to come next other than the few days of tussling and fighting and the many more bottles of booze that were not at all helping with those same voices that just wouldn’t shut up.

Was this all worth it? Was anything worth this at all?

Because those few years it took just to have any sort of a conversation with Dick, much more with Tim, certainly wasn’t a few years of a bond rebuilt that he wanted to go through again.

He loved them. In his own, twisted little way. He loved his brothers and actually would go out his way to save them from whatever horrors he’d been forced to face. That love didn’t have to be from occasionally hanging out in the holidays or spent an hour or two in a bar.

At least, in his conscience, if he were to die one day like he’d realize would happen again, knowing life wasn’t exactly his alone to spend and control, he’d know he did whatever was best for the people he loved.

So, despite Dick and Tim not at all expecting so much as a text back, they still had it in them to wait a few hours. In that dimly lit corner of Pauli’s, the aroma of freshly backed pancakes distracting them from their otherwise bland pickup from the rest of their senses. They waited, not hoping for the best.

Jason went into the diner and saw them, ordered a cup, then took a seat across Tim, with Dick in between.

That silence, the same for everyday for the past five, it was haunting and eerie, disturbing, uncomforting, one they knew they’d all have to settle if they wanted to move on and actually bring some light into whatever it was they’ve caused.

Jason didn’t take off his hoodie. Tim warmed his hands with his cup of hot chocolate. And Dick, knowing he’d have to start, cleared his throat and looked up.

Dick:

Seeing Tim walk through that door was a surprise enough, much more Jason coming along and not even was he three hours late. Fuck. Fuck. What does he even say? Where does he ever start? Should he even start?

Giving in to his impulses certainly was bad an idea. This was, in every way, what he should have expected when he picked up his phone and thought to call his brothers hoping it was the right thing to do. And, perhaps, it was the right thing.

But was he the right person to start it? Lead this conversation to the direction he wanted so they’d get to a better place? The one that pushed his impulses in the first place?

They were all too awfully silent. Tim’s had his second round of hot chocolate. He doesn’t even like hot chocolate that much. And Jason looks like he’s hiding himself from the cops with his hood down and neck craned to the table’s surface. He’s never been in anything more awkward and uncomfortable in his years. This was just humiliating.

But, he was sure, humiliation should be the first thing they’d have to go through. Setting their prides aside, talk with the other’s stories in mind and hope that by the end of this, it’ll at least be a bit better.

So he started, in the most bland, uneventful way, he tells them both.

“Thanks for coming,” Dick said.

Tim momentarily bit onto his lip, and Jason stayed motionless without so much as a nod. At least Tim glanced over at him, even when it was just a second.

“How are you, Tim?”

Tim’s finger traced over the brim of his cup. He’s finished it. Didn’t seem like he wanted to order another one.

“Alright. I guess.”

“Good. Jason?”

God, this was awful. He doesn’t even ask how their broken bones are healing after a life-threatening encounter in patrol. Hopefully this greyness wasn’t too weird, not when it should be the start of something even more difficult to overcome.

Jason’s order of coffee came into the table and it made Tim shift in his seat, leaning to the back to stay further away from its aroma. Jason took a sip. “Fine.”

As quiet as they possibly could. Dick wished he had something to order, even when it was just a piece of pie they’d displayed over at the counter. But he didn’t want to get up or even call a waitress.

He was, in the most obvious sense, ashamed. Ashamed that he wasn’t either of them, which he wished nothing more to be. He wished he was them so he wouldn’t have to be the man who’d hurt Y/N the most, when he was supposed to be who she’d turn for comfort, because they weren’t the man who’d been in love with her for so long, never thinking he’d have a chance. And when he did finally have her, even for a just a moment, when he finally got to kiss her that one time he’d been waiting for so many years, it all broke down and nearly diminished what he took years to build. Their friendship. Something so great yet so fragile, when their love never could be so easily set aside to make way for a friendly bond.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said, and his voice had gone softer. “I’m sorry I started a fight. And for being so angry. That was uncalled for.”

He did want all this to be right with them. Both of them. Two of his brothers he’s learned to love. And with that love comes many sacrifices.

“You don’t have to be sorry for being angry.”

“Would you like more hot cocoa?” The waitress came in with a pitcher. Tim declined, and she left.

He stared at the empty cup and rolled his lips.

“Yeah, I… I kinda do.”

Further into the day, the less people there were in the diner. And with that came more silence. There were half the people in there than when they’d first arrived. Soon enough, they’ll be the only ones left.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Then, without even a word, Dick and Tim turned over to Jason.

They didn’t expect him to apologize, or even say anything for that matter, possibly for the rest of the night.

But Jason shrugged, looked up at both of them in the eye, and he nodded. It was enough for them both to know what he meant.

Jason:

Get this over with. As quick as they possibly could. But he should know by now that this was going to take time. With how difficult it was. This wasn’t going to end any better than when they’d started if they rush through.

Jason took a sip out of his coffee and leaned his arms over on the table. Still, he didn’t take off his hoodie, as if he was going to take off not long from then.

“I don’t exactly know where to start,” Dick said. “But I think we should put this out there now.”

Neither of them looked him in the eye. He and Tim both stared at their cups as if it were any interesting.

“I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong. I’m just saying what I think is best.”

“It’s okay,” Tim said. “Just go on.”

This was harder than when they had to help out the League face Brainiac. And that certainly was something.

“I love Y/N.”

Okay. Wasn’t what he thought Dick would say. But okay.

“Tim loves her, too.”

Shit. Alright. So that’s what this motherfucker thinks he’s doing.

“And I for sure as hell know, that you love her as well, Jason-“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jason’s voice was deep, controlled, and as monotonous as he forced it to be. Without a flick of a lie or a speck of truth, as they both would have easily picked up if they listened to him hard enough. That is, if it worked. Which it probably hadn’t.

“We don’t know who she wants…” Dick said. “And frankly, I don’t think she does, too. At least for now.”

“It could be any of us.” Tim didn’t take his sight away from the blankness of the white table’s surface.

He can't take this. No. He never should have opened that text. This was a bad idea.

Y/N will choose one of them. Not him. Not when he was the one who fell in love with her far too late, realized just how perfectly imperfect and how she managed to be this little bundle of happiness for him that he never could find in another. Someone whose presence he yearned for on the days when he thought nothing could be okay. He realized all that when too late, when his brothers already cemented their places and have already gone out of their way to win her love. And, on top of all that, he was the one he didn’t have a close friendship as a ground for something to lean onto. They weren’t close. Not like she was with Tim. Not even with Dick.

“This is ridiculous,” Jason stood up from his seat with his cup half finished. “I’m leaving.”

“Jason-“

“Dick, I want no part of this-“

“You can deny it all you want, but what if she chooses you?”

“She won't choose me. That’s the point-“

“Everyone knows that’s just as much of a possibility than everything else. It didn’t even take much time, and already you’ve wooed her. You think we didn’t notice that?”

Jason stopped and faced the counter, away from his brothers.

“Just sit down.”

“Dick-“

“I know this hurts but what if she actually does choose you-“

“I don’t love her.”

“You do. And she might love you back.”

No. Don’t bring his hopes up like this. This fucking-

“And if she does, are you really going to turn her down?”

Jason closed his eyes. He had nothing to say.

“No matter what Tim and I do, if it’s you she wants, then it’s you who’ll make her happy. Do you honestly think I believe you won't at least take that chance?”

Nothing. No voices whispering into his conscience to fuck everything and leave. Nothing that told him what to do, much less what to say.

He just knew that whatever he was, it wasn’t nearly as strong as that one pull that forced him back on his seat.

This shitshow already hurts as it is. What’s a little more?

Tim:

There’s a chance for all of them.

That’s what has always been so hard for him to understand. Never would he have thought it to be true, but it was.

They were both good men, good people, and if he were honest, he’d admit to Y/N being lucky if she were ever to choose one of his brothers in the end. He never, ever wanted to admit that. Not even now.

But for so long, he’s ignored the fact that those choices might be for her happiness, for what she deserves, and that might not always be about Tim. That whatever it was he wouldn’t admit to himself didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Y/N smiles like no other with Dick and no one else understood her like Jason. Even if Tim were her best friend, even if they had together from the very beginning, even if he probably loved her the most. It won't be about that.

So he has to accept all this.

And if it meant her happiness, then that hurt will be a lot easier to deal with.

“He’s right,” he said, and his two older brothers looked up at him.

“I’ve always thought you two… Well, I wish I was in your place. Not always. But, right now I do.”

They were confused to say the least. They didn’t look like they understood. Tim was the one who got to be with her, had years of calling her his love, had her love in return and have her actually show it the same way he did.

But that was just that. He had her. And now he didn’t. Because of him. Because he had her and was stupid enough to let her go, something neither of his brothers would have done if they were him.

And he wanted to laugh at the looks of both their faces. They didn’t have to say anything at all, but he understood. They envied each other in so many other ways, too complicated to map out. Because they’ve all done their own grievances, done so much that they regret.

Which is why this had to happen. Because no one knew what was going to happen next.

“I know it’s hard for all of us…” Dick said. Tim stared out at the window to see the start of the cold evening. “But we’re brothers. I don’t know about you both, but I don’t want this to tear us all apart.”

It already did, he wanted to say.

But it might not be true. It might not be too late. This brotherhood could still be salvaged. And in a way, it might be worth all that hurt.

“The last few weeks have been hard… for all of us… taken its toll on the rest of the family. And we’ve worked too hard on each other. I don’t…” Dick swallowed. “I don’t want to lose Y/N, but I don’t want to lose both of you either.”

It was easier for him to shut his eyes closed.

Neither do I, Tim thought.

“But… Y/N deserves to be happy… We’ve put her through too much.

“And if it means being with the one she loves, one of us, then so be it. We’re done making her decisions. We don’t decide between the three of us. If she wants to choose, then she gets to choose. And we won't have a say in any of it. She decides if it’s one or none of us at all. She deserves this.”

Jason finished his coffee. He no longer sat so stiff.

Tim sat back on his chair and stared out the window.

“And whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. As brothers. We’ll have each other. It’ll be okay. We’ll make it okay.”

That cold night of late November had the first snowdrop of the year. It was light, subtle, and one would have missed it if they weren’t looking out for too long. But they saw it, and never had something so gentle calm what used to be this rageful storm, not since Y/N.

They hadn’t spoken another word in that diner. But for many hours, they stayed.

They continued to wait for many months. They were patient.

October. November. December. January passed.

And on that day of the second week of February, a day Y/N once loved and hated at different times, they put an end to that waiting.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST

-----

A/N: I honestly can’t wait for the finale. AHHHH

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

224 notes · View notes

abluescarfonwaston · 3 years

Note

Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.

Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.

Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.

Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.

The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.

There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.

These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.

They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.

And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.

The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.

This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.

Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.

It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.

I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.

I know that very well.

But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.

The wolf slips in the door behind him.

Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"

The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.

"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"

And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.

He has always been a good shot.

It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.

He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.

He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.

I love you doppler. I could love you too.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."

There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.

"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."

"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.

"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."

"No the other part."

"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."

"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"

He shrugged. "His dog went after him."

His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.

The wolf went after Jaskier.

Jaskier is alone.

With the wolf.

In a snow storm.

Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.

The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.

He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.

How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?

He pulled his doublet tighter around him.

Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.

Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.

Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.

The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.

There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.

"You found him?"

Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.

"... Thank you."

There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.

"I think... That druid overpaid."

He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.

Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.

Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.

The dam breaks.

"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.

"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.

"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"

"Jask-"

"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"

"Jaskier!"

His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.

"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."

He scowled harder at Geralt.

"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"

"... Vaguely."

A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.

You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?

What food do you have on you?

Uh.

Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.

No that's not- perhaps the law of su-

No. No. Lie. That will be enough.

It's not!

"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."

He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."

He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"

Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."

"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"

"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."

"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."

"Mhmm."

"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."

"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."

"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"

Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.

Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.

"She was repaying the favor."

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."

Neither Geralt met his eye.

"Geralt...?"

"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."

Right.

"But then why-"

A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.

I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.

They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.

The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.

I love you Jaskier.

Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.

"Oh."

He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.

"Tell me again."

Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."

"Tell you...?"

"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.

It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.

"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.

And this time. This time he believed him.

"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."

Geralt leaned down and did.

He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.

I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.

Mine did.

#writing #the white wolves #geraskier

49 notes · View notes