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#i WOULD save this one version that i'm writing for a different fic but like.......
ranger-kellyn · 2 years
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was working on a fic outline, having a ton of fun, thinking it was going to be fun to write and just make me reALLY happy. right up until i realized one thing.
one simple thing.
if i wrote this fic this way, it would mean siebold and diantha aren't besties and like. the wAY THAT WRECKED ME...........
so needless to say i will be rewriting this whole fic JUST so they can be besties
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compressingsins · 12 days
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|| Deceiving Intentions
Yandere Nanami x chubby animal hybrid f!reader
Warnings : Obssesion, partially forced relationships, slight manipulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, aggressive Nanami, reader goes into her first heat, slight physical contact, overprotective Nanami, Nanami is a little mean for a while, overstimulation. This is a smutty fic, MDNI.
"I've loved you for so long, okay? When I had the luck of being awarded for you at that place, it felt as if I was saving you. And ever since, I've wanted you to love me just as much as I love you. Do not question my love, I will always love you. It wasn't just the sex talking, I'm in love with you."
Hi guys! Here's another post, and I really enjoyed how this one turned out. Hopefully you all enjoy it too, because it was very fun to write!
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Please do not copy or rewrite my works without my permission. 🫥
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Life felt almost too unreal. You lived in a world where your kind were treated like nothing, just like the historical books you would read. The things you could do in life were limited, and your kind was scared of this forsaken world. People bought your kind, sold your kind, traded your kind for better versions of you. If you were bought, you'd either be a full time house cleaner with no payment, pretty much a slave to the person who purchased you.
That's why you were thankful to have grown ups in this village. A sanctuary where your kind resides. Human hybrids in every different shapes and sizes, living life freely amongst each other. Here, nothing could harm you in any kind of way. Plus, no human dared to come from the big cities just to mess with you all. There were fully bred hybrids, which were hybrids with all the human stature but everything else was an animal, a creature of some kind.
It was normal to you because well, you are one of them. Except, you're the extremely rare kind. You're a dog hybrid, but you didn't have all the aspects. You only had a set of fluffy ears and a dog like tail that could easily be hidden. Which is why it was so easy for you to get in and out the city. You could wear pants to hide the fact that you have a tail, and a hat or hood to hide your prestige ears. You had ears a top your head, and the set of normal human ears on the sides of your head.
That's how you knew about the historical events of slavery. You're able to hide your animal features and go into library's to read books that recorded the past. Even in the books, your kind was around long ago and treated the exact same way. Not only that, but most slaves were your color as well, brown beautiful skin that glistened in the sunlight. You didn't know why humans hated your kind so much, but you weren't going to risk having the conversation.
Slavery to brown skin people was long gone so that's something you didn't have to worry about, but slavery to human hybrids was still very much alive. You would think being the year 2020 that all slavery was dead, but the government just can't help but be afraid of your kind from not only looks, but because they think life wouldn't be civilized with you all in it. They think you all couldn't hold up to their expectations, because you have animal in you.
They fear you all could go feral and use those instincts on humans and that may be true, but you know that instincts are in every breathing creature that walks this earth. So you didn't think that'd be a problem, but that's not for you to decide. Everything in your village, however, was perfect. You lived like anyone who was civilized would, having breakfast, sometimes lunch, and then dinner. You did everything like a human would do.
As far as you were concerned, your life was perfect. Your people were great at crafting, so all the buildings that you resided in were built with hardly any tools. You had brick walls, metal walls, living modernity and it was all because your people knew the way to do so. Your people even had paint, so the buildings and house were all different colors. Plus, you had clothing stores, but you all had no money. Your people hunt in exchange for clothes, furniture, utensils, and more.
And what made it more fun was that it was just activities that you all loved, hunting, fishing, and so much more. After all, you had animal in you, so hunting was just in your nature. You decided that you would go into the city today, Sendai City. Your tribe was very discreet about its location, so trying to find it was hard for most people. You always made sure to cover your tracks when you leave, so that's what you did.
It was early in the morning, maybe around eight o'clock in the morning you would say. So you had so much time to enjoy the day. You made sure to have on pants that held your tail down, and a hat a top your head to cover your ears. You were ready to go into the world of the humans, to see what new things they had to offer today.
...
...
...
September 12th, 2020 - 8:42 a.m.
It was the middle of autumn, here you were in the city now seeing normal people obliviously walking around you. They couldn't even tell that you were a human hybrid, but that wasn't for them to know. Everything was going great, the cool wind in the air accompanied by the beautiful sounds of birds chirping. You never knew that the world of humans could look so peaceful when they weren't worrying about your kind.
The only thing you really wanted to see is the new aquarium that you've heard about in the newspapers that you sometimes read, when you're visiting here.
There were so many things to see here, but you didn't want to stay too long because your tribe would be wondering about you all day long. So you just decided that you would ask someone for directions to the aquarium. There were lots of people, but you decided that you'd rather ask a woman. There was a woman with brown hair, next to a kid who had pink hair and also a guy with black spiky hair. They were arguing, but you decided that you would approach them carefully.
First you cleared your throat, "Um, excuse me? Hello?"
The woman with the brown hair turned to you, with a slightly irritated look on her face. "Yeah, what's up?"
"Do you know where the new aquarium is? I don't recall its name, but I just know it's an aquarium that was recently opened." She looked at you and nodded like a light clicked in her head. "Oh you do? Do you mind giving me directions there, if it's not a problem?"
"Nah, it's no problem. So first," She started as she stood close beside you, pointing straight ahead of you, "It's really not too fair, just a couple blocks down the street that way. And then you're gonna take a left."
You smiled and thanked her, "I appreciate your help—uhhhh?"
"Nobora. And that's Yuji and Megumi. We'd join ya, but we're on our way to see our sensei for training."
"Oh, it's fine I'm only gonna be there for about 20 minutes and that's it." You didn't have a lot of time so you just went ahead and started to be on your way, "Sorry to rush off, but I gotta go! Maybe I'll see you guys again!"
The woman formerly known as Nobora waved back at you, watching you jog to the aquarium you were previously talking about. It didn't take you long to get there, however, so here it was. You were standing in front of the aquarium, but you decided not to go in. Why, well there was a sign to the left of the entrance.
"Everyone should be able to enjoy the aquarium, right? That's why we have a window view of our aquatic creatures, come check them out for FREE!"
You were excited, running to the left of the aquarium to see this ginormous window displaying each and every animal in there. There were dolphins, seals, whales, crocodiles and more! You carried a journey with you everywhere, so you pulled it out and started writing about everything you saw. Every fish, amphibian, reptile and more. You've never been so excited in your life, smiling from ear to ear.
You even sketched how the animals looked that way when you get home, you can ask all your elders about them. You know they have stories so you couldn't wait to ask them about 'em. Closing your journal, you decided that it was time to head back home. You smiled at the animals once more before turning to leave. It was still the morning time so you weren't worried, you know you weren't gone that long. You had a peaceful walk back home, until you heard screaming in the distance.
You knew exactly where it was coming from, so you decided to run as fast as you could. "Shit, oh no!" You couldn't think of how this happened so quickly, you were only gone in the matter of thirty minutes. As you approached your village, you saw how there were masked men attacking your people, not killing them but injuring them. You knew it wouldn't be smart to try and fight people who were wielding swords. You sat in a bush behind a tree, shaking.
It hurt you to see your people getting slaughtered in broad daylight. You knew what this was though, another raid but you just couldn't tell by who. They weren't very apparent about who they were, since they were wearing all black outfits. You held your breath, hoping that they didn't get into the underground sanctuary that you guys previously made due to raids. It was underground in one of the houses, hidden very well. It was agreed that the wine and children were to go in there and the men stay out and defend their honor, if a raid happens.
You couldn't spot any women or children so you guess they were safe. You continued observing everything, watching your people fight their hardest but still falling. You could see that this was another "taken," that y'all called it. It was when your people would get taken back to the city in shackles, to get auctioned off to rich men and women. They took more hybrid men than women due to the nature of believing a man is superior to a woman.
Blood was no longer being shed, all you could hear was the people chattering and your people groaning from pain. You could hear them saying that the buildings were clear, and that there were fifteen men who were in shackles at the moment. That meant some of the men were down there protecting the women and children. You signed of slight relief, but still you dreaded when these raids to place. You were relieved until—
"Unless you want those ears to be cut clean off your head, you better not move, abomination." A sword was on your shoulder, threatening to slice you up. You gulped harshly, feeling a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. "Turn around slowly, or I'll kill you right here." You did just that, showing this person you weren't a threat. You could tell by the voice that it was a man. "Oh—what do we have here? You're one of those rare hybrids, I see. Shit." You saw how he rubbed his crotch, indicating something you didn't want to think about. "There's no one around. Wanna be a good girl and bend over for me? You're so chunky and plump. I wonder how well that ass will take me in doggy."
Your entire body shuddered from fear. He tugged on his trousers until he pulled them under his underwear, showing you how hard he was.
"Hey! Leave that damn hybrid alone, we're only doing this for a paycheck, not lawsuits. It would be rape, and that's not what the fuck we're here for you asshole." You were literally sighing of relief when this person came to save you, and you could tell it was a woman. She pushed him and made him stumble, "Get back to the group and gather up the hybrids. We're going back to the city to auction them off, understood?"
The man walked away grumbling under his breath, sounding like he was cursing her for not letting him act on what he was planning to do. She gave her hand to you, helping you stand and sheathing her sword. "Look, if it wasn't my job I would let you go. But I have a family, so you have to come with me, okay? Just cooperate and—everything will be fine I hope. Here, just put your hands behind your back..."
You weren't going to fight against her, so you just followed along. She shackled your arms together, before walking you towards the rest of the group. There was some kind of large vehicle parked a distance away from your village, enough to fit a lot of people inside it which you assumed your people was already in there. And you were right, the woman escorted you to the vehicle and pushed you gently inside, you just took a seat beside one of your people. They all looked at you in disbelief, knowing they couldn't believe you got caught. But no one dared to say anything.
And neither did you.
...
...
...
9:37 a.m. - Auction
You couldn't believe you were here, getting bidding on alongside your family. They were being bought pretty rapidly, and mostly by women. You were the last one, now, standing there listening to the auction man talk about you like a prize winning bull.
"Ah, yes, the rare hybrid. Look at her, isn't she beautiful?" He spoke about you like you weren't even there. You saw how all the men lit up like flames in a pit fire, betting high on you. "She's gorgeous. Men, she could clean your entire house, cook you dinner, hehe—if you tame her right!" They shared a laugh with the man, staring at you like vile beasts. "I guess we can start the bid at 10,000 dollars, yeah?" Everyone agreed, and you hated that. This was disgusting, it made you physically sick to your stomach but you held it in. "Come on, who wants her? She could even get your wick wet if your wife ain't cutting it, am I right fellas?!"
You wished you could fight, but there was nothing that you could physically do. Your arms were tied behind your back, so your only option was to stand there without saying a thing. Then the numbers started flying out of their mouths. There were— 20,000 , 30,000 , 40,000 , 50,000 , 60,000 , 70,000's and more! The last number was 100,000, which was just outrageous.
"100,000 going once, going twice, and so—"
"500,000 dollars."
Not only did your eyes go wide, everyone audibly gasped aloud and turned to see a tall man with blonde hair, shades on, and a stylish suit. He was staring you down, like he's been eyeing you for some time now. "Woah, that's the biggest bid we've EVER had! 500,000 going once, going twice, and sold to the tall blonde man!" Everyone clapped as he won, like he was winning a prized possession, but you however was just filled with defeat.
He walked towards you, completely towering over you which frightened you quite a bit. He stared down at you from above, before grabbing a hold of your bicep. Your entire world just felt like it came crashing down, all sounds and voices being almost non existent. All you could see was your feet walking until you reached another vehicle, this was really real. You never thought you would be in this situation, but you guessed it didn't feel real until it actually had happened to you. The man pushed you inside and closed the door after you. He then went to the other side and closed it behind him.
The sound of an engine is what made you look up. The ride was quiet, he didn't say anything and didn't acknowledge you at all. It's like you weren't even there. Out of no where, it began to rain, and that was the only sound that was heard on the inside and outside of the vehicle. You were still shackled, hands tied together in an uncomfortable way behind your back. You didn't know how long the ride was, only that it didn't take you long to get to the destination he had set for you two.
You saw a house that was in a secluded area. It was a pretty decent size, medium and cozy looking. He pulled his vehicle into a pathway that was made of what looked like to be concrete. You were familiar with a bit of human creations, so you knew that it was concrete. But that wasn't important, the man turned off his vehicle, and stepped outside of it. The rain had died down but was still very apparent. He walked over to your side and opened the door for you. He grabbed your arm gently and pulled you out, closing the door behind you and locking it. That's when he pulled you with him to walk up to his home, you were assuming it was his at least.
He let your arm go momentarily as you two stood before the door, digging in his pocket to pull something out. It looked like a set of keys that he fiddled with until he found the right one that was able to fit into the keyhole. He turned it and pushed the door open, pulling you inside then closing and locking the door behind you both. He let your arm go and walked away, only to turn on a light before he came back to you. He stood before you, observing everything about you with an unreadable look.
He had another key in his hand, "Hands." He said, watching as you slowly and hesitantly lifted them up. He grasped the shackles and put the key in, turning it which opened and dropped to the floor. Your hands were free, you were happy he released you but you were still afraid of him. "Nanami." He saw how your head tilted in curiosity, "My name. What's yours? You talk?"
You nodded and answered, "My name is ____."
"Hm." He grumbled, sounding like he was bitter for some reason. "Follow me." And you did just that. He was walking around, "This is my home." He told you, showing you around the place, showing you every room his house consists of. "This is your room. You live here now, with me. Your room has a restroom so if you need to use it, feel free." You hated the words, "You live here now," because you wanted to go to your home. His home was lovely, but you didn't feel comfortable here.
He saw how your dog ears drooped from sadness, but he didn't say anything. "Come on, let's go get you something to eat." You didn't muster a word, just followed him as he walked to what seemed to be his kitchen. "I will cook you something, take a seat." You did just that, sitting down and just staring down at the table before you. "How old are you?" He asked.
"22 in human years."
"Your kind uses dog and human years, too?" You just nodded, which he solely said, "Interesting." It was silent for a while, the only sound being from the equipment he was cooking with. You didn't know what he was making, but it smelt delicious. You wanted to ask him questions—so you did.
"Why did you buy me? And for so much money? Why do you humans do this to us? We should have equal rights just like you!"
He didn't seem phased by your outburst, he just kept cooking. But he cleared his throat first before coming to sit before you. He decided to take off his suit jacket, tie, and glasses. "I live in a home where I get lonely, no companionship from anyone. So before I die from the loneliness of depression, I was suggested something new. To buy a hybrid at an auction event."
"But why me specifically?!"
"Hm, that's quite easy. You're a rare hybrid. You have human in your dna, meaning that it'll feel normal living with you. It'll just be like I have a roommate. The walls of this home will be more live than before, and that's what I've been looking for." He was giving very stoic and unpleasant answers to you. "Secondly, I can't even tell you why humans do this to your kind. But nowadays, they're trying to make it mandatory that everyone has a hybrid to help around the house, become pretty much servants to a master."
It's crazy that everything just gets more and more worse for your people with each passing day. "So what, you bought me because it's the law? That you're supposed to have one of us?!"
He shrugged, "Maybe that, and because I have sympathy for your people." That took you a back, and he could physically see that. "I've come across hybrids before, never have I once felt threatened by one. But my voice alone won't change where the government stands with your race. And I'm not the only one who thinks that. There's a lot like me who wouldn't mind if you lived amongst us, but we have barely any say in the matter."
You stared bug eyed at him, listening to him speak about you in a way that wasn't bad which was a first. He stood up and went back to his cooking equipment.
"I have some students who want your race free so desperately but as I've stated before, our voices do not matter." Nanami continued cooking, neither of you speaking for the time being until he said something weird— "You're very beautiful. May I ask you how do your kind feel about a human mate?"
Was that what he wanted?
A hybrid companion?
Really..?
You were hesitant before speaking, "I—well honestly, I've never heard my people speak about that. I guess it's okay since some of us like myself have human in my dna. I'm guessing it comes with a great deal of trust."
"That's good to know."
That was all he said before going back to cooking. He was putting the food on plates, it looked like, and you couldn't help but feel your tail start wagging from how hungry you actually were. He heard it thudding as it swung back and forth against the chair you were sitting in.
"Hungry, I see. Here." He placed a lot full of food before you. You had an extravagant nose, so you could tell that it wasn't chicken, but duck with mashed potatoes, some kind of pasta, and a drink you've never seen before. He watched how you sniffed it like a dog would, placing his own plate in front of his spot so he could eat too. He handed you something, it was silver with an oval like end. "This is a spoon. You use it on your mashed potatoes and pasta. Like this."
He demonstrated, by grasping his own spoon and scooping up his food, placing it to his lips and eating it delicately. You looked down at your spoon and then your food, and tried to do the same thing but failed. You were holding it in an improper way, which made him cough up a small chuckle before standing. "First, you place it under your thumb and let it rest on top of your index finger. Then get a good grip on it so you're able to successfully eat your food without making it fall everywhere. Try it."
You did it and got the hang of it perfectly, wearing your food without your bare hands. Back in your village, that's how you ate, with your bare hands and no kind of utensils to assist you. The food was delicious, you had no shame to dig in once you got comfortable with eating it. He just sat back in his spot and began eating too, being very careful not to spill anything on himself and occasionally taking glances at you. He couldn't help it, you were godly.
So beautiful, so innocent. He knows that if you're part animal, that must meant you had all kinds of similarities to an animal. Like—heat. It intrigued him to know if you did or not, but he was certain you did. He wanted you from the time he saw you at the auction. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it wasn't, but your brown skin was so beautiful. Not only that, but your thick thighs were breathtakingly gorgeous. He saw how you looked when you stood up, and your stomach was so beautifully round that he wondered how it would feel for him to caress it while making beautiful love to you.
You were thick everywhere and he loved it. He just wondered if you were experienced in the areas of sex. Even so, he was already obsessed with you and didn't want anyone or anything coming near you. You were too perfect, too innocent for this world. He just met you but he felt as if you've been with him all of his life and now, he didn't want to let you be with anyone but him. "You know, ____, I have lots of questions for you but right now, I cannot stay very long. After we eat, you will head to your room. Then, I shall leave for the majority of the day but I will be back."
You heard him but you were still digging in on your food so that's what you were focused on. It wasn't long before you were done, and he finished his food right after you. He stood up and grabbed both plates, throwing the scraps in a bin and placing the plates into water on some kind of counter. There was a mechanism that leaked water once he pulled some kind of lever. He let the plates sit in the water before grabbing some kind of cloth and wetting it. He walked over to you and placed a hand softly on your head, lifting it back and wiping around your mouth, cleaning you up.
"Now come, you're going to your room." You couldn't believe how gentle he was, but you weren't complaining because it made you less afraid. He even held onto your hand and walked you down to your room. You both walked inside as he pointed towards the bed for you to sit which you did. He kneeled down beside you and picked something up off the floor, and showed it to you. "This is a collar. When I'm not here, you're not allowed to leave this room, understand?"
You just nodded at him which made him softly smile. He stood up and walked over to something that looked like it was storage of some sort. On top was some kind of device. "This here is a television. It's for entertainment purposes, therefore, I'm going to leave this on for you, every time I leave, okay? What would you like to watch?"
You didn't know, though. So you shrugged and asked him, "What kind of entertainment does this offer?"
"Lots of entertainment. There's these programs called tv channels and genres of entertainment. From romance, to comedy, to action, adventure, nature, and science fiction. Out of those, did any of them catch your attention?"
You thought for a minute before nodding, "I've always been interested in nature. Can—can you please put on a nature channel?" He nodded and did just that. The channel was literally called nature and it was documenting all kinds of animals.
"This will be on the entire time I'm gone, okay? I'll be back later." He walked over to the door and left, closing it gently and walking away. His footsteps became less and less heard until there was nothing but the television being heard. You didn't know why, but everything here felt so comfortable. It was warm in the room, your tail was wagging, and a small content smile was spread on your face. You didn't know if you liked being here or if it was just the little moments you just shared with Nanami.
The television show was talking about all kinds of animals, lions, tigers, giraffes, monkeys, so many. Since you were in the walls of your village all of your life, you didn't really get to explore the beauty's of nature until now. It enlightened excitement in you. You decided that you would give the bed a try, lifting the thick coverings and getting underneath them. It was weird because at home, your beds weren't like this. You had coverings, but the bed wasn't held up by a structure like this. It held your weight too, and that amazed you.
But what amazed you more was the television channel you were watching. "That's a big cat, wow!" You were ever so content, having a feeling of bliss from how nice this was. You wondered now. Did your family who were captured get to live like this? Or were the stories of them being servants to humans true? You guessed it could go either way, depending on if they feel the same way that Nanami does or not. You were, however, hoping that your family was safe though, especially the other women and children.
Your mind is flooded with so much. Too many things happened in such a short amount of time, so you were wondering what time it was. You didn't know why that was the only question you were wondering, but it was. It felt like the time was going by quickly rather than slowly, but you didn't know whether you should complain or not. This man took you in and fed you, gave you a bed to sleep in, so you were kind of happy for the time being.
This was either a good thing or a bad thing, but you knew it was smart to still be cautious of him once he returns home. You're not saying he's a bad man but with your history of humans, you just don't know if you could completely trust him.
Only time would tell, though. You just hoped he wouldn't change and become just as bad as the people he was speaking on.
November 15th, 2020 - 7:41 p.m.
It's your third month living with Nanami, and you could only think how much better things have gotten for you. He treated you like a princess, caring for you and spending nights with you when he was able to. You have noticed how he was trying to get closer to you, asking you questions like, "Do you see me as a potential mate?" or saying things like, "You're so beautiful, ____. I sometimes wonder how you don't have a mate." You honestly weren't interested, though.
And he knew that...
But it didn't stop him from trying. He knew the way he was treating you was just distracting you from the fact that he purchased you three months ago. He knew that with the right words and actions, you'd start to realize that this was better for you. He fed you manipulating words, saying how this is where you belong, safe and sound with him. He thinks you need him, that without him, you wouldn't be able to survive. Even though before him, you managed life without him oh so perfectly.
He knew so much about you, now too. He now knew that you had a heat cycle. That it was coming very soon. He didn't care what it took, but he was going to help you with it. He calculated it all but he knew that since you were part dog, that your heat starts around every 3-4 months. Either you were in it right now, or you're going to go into it pretty soon. That's why he's been keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't need him in such an intimate way.
All he knew was that he didn't have to wait long. Maybe not even another day or two, and that enlightened him. You were in your bedroom, sleeping soundlessly as he walked around your home, cleaning everything up. He was dressed for the night, wearing just a tank top and pajama pants, ready to turn in when he was done with everything. Every time he was home with you after dark, he left your door cracked so he could monitor you. And as he passed by your door, he could see you kicking in your sleep, whining like you were having a nightmare.
Slowly, Nanami approached your door, peeping inside to see how your skin glistened from how badly you were sweating. Nanami pulled the door open softly, careful not to make too much noise as he entered. He walked cautiously towards you, going to the left side of the bed where you were facing. He hated the distress over your expression, but you looked so breathtaking as your body shivered. He knew what was happening. It wasn't a nightmare nor a night sweat, your heat had started in your sleep.
"I'll be damned." He muttered under his breath. He could feel how his dick sprung to life from the sight. You looked so beautiful, your smooth brown skin glistening from the moonlit sky. "____. Are you awake?" By the way you softly snored, Nanami could tell that you were asleep still, but he just couldn't contain himself anymore. He slowly pressed one knee on your bed, trying to softly get on top of it. The movement from him caused you to stir, making you turn over onto your back, facing away from your previous direction.
He straddled your stomach, looking down on you in the most admirable way. Nanami leaned closely to your face, turning it to face him so he could softly caress your warm cheek. "So beautiful..." He whispered, just before he hesitantly leaned closer to your lips, kissing you gently and slowly. He was getting feral, feeling how his heavy dick weighed down and layed against your belly. He grounded his hips against yours, kissing you even deeper than before. His tongue worked its way with invading your delicious lips.
The urge to just fuck you was derailing his mind, his thoughts practically screaming at him to just rearrange your insides. But he's a gentleman, he didn't want to deflower you... he knew you were a virgin. He found that out with some—investigating he did while you were asleep. Nanami was losing his breath and he could tell by the way your face was turning red, that you were too. He pulled away, seeing how much of your shared saliva he got all over your mouth and his own. Licking his lips, Nanami held his body up above you, his hands firmly planted on both sides of your head.
You looked so sweet, so innocent, so venerable.
He just couldn't harm you.
He just decided that he would wake you up.
"____, darling. Please wake up." But you still didn't flinch, so he decided that he would nudge your shoulder. Pushing against it to wake you up. He smiled seeing your eyes flicker open, "____."
Confusion was what he expected, your eyes being wide open from not only seeing how close he was, but from feeling how close you were. "N—Nanami? What are you doing?" You could feel him pressing against your heated clitoris, throbbing harshly and hotly against you.
"I know you're in heat. I would love to help you with that, if you would allow me."
You didn't realize it straight away—but this is the first time you've ever been scared of Nanami. The reason being was that he was invading your VERY personal space, you being asleep and he was all on top of you. "Why didn't you just ask me about it? I can't—I just don't know what to think now."
"I know you're afraid, but I just couldn't help it. I didn't do more than this, if that's what you think, darling. I respect you too much to do that to you."
You were silent, your eyes looking away from him trying to distract yourself from the hard cock that was throbbing against your covered heated clitoris. You knew you were in heat, but you didn't want to tell him about it because you didn't know how he'd react. Yes, he has been asking you very intimate questions about your body, but you thought it was just for the fact that he was interested in your kind.
You felt a warm gentle hand grasp your face, turning your head to face him in an oh so soft way. You could see the adoration in his eyes, he didn't want to hurt you. He was in love with you, the way his pupils dilated from just looking at you and thinking about what you wanted. He wasn't acting on anything else until you said something. But since you weren't speaking, he spoke up first to grab your attention.
"____, I'm very sorry for barging into your personal space without your consent. I just couldn't stand to see my baby having a hard time, with no help." He adored you in every way, you could tell by the way he would slowly observe your entire face, slightly licking his lips as he wondered how he got so lucky. "I won't do anything you wouldn't want to do, okay? So if you want me to leave then I'll—"
He was preparing himself to get off of you, but you didn't let him, grabbing him by his forearms and shouting, "Wait, Nanami!" You didn't know what this sudden burst of want was, but you needed him there. It was more than likely because of your heat, you wanted to hump everything you could including his hard cock. "I—I want you to help me. This is my first heat and I just want you."
Nanami smiled softly before laying back on top of you, positioning his heavy cock to rest comfortably against your pulsing clitoris. He wasted no time in kissing you, swallowing all your small whimpers before he began to drag the underside of his dick against your sensitive pussy. He knew what he was doing and he knew what you wanted, moaning loudly in your mouth which made you begin to buck your hips with his.
You felt how his body tensed a little, which showed just how sensitive he was as well. His cock was pulsing every time your clit rubbed against it, the veins in his cock only stimulating him with more sensitivity. But you wanted more, you patted his chest a couple of times which made him pull away from your luscious lips, holding himself up to stare down at you which a visible tent of pink painting over his cheeks. "What's wrong, do you want me to stop?"
Shaking your head, you answered with a no. "Can I take lead? I want to just—ride you?"
Oh, you were so innocent. He saw how serious and desperate you were, so he pulled himself up. "Up." He commanded, which you instantly did. "Good girl." You moved out the way, watching as he layed on his back in your bed. You couldn't help it, you had to had been staring at the big tent in his pants for a while. It was huge, throbbing, and you could see a wet patch at the very tip of it. You guessed you turned him on more than you thought.
"First, we're going to partake in some foreplay. I want you to feel as good as possible, ____. Come on, baby." Nanami pulled his pajama pants down, kicking them completely off and being left in only his underwear and tank top. You could now see how hard he was, his red tip being visible through his thin boxers. The veins in his cock seemed to be pulsing the more he stared at you, beating at a steady rhythm almost entrancing you.
"Can I remove my underwear? That'll make it feel better right?"
"Of course. But I'm not removing mine, just yet. I want you to dry hump my cock, try to get you prepped for the real thing." He was ever so content, watching you remove your underwear and toss them amongst the floor. Nanami held his hand out for you to grab it which you did, helping you to guide your body on top of his, straddling his waist and lowering yourself onto him. "Good girl. Now, you can go fast, slow, soft, or hard. This is for you."
You were a little embarrassed, but your body craved this so damn badly. Your hips just started moving on their own, dragging against his thick covered cock that teased and stimulated him so much. You basked in the sensation, your body tensing from how hard his cock was. He was so thick too, your lips barely being able to spread across the entire thing. But it was great, though. You had your eyes closed, placing your hands against Nanami's chest to stabilize yourself and get a good balance on top of him.
Nanami placed his hands against your smooth brown thighs, sighing softly of pleasure from how you shifted your little hot bean against his tip. That part of you was extra sensitive and unbeknownst to you, Nanami's tip was overly sensitive. The way your heated pussy fucked against his cock was making him delirious, he has wanted this for so damn long that now it was extremely difficult for him to not cum so fast. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, and by the look on your face as he opened his eyes, YOU WERE enjoying yourself.
He didn't even recognize you with how slutty you looked. Your tongue sticking out and your hips moving harder against his dick, making him hold a hard grip against your thighs. He could feel your nails digging into his chest, his skin stinging but being tolerable and somehow adding to the pleasure that his dick was getting. He could see how your tail wagged back and forth the more you rocked against him, your warm pussy twitching as it was stimulated so much by his cock.
The way your moans was music to his ears made his body shiver, the sight of your plump body working so hard for an orgasm made his balls tighten. He knew that he was about to cum, but he was going to let you enjoy him as much as you needed to. You were completely out of it, letting one of your hands go up to your breast and holding it as you bounced against Nanami. He watched your chest bounce in a way that only made his balls throb sporadically before he felt the substance travel through his cock and out his tip, his body tensing as his muscles flexed from how hard he came.
You continued on, Nanami gritting his teeth and his eyes clenching shut from the overstimulation you drained from him. "Fuuuck—!" He groaned aloud, which made you snap out of it and realize what you were doing to him. You slowed down for a moment, watching as his body jerked from all your movements.
"N—Nanami? Am I hurting you?"
He took a moment to let the euphoric afterglow wash over him. He shook his head, "Not at all, ____. I'm just sensitive. You made me cum." He knew that you wouldn't know what you just did to him, which is why it only turned him on more. He loved when your innocent side came out. "I didn't make you cum, did I?" You shook your head, watching Nanami closely from what he was doing. He sat up with you still on top of him, just before he quickly grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the bed, pinning you underneath him. "I guess we'll just have to change that, won't we?"
That shocked you, but you felt how your body desperately needed that somehow. He wasn't restricting your airflow, but it was enough to have you gulping down air every now and then. His hand was so large, almost wrapping around your throat. You felt so different, not quite like yourself, but just a horny hot mess that needed him wherever he was supposed to bed. "Guess I gotta help my baby out then. Don't worry, ____. I'll make you cum as many times as you want." Your body flinched as his free hand went to your pussy, his thumb fiddling with your throbbing bean.
"Ohhhhh—I guess I almost made you cum, huh, ____? You were grabbing your own tits, whining like a bitch." You shuddered the more he caressed your drenched pussy, and you could feel your liquids running down the crevice of your ass the more he played with you. "You're gonna take my dick. In any fucking way I want you to." You couldn't see it, but you heard how he pulled his underwear down, the soft thud of it hitting the floor. He didn't even bother taking his shirt off the normal way, instead he stopped playing with your pussy to rip his shirt off, the noise reaching your ears and making you jump.
He was completely naked above you, "If you're not ready, that's not my problem now is it?" He was up close on your face, whispering as he placed gentle kisses all over you. You felt how his tip was knocking on your door, trying to enter and making you more needy. He saw how your body tried to get him to enter you already, but Nanami loved to tease you. Even with this position, he never took his hand off your throat, "I love you. You know that right? You're my baby..." He talked you through the fact that he was pushing his dick into you, slowly but surely. Everything was so overwhelming that your mind didn't register him telling you that he loves you.
Even if he said that you not being prepped wasn't his problem, but he never would hurt you on purpose. Not unless you wanted him to. And judging by how hard you got turned on from him slamming you against the bed, your body wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. Nanami removed his hands from around your throat, placing his head against your shoulder to pepper soft kisses on you. Your body didn't sense any pain, only being taking on a ride of pleasure the more he pressed into you. "You feel that? I'm almost in, shit—!" His breath hitched, feeling how tight you were.
There was a soft spongy spot that he was pressing against, that he softly thrusted into to figure out what it was. "Ahhhhh—! Nanami!" He knew what it was now, and he knew what he just made you do. The way you yelled his named and moaned out like a loud cry told him that he hit that secret g-spot, and by the way your body was jerking he could tell that those two thrusts made you orgasm.
He had to sit up and look at your face, hearing the mantras of moans and yells of his name the more he pressed against it. He only pulled out slightly so he could rapidly fuck against your g-spot. He knew you were in heat but to see your eyes beading with tears the more he fucked into you let him know that he was giving you the best moment of your life. He stopped momentarily, to sit up on his knees so he could stare down at you. Nanami grabbed your legs and pressed them against his chest, "That felt good, didn't it? I'm gonna make you do it again."
An experimental thrust from Nanami had your body twisting underneath him, "Fuuuck! It—it feels so good!" You didn't recognize yourself at all, but your body wanted more. You removed your legs from his chest and wrapped them around his waist, curling against him and making him lose his balance a little. You bounced against him as he leaned against the balls of his feet, before he pushed himself up and held you up against him. You fucked yourself desperately against his thick cock, but Nanami wasn't going to allow that.
With a harsh smack to your ass, it made you completely stop but moan in the process. He lifted you up in the air as he stood up on his feet, holding you still against him. He walked you both over to a wall, pressing your back against the cold surface. "Didn't I tell you that no matter what, you're gonna take my cock in the way I WANT YOU TO?!" He wasn't upset, but he knew the aggression made your body go insane. He hooked your legs around his arms and pulled you off the wall. "Now I'm not stopping no matter how hard and how many times you cum."
"Nanami, I—ahhhhhh!"
He didn't let you get a word in as he bounced you on his cock in the air, somehow your pussy feeling the pleasure ten folds stronger than before in this position. His dick was angling at your g-spot and curving to focus solely on that. "Shut the fuck up and take my dick." Your pussy twitched, and your body shivered the harder he pounded into you. "I bet you love being held like this? Fucked standing up and you can't move. Fuck you're so tight—!"
The way his cock targeted your spot repeatedly felt like your body was on fire, the tears in your eyes streaming down your cheeks and dripping down on your tits, falling between the crevices. "Oh fuck, you feel so good, ____." Nanami smacked your ass as he pounded into, before taking a hand full of your ass and gripping it tightly, using it as leverage to pull you harshly into his hard pounding cock.
You already felt another orgasm creeping up on you. You let your hands rest on Nanami's back, your nails digging into his skin making his back muscles flex from the sting. "Cumming... cu-cumming... CUMMING!!!"
That made Nanami press your back harshly against the wall, his head against your shoulder before he began pounding harder into you. "Fuck, cum around my cock, baby." Your head slammed against the wall the harder he fucked into you, his thrusts being so strong that your legs shook from the way he connected his cock to your spot. "Come on, ____. Cum, I know you're right there."
And damnit you were, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, "Ahhhhhhhh—!" You were whaling loudly and dramatically, feeling like your entire pussy was being tickled to a sensation that shouldn't have been possible. And God did he enjoy everything he was doing to your soft body. He wrapped his arms around you tightly so you wouldn't try and push him away or escape him, which you were trying to. The overstimulation was too much for you, but he wasn't going to stop until you were completely satisfied.
He felt how your juices seeped out around his cock, only to hear as it dripped down against the floor and splashed the more he fucked you. "You're taking my dick so well, aren't you? You love this, don't you?" He continued to overstimulate you, making the tears in your eyes more evident as you were slightly sobbing now, gasping as he fucked into you so deeply and harshly. Your eyes were blurred from the tears, your body shaking so badly from the sensations of his dick repeatedly bashing into you oh so deeply and deliciously.
The way your body was shaking so violently made Nanami accidentally drop you. You fell onto your side, shivering against the floor not even noticing Nanami standing over you. You were out of it, until Nanami grabbed you by your hair and held you up on your hands and knees against the floor. He got down on one knee behind you, not wasting any time to slam his dick back inside of you. "We're not done until you make me cum inside this fat pussy of yours."
Nanami gently slammed your head against the floor, his fingers tangled in your hair before pulling you back up and thrusting harshly into you. He held you by your hair, using it as leverage to pull your back against his hips. He looked down and watched how his dick was repeatedly sheathed inside your pussy, his free hand couldn't help but swat harsh slaps at your jiggling ass. The way your tail wagged from made him sigh in awe. "Fuck, look at that." Your ass moved like water against his cock, his grip in your hair making your body arch from the position.
He was about to cum, and he wasn't planning on pulling out. You deserved the warmth of his cum inside your beautiful body. This feeling was the best either of you have ever experienced, your legs becoming wobbly before you toppled over and layed limped against the floor. "That won't stop me, ___. I'm about to cum." Nanami placed his hand against the side of your face, holding you against the floor as he continued his sloppy thrust. "Oh fuck—!" His eyes were closed as his teeth clenched.
Your face was very red with your mouth open, your tongue hanging out dripping saliva. Your orgasm was right there and so was Nanami's. Your body trembled the more he pounded into you, and it only took one perfect thrust for his thick tip head to rub against your spot to have you clawing at the floor. You came with a cry, only for Nanami to follow shortly and press your face against the floor firmly, squishing your cheek against the board.
He practically growled as thick spurts of cum shot repeatedly against your cervix, making you shiver from the warmth it gave. His hips didn't want to stop, until the sensitivity became too overwhelming for him to continue anymore. He never came so hard in his life, but he was happy that he was the one you got to experience this with. He knew your heat wasn't over, not until three to four weeks. Nanami pulled his hand off of your face, sitting up and stretching his muscles out.
He didn't want to pull his cock out at all, if anything he wanted to fuck you some more but he didn't. He knew you needed rest after the countless amount of orgasms. Nanami leaned down and pressed kisses to the side of your fucked out face, his cock sliding in as he did so, making you whimper so pathetically. "Get as much rest as you can. Because when you're ready, I'm gonna fuck you again."
...
...
...
The next morning, 9:29 a.m.
Your eyes batted repeatedly, opening to the sound of a voice telling you good morning. You knew who it was, Nanami. "Good morning..." You groggily replied, your eyes opening completely to see Nanami walking towards you with a hot cup of coffee.
"How'd you sleep, ____?" Nanami had a smile across his face, handing you the cup of coffee which you took and drunk quickly. Your throat needed some soothing, and that coffee hit the spot. But it quickly had you shooting up to run to the bathroom. But, you didn't run, more like fell straight to the ground as soon as you got up. "Easy there, ____." He knew why you fell to the ground... maybe he was too rough last night, but he enjoyed watching you struggle to walk on your own.
He didn't hesitate on picking you up, walking you towards your bathroom and sitting you upon the toilet. Instantly, you relieved yourself from all the pent up liquid inside your body. Nanami just leaned against the sink, not leaving your side for a moment. He was curious, though. Did you remember anything that happened last night? Because you weren't acting like you did, and that made him feel some kind of way.
"____. Did you sleep okay?"
You looked at him, smiling softly. "Probably the best night sleep I've had in a while. I didn't expect my legs to be this sore in the morning, though."
"Do you know why that is?" He asked you acting all cluelessly.
After you used the toilet, you stood up and flushed it, watching Nanami step aside to let you wash your hands. You saw him staring at you in the mirror, so you dried your hands, turned the water off and turned towards him. "Come on, Nanami. Don't act like you don't know what happened last night."
He smiled at you, "I was just making sure you knew. I didn't want you thinking I did anything wrong."
"No, you didn't so don't worry. But do you remember what you said to me? That very romantic thing? I mean—well I saw it as romantic." Nanami shook his head, trying to remember but all he was thinking about was the way you screamed for him and came over and over again. "You told me you loved me, Nanami. I don't know why but... I feel the same way, but I just don't know if you were serious. You know, because of the heat of the moment."
His eyes went wide, upset that you thought he only said that because you were having sex. "____, listen to me." Nanami grabbed your face softly and lifted your chin up to look at him, "I've loved you for so long, okay? When I had the luck of being awarded for you at that place, it felt as if I was saving you. And ever since, I've wanted you to love me just as much as I love you. Do not question my love, I will always love you. It wasn't just the sex talking, I'm in love with you."
Your mouth formed a smile, taking in what he said before you returned the word, "I love you too, Nanami. And I wanna give this... give us a try." Nanami couldn't be more happier. He smiled gleefully as he pulled you into a heartfelt kiss, being slow, gentle, and so loving that your heart just melted.
You never knew that you'd think this, nor say it. But you felt like this is where you belong. Your family back home was very special to you, but you've never received love from a mate. And in all honesty if you could go back in time, you would slap your past self and tell her that this is where she belongs.
Home is indeed a person, and that home of yours being Kento Nanami.
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This work was originally written by @compressingsins, if you see anything similar, please report it to me. 🫶🏾
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132 notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 8 months
Note
What about a Jason x Reader drabble where they were close friends before he died and they reunite years later, changed and burdened but still equally fond of each other? I know you could write that beautifully heartbreakingly or on the contrary, very softly and warmly :)
oh, you *debby ryan hair tuck* you nonnies flatter me 🥰 thanks for requesting! please heed the warnings, this one is technically a happy ending but it's a heavy one!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: reader doesn't know what's real, reader thinks they're dreaming and tries to jump off a railing (but they're okay), grief, angst, jason coming back from the dead, emotional hurt/comfort.
I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are still open
****
He's on your terrace.
You walk forward, and Jason promptly puts distance between you. He looks stricken, like he's looking at a ghost.
He's not the Jason you usually see in these dreams. This Jason is what could've been.
This Jason is saved.
"Hi, Jason," you say. "Jaybird. Robin."
Jason exhales like you've punched him. He's dressed differently than he usually is in your dreams. Usually, he's in his Robin suit. Sometimes he's in his funeral suit, and his face is battered, and his bones jut out at odd angles. And he looks at you with hollowed out eyes and asks why you killed him, over and over.
"You look different," you say.
Jason huffs. It sounds wet. With blood or tears, you're not sure. It's always one or the other in your dreams.
"Yeah," he says, and God, even his voice is different than usual. When he begs you to finish the job. When he hurls blame at you.
You deserve it. You're not sure you can take it from this version of him, though. You're trying to remember where you saw a man with Jason's face that your brain used to conjure up this twisted dream.
"I think I'll jump this time," you say, gazing at the terrace railing behind him.
Jason flinches, eyes wide. "What? Don't do that."
You hum. "'S okay, Jay. I love seeing you, but I've been terribly tired this week. I don't want to watch you die again. I'd rather wake up."
He makes a small, wounded noise.
"God, what did I do to you?" he asks.
"It's alright," you say. If Jason starts to panic, the nightmares will come. And it's cruel now, seeing Jason like this, seeing what could've been. But at least he's not dead. Yet.
You start to move to the terrace. You want the dream to end.
Jason steps in front of you. His face is young, probably your age, but his body is older, powerful. His muscles are nearly the size of your head. He's so healthy and strong tonight.
"You're... you're so big," you whisper, marveling over his height and bulk.
Jason had been lithe and small when you knew him. You were certain he'd turn out like Dick, and you suggested learning gymnastics.
Jason would grumble at that, but you knew he adored it whenever Dick gave him the time of day.
He hunches now, acutely aware of his size. His knees are bent slightly, and his hands are clasped together, like he's trying not to tower over you.
The thought makes you ache. Does Jason think you're afraid of him?
"Don't jump," he says firmly.
"Okay," you say. You'll do it when he's distracted. The dream will take a turn soon.
You step forward again, arms falling open. Jason was never one for hugs, but surely he'd make an exception this time, right? You haven't seen him in so long.
But Jason steps back. You stop.
"Jason," you say, voice small. "I don't get to see you much. Will you hug me?"
"I..." The word is weak in his throat. His voice is different. Deeper. Rougher. You think about him screaming, and you shake your head to dismiss that thought.
Jason swallows. "I came back wrong."
"No, you didn't," you say. "It's never wrong if you came back."
He winces. "It is. I am. I'm... You've got a good thing going. A good life. You're goin' to college and everything. I-I shouldn't have come here."
"No, Jason, you won't ruin anything. I'm glad you're here. Please let me touch you. I've missed you so much," you beg, slightly hysterical.
You step forward again. This time, Jason doesn't move away. He lets you trace his sharp jaw, his cheeks. Green eyes bore into you. That's weird. His eyes were blue. As blue as Bruce's.
Oh, well. Your brain must be using details from whoever you saw that resembled Jason.
"This is nice," you say, and finally wrap your arms around him.
A beat passes, and then Jason hugs you back. His embrace is careful, and it's almost funny, the thought of Jason needing to be delicate with you. You don't laugh, though. You're too tired for that.
"Okay," you say, because you have a feeling things are going to turn dark. That you'll pull back and find that you've been hugging a corpse.
The cold railing digs into your spine. You smile at Jason.
"It was good to see you," you say.
And then you fall.
You wait for the drop in your stomach, to jerk awake in your bed.
Instead, Jason lunges after you and hauls you back onto the terrace. He's shaking. A breeze blows gently and ruffles his hair.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouts.
His arms are tight around your waist. Your heart starts to pound.
"You caught me," you say. Your brain feels like sludge. "You never catch me."
Jason moans like he's mourning. Like you're the one who died and came back to haunt him.
"God, I'm so sorry," he says, choked. "Fuck, I am so fucking sorry. I should've stayed dead."
"No," you say softly. "No. This isn't real. You're not real."
"I am, sweetheart. I—"
"No," you say again, panic rising. "You're not real. Jason Todd is dead."
Jason takes your hand and places it on his chest. His heart beats. You scream.
"Shh, it's alright," he says, tears running down his cheeks. "It's okay, it's okay—"
"You died, you died! I killed you, I killed you!" you scream, pushing at his chest. "I killed you!"
"You didn't kill me. Please, listen to me. It's-it's okay." He pulls you into his chest and tries to keep you still. You thrash, but Jason just holds you, crying into your shoulder.
"No, no, no, not again, don't leave me again," you yell, voice cracked with grief. "Not again, I can't survive losing you again. Let me wake up, wake up!"
"You're awake. I'm here. I'm here. I'm alive. Hold me. Prove that I'm real."
You squeeze him as hard as you can. You rake your nails down his neck, trying to make him disappear. Jason just hugs you tighter.
"Am I dead?" you ask, and Jason gasps.
"No, you're alive. We're both alive. Okay? Okay? Say it. Tell me I'm alive."
"You're alive," you say. "You're alive. I'm alive."
He nods and buries his nose in your neck. You grab handfuls of his shoulders, ready to wake up any second. Maybe you can take him back with you.
"Jason Todd is alive," you say, and hope to God you'll wake up to that being true.
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workingbynyx · 5 months
Note
heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee
(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)
Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader
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↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗
↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗
↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗
↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗
↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗
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"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.
what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.
but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.
"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.
you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?
jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.
"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"
the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.
he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.
"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.
"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.
its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.
it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?
while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.
you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?
"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.
"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.
jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.
a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.
"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"
"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.
"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"
"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.
jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.
a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.
but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.
you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"
"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.
you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said
"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"
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sordidmusings · 7 months
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Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader
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Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!
A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍
From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"
Word Count: ~4k
Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection
afab!Version
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”
“I’m quaking.”
“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.
“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.
After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.
You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.
“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.
“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”
Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.
“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.
Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.
Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”
Silence.
You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.
“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.
“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.
“Clown trade?”
He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”
You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”
Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.
“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.
You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.
Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.
The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”
Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.
You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.
Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.
While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.
With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-
You’d love him.
Fuck.
You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.
“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.
Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”
Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.
“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.
Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 
You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.
“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.
“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.
“Oh yeah like what?”
“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”
The outburst was immediate.
“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”
Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.
The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 
When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.
“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”
You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”
He ignored you. As expected.
“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”
He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?
Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.
“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”
After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.
You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.
You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.
“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.
Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”
Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.
Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.
He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.
The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.
All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.
Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.
168 notes · View notes
wetcatspellcaster · 1 month
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Metapost: "The Ascendent"
**this is a meta for my fic, Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth, and NOT a discussion of the BG3 game canon in any way. If you try and make this into a disk-horse, I will BITE you**
(spoilers under the cut for Chapters 1-23 of Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth).
So... remember in the Chapter One endnote when I said I was a Spike/Buffy fan first, and a person second? x
・゚: ✧・゚: ・゚: ✧・゚:・゚✧:・゚・゚✧:・゚
In more seriousness, there was a number of fictional seasonings/ingredients that went into creating what I felt was the villain of a Gothic horror, and what I felt could turn the Ascendent into something that was both 'fixable', and something I enjoyed writing.
Those ingredients were:
Spike and the idea of 'soulless' vampires in the BtVS canon - do I like this conceit of BtVS worldbuilding and how it's used in the show? No. I think it often underlines how bad Whedon is at writing romance. BUT I do think it gives Buffy this free pass for which vampires she can/can't like or adopt, and I needed some of that for my protagonist. I need a 'I can fix him' moment - BtVS has those in fucking SPADES.
Howl's Moving Castle (this one was accidental, I'm still mad at myself but I can't deny it's there) - man conducts magic ritual for power, removing an essential part of himself in the process that needs to be returned
Picture of Dorian Gray (the idea of an exterior staying pristine while something hidden suffers and decays)
Curse of Strahd (the soulless in Barovia, which I mentioned in Chapter 23)
The idea of default moral alignments in D&D. I have a whole chapter arguing against this in my thesis (mostly bc it's often applied to entire races) but I was fascinated by creating a set of circumstances where I feel like a default moral alignment is valid, actually. 7,000 deaths seems like a good set up. I wanted to imagine a being that was trapped within a default moral alignment, and the laws of its very being prevent it from being good no matter what it tries, and it knows that (this kind of creates a feedback loop with the Spike/Buffy stuff)
The parts of the BG3 canon I took and REMADE (I'm stressing this throughout, I was making a horror story and a horror monster your honour):
Astarion conducts the Rite of Profane Ascension with scars on his back, but has to scar Cazador's back personally, suggesting that um... the Rite REALLY SHOULDN'T BE CONDUCTED BY SOMEONE WHO'S GOT THOSE SCARS. Cazador wasn't going to do it that way, is all I'm saying!!
The idea that Ascended!Ending Astarion is a concentrated version of certain traits that have persisted throughout his story - his flirtiness, his understanding of sex as a mechanism and expression of power, his use of a façade as a mask for trauma he refuses to acknowledge.
The lines alluding to dissociation in the brothel foursome, post-Ascension.
The idea that Astarion seduced Tav to survive or protect himself- in my case, because I made the Ascendent empty save for Astarion's survival instinct, the idea that he would gravitate towards Tav as one of his default modes to potentially survive made sense to me - this is why it becomes an obsession.
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For me, when writing, the Ascendent is a few things:
An intensification of vampirism in a different, fucked-up direction. Yeah, A!Astarion, you can walk in sunlight and you can eat and drink and don't need blood. But you are still a hungering maw of emptiness that feels like it will never be whole or close and connected to the living - just now in a wildly different, metaphysical/existential direction! Welcome to depression, alienation, and otherness!
A soulless being, that knows it is soulless - that initially was very happy with its life but then as the years passed, increasingly spends its every waking moment knowing there is something innately wrong with it that it can't seem to shake, no matter how much it engages with life and all the pleasures of life. (see the 'every meal without savour' speech)
A magically literal metaphor for Astarion's dissociation in moments of extreme trauma, up to and including the fight with Cazador - essentially, the moments when there is nothing but a performance or an exterior, because the self/soul are suffering and they cant' come to phone right now
Astarion's survival instinct. As I say in Chapter 23 - Mephistopheles thinks it is an empty body, who's performance is trying to deny the reality of it's own existence. Rosalie, who has a bit more understanding of Astarion, sees that the performance is not just a coping mechanism but one of Astarion's main modes of survival. The Ascendent is Astarion's survival instinct/techniques for endurance, without any soul or person behind them to protect. This is how I tried to tie in the flirty, hypersexual persona and wrap it with a bow.
I wanted a monster that was undeniably scary, and monstrous to me (oh? you can't fit in or be happy no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, and you think there's something intrinsically off? how's that autism diagnosis going Emma) but that I also felt sympathy and true sorrow for. I needed to have motivations for him chasing after Tav that I could write meaningfully from and sympathise with.
Not only has Astarion used Tav as a life-raft once before, they've also proven to be the most secure thing he's ever clung to. Of course a rabid survival instinct Astarion would become obsessed, and see them as a potential solution to the problem (this was then intensified by Rosalie also being a walking, overbearing moral compass, and having bound him in a contract in the first week of living, accidentally - a lawful good immoveable objects meets a default moral alignment unstoppable force.)
...Because I also wanted that moral alignment spice!! Wizards of the Coast, default moral alignment is fucked up actually!!! Imagine something trying so desperately to be good - literally being bound in a pact and having been told to be good - but the laws of the universe and its very essence are like "nah mate, we kind of want to destroy and annihilate everything, we're neutral evil personified". That's scary!! that's fucked up!! that's what a birth from 7000 deaths gets you!!!
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So, now for the actual timeline, for people who aren't interested in my silly musings but mostly just want answers lmfao.
Rosalie makes the decision not to intervene in Cazador's mansion, making it seem like she'll support whatever decision Astarion will make there.
Rite of Profane Ascension happens. Astarion conducts the ritual, rips his own soul from his body, the Ascendent is born with literally zero context. Mephistopheles is fucked in Cania, because a bunch of stuff has just gone wrong.
(oh, by the way, the Ascendent knows Infernal as a default language. Bc it's born from an Infernal rite.)
The Ascendent is now default neutral evil, and feeling some kind of way. Rosalie and him break up. He's supposed to have everything, but the one thing he thought was a done deal - his most stalwart suppporter - just rejected him.
Netherbrain defeat (the Ascendent is not invited. Imagine being an all-powerful, hypersexual survival instinct vampire, and your ex-girlfriend neither wants you for sex, nor your power.)
Rosalie accidentally binds the Ascendent (a soulless devil) in a pact demanding that he never kill anyone, when that's literally what the Ascendent's new existence/new default moral alignment is driving him to do. Then, she fucks off and goes into hiding.
Well. The Ascendent can just get another wizard, to help him learn all of Cazador's secrets to cope [Hemlock is recruited].
The years go by! The Ascendent is doing sooooo well. Everything is great, guys! I'm rich, I'm beautiful, I have lavish parties and lots of sex - why do I feel nothing? I'm a vampire perfected - I have no hunger for blood, I can walk in the sun, I can enjoy all the freedoms of a living, breathing man - why do I feel like I'm starving? Why does everything turn to ashes in my mouth? I have friends - oops, I've sabotaged all those friendships with my innate neutral evil destruction. Why can't I feel anything? What's wrong with me? I'm doing everything right? Why doesn't it feel that way?
Also, I can't kill anything to feel better about it, because my hidden ex-girlfriend bound me in a pact.
In this time, to reflect the gradual degradation of the Ascendent's happiness and it's increasing awareness that it is something Other and innately wrong, the reflection starts going weird. Starts going strange. Starts getting a bit fucked up. Almost as if, when he looks in the mirror and sees a person, *nothing* should be what's there. Imagine being a spawn who couldn't see your reflection, and then a vampire who could see it's reflection, but knows that they're innately empty. Knows there's nothing there. I'd freak out a little bit about it as well tbh, I'd go a bit tooth and claw and elongated jaw about it.
The Ascendent finally admits that's there must be something kinda fucked about it. Life just ain't working out, lads. He starts looking for any and all impossible cures that will help with the malaise in his soul (and that innate essence problem, caused by default moral alignment). These include: more bad decisions, such as a house in Cania bc the Ascendent is hoping he'll feel more at home with devils than he does with mortals. All it does is make him feel more isolated and alone.
But eventually, he settles on two things! - Wish (Hemlock's idea), and Rosalie (the Ascendent's idea). Clearly, we just need Rosalie back! Her leaving is actually what fucked him up in the first place - none of this existential bullshit! She fixed us one, she can fix us again.
But looking for Rosalie hasn't worked out. In order to get a shot at her, the Ascendent goes and bargains for his own soul from Mephistopheles. Mephistopheles, adding a new sheet in excel titled 'what the fuck happens when i give this soulless monster a soul to play with?', agrees and starts tracking his new data.
Obviously, just putting the soul back in yourself will fix you. But the Ascendent, the nothingness living inside Astarion's body, will die. Taking the soul back would erase itself. The Ascendent - who is survival instinct personified - would never do this.
So instead, it starts interviewing and cannibalising the soul. Bc a soul is what it needs, this is the closest it's ever felt to being alive. Bc it's made this all about Rosalie, he thinks he's found his solution. The chase is making him feel alive again. It's true love, lads! not the soul.
Wish auction happens - the Ascendent is beaten to the punch by some unknown (hot) wizard.
This avenue cut off, the Ascendent makes the decision to try and win Rosalie back.
Astarion advises that to make her come back to the Gate, he should murder a bunch of people. Because this comes from the soul, not the soulless devil nothingness, it circumvents the pact.
...The events of Pieces begin!
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And finally - the Ascendent tries to destroy Jar!Starion for many reasons in Chapter 19:
The Ascendent knows that it dies, if the soul and the body get reunited (or is that constant high alert survival instinct just no longer needed, because the problem is fixed? you decide.)
The Ascendent values Tav above itself. Tav is going to fix them. Astarion believes he could never fix himself.
Dissociation - that soul isn't me. I'm here, looking at my soul. If I get too close, it'll kill me.
Self-hatred - that soul isn't me. That man made a mistake, and I've had to live with the consequences. He doesn't deserve to live, for what he's made me become.
The knowledge that Rosalie/Tav will only ever want that version of him, not the one that's living and breathing, that sees itself as the most wretched, fucked-up version of itself. So... give them no choice. They have to deal with me and love me at my worst.
And if the Rite didn't work - if the version of the Ascendent walking around isn't the best one, and the one people want... what was it all for? Why does the Ascendent feel like this? Why does it have to suffer?
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....And, that's my little meta post! If anyone has any questions about the timeline or any motivations at any points in the fic, I'm obviously more than happy to explain things via ask/comment, as always!
TLDR: I just wanted to make a Gothic horror. I wanted a dark romance, fucked up obsession vampire/mortal dynamic, but I also wanted a situation that was scary for both Astarion and my Tav. I personally think an Astarion who is so dissociated and separate from reality that he feels that in his bones daily, is scary. It's the lingering impact of the traumas the Rite and those 7,000 souls embodied.
I was literally just trying to make it a horror, for everyone involved.
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Note
i'm not trying to prioritize this ask above your others or anything, i promise, but wednesday is my birthday and I was wondering if you could write something about celebrating your birthday with tangerine? 💓
hii angel!! absolutely no worries!! I always do fics first if they’re needed by a certain time (ie if someone is sick) thank you for helping me with it :) thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
also a big fat happy birthday!! hope you have a lovely day my sweet🎉❤️ @dynamitehacke
birthday
tangerine x f reader
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wc || 1k
warnings || none
masterlist + rules
taglist
Tangerine is the kind of guy to go above and beyond for the special people in his life, going out of his way for his loved ones. With you, it was no different.
He had you to himself for the entire day, wanting nothing other than to spoil you and make you smile. He had spent weeks planning for your birthday, organising everything to the second so that he could give you the special day that you deserve.
This morning he had treated you with a home-cooked spread in bed, a tray of all your favourite breakfast foods with a beautiful bouquet of fresh-picked flowers. He was always very prompt with timing but even more so with the day he planned for you, so the next thing on the agenda was gifts.
He had his hands clasped over your eyes as he lead you down the stairs, ushering you into the living room where you were surprised with a floor full of presents, balloons and banners. He slowly removed his hands, watching your expression as you gazed around at the decorated room, taking in his sweet grand gesture.
He lead you to the sofa where he handed you your first present, placing the neatly wrapped gift box on your lap, waiting patiently to see your reaction. His tender blue eyes followed your every movement as you made your way through the many piles of presents, watching in anticipation as you tore the paper.
He really spoiled you, he got you everything you could possibly want and then some; the bag you had your eyes on, the series of books you hadn’t yet got around to buying, the full-length floor plant you were saving up for, that sweater you really wanted, the lip gloss you were running low on. Anything he thought you needed or wanted, he got it all.
After the presents you both snuggled on the sofa where you thanked him endlessly, littering each other's faces with kisses until he shared the next part of the plan of today.
He had taken you to lunch at that little restaurant by the river where you indulged on whatever it was that you were craving, chatting and laughing the whole time as you both enjoyed a couple light alcoholic beverages.
On the way back home, he had stopped by the bookstore, leading you inside with his hand in yours, swinging in unison. He slipped his hand from yours and into his pocket, reaching for his bank card, instructing you to “go crazy.” He followed you around the shop, holding the numerous books you had picked up, balancing them in his arms as you continued to search through the sections, seeing what would catch your interest.
The rest of the day was spent at home, enjoying each other's company as you found new homes for all of your new gifts.
———
There was one more thing Tangerine had planned for the night, but he wasn’t able to do it with you around. So he ran you a bath, filling the tub with bubbles, rose petals and bath salts, lining the surrounding area with candles and incense. He allowed you some alone time to soak in the warm ambience-filled room while he set up for the next portion of the night.
After a short while, you left the tub, wrapping yourself in the towel he had been warming on the radiator for you. Upon exiting you notice arrows placed on the floor, following the directions, you see a neat pile of his pyjamas on the bed that he had laid out for you. Drying off, you dress yourself in the checkered bottoms and baggy tee. Applying a shortened version of your skincare routine before continuing after the trail of markings.
Following the arrows downstairs and into the living room you see a bed made up on the floor with mountains of blankets and pillows, the cosy space lit with fairy lights. “No fucking way.” You whisper, far too stunned to muster actual words.
“Surprise,” He grins, kneeling on the covers, holding a basket of snacks. “Come sit.”
“You did all this?” You quietly ask, looking around in astonishment at the decorated area.
He boyishly smiles, placing the basket aside, slinking his arms around you and flopping you both back onto the makeshift bed. “Mhm. Ya like it?” He cutely questions, kissing your temple.
“Uh-yeah. It’s beautiful, thank you.” You smile, cosying into his side.
“Alright give me a minute,” he smiles, slowly removing himself from your grip.
“You leaving me already?” You playfully whine, sitting up as you follow his gaze
“Hm… yeah. Park ya arse there.” He grins, patting at the edge of the blow-up mattress. “Will only be a minute.”
“Can’t believe you’re leaving me again… on my birthday, too.” You smirk, watching him leave.
“Yeah well, shut up.” He calls out from the other room, chuckling earnestly. “Alright, close ya eyes.” He instructs.
Particularly doing as he says, you cover your eyes, separating your fingers so you could see through the gaps.
“I see that,” he grins, poking his head into the room. “I knew you’d do that, close ‘em.”
He slowly makes his way over to you, lightly humming the tune of ‘happy birthday’ as he walks towards you. Stopping once he gets to your feet, kneeling in front of you with a homemade cake in hand, smiling at you with admiration as you open your eyes. “Make a wish.”
Beaming at him, you blow out the candles as you silently made your wish. “Did you make that yourself?” You ask as your eyes darted over the icing and decorations. “No way you made that.”
“Why? Is it bad?” A playful expression spreads across his features.
“God, no. It’s incredible… thank you.”
“I watched a couple videos online.” He chuckles, sitting beside you with the cake in his lap. “Go on…” grinning as he pulled two forks from his pyjama bottom pocket.
“Not got a knife?” You laugh, eyeing him as he passed you the utensil.
“Nah… actually, you know what. Dinner is on its way.”
“Nah, cake first,” you waft your hand, dismissing him as you picked up a fork. “What’d you get for dinner?”
“Surprise.” He wryly grins, avoiding your questioning.
For the rest of the evening, you ate dinner from your favourite takeout spot as you binged on shitty reality tv and junk food. Appreciating one another’s presence as you enjoyed your quiet birthday night-in with your charming boyfriend.
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@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @v1ntage-daydr3am @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things @woffelle
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dandylovesturtles · 1 year
Text
TMNT AU Propaganda whooo
Hello, I'm back again. With fic this time.
I bingeread all of Call Me Here (I Will Appear) by @callmehere-iwillappear a little while back and it's so good! So heartbreaking but so heartwarming at the same time! And with both IMBI and CMH both being in the @tmntaucompetition we decided they are ghost buddies, and then they drew this adorable artwork and I had to write a little something because listen I need good things to happen to both of these boys.
So here you go! And please vote for both I May Be Invisible and Call Me Here in the TMNT AU polls tomorrow!
(And also 2 Arms Left, those boys aren't really in this fic but listen if you vote for both IMBI and 2AL then Ell and I will face off in the next round please it's so funny-)
cough ANYWAY HERE'S THE DRABBLE OK BYE (spoilers for both fics within)
Was getting abruptly kidnapped to an interdimensional sports tournament the weirdest thing that had ever happened to them? Hard to say, but it was certainly a surprise anyway. Right in the middle of Leo's very dramatic catatonia arc, too...
The place is a madhouse. There's so many different versions of himself and his brothers, some of them older, some of them missing limbs, and some of them from different universes entirely. There's cheerleading. There's fighting. There's an older Michelangelo giving all the visible Leos bats for some reason.
Leo guesses he shouldn't be too disappointed that even in this crowd, only his own specific brothers can interact with him; he hasn't had dramatic life-saving encounters with any of these other people, after all. He keeps getting walked through, talked over, and he can't very well take part in the actual basketball playing.
But it's fine! He can vibe! He's so cool with vibing. His brothers seem to be enjoying themselves, after all, and Pizza Supreme knows after the weeks they've been having they deserve something fun and... probably not life-threatening (he's still eying those bats, though). So he can just... watch. Spectate.
So fun.
He's standing by while Raph chats with a whole group of assorted Raphs, surveying the diverse crowd when it happens.
His eyes lock with another Leo's.
The other Leo seems just as startled as he is to be seen - his mouth pops open in surprise, posture going stiff in a mirror of Leo's own reaction. Other than that, there's no immediate signs; he's not see-through, or floating, or anything else one might expect. The only immediate difference he can see is that the three clones of his brothers standing near the other Leo are all wearing their own version of Donnie's goggles.
And yet, he still knows.
"Hey, I'm going over there for a sec," he says over his shoulder to Raph.
"What? Hey, don't wander off!"
"It's fine, big guy, I'll stay in range."
He trots off across the court, not bothering to dodge anyone who steps in his path. The other Leo and his group aren't too far away, and once he gets there, the two of them look each other up and down, like wary dogs unsure about entering another's space.
He gives the other Leo a very serious look, which is mirrored back to him.
And the other Leo starts them off.
"What's a ghost's favorite fruit?"
"Booberries. What's a ghost's favorite car?"
"A Boo-gatti. Why don't ghosts go out in the rain?"
It dampens their spirits. What-"
"Who are you talking to?" the other Donnie asks, turning their way. He has his goggles pulled down. Leo gives him a wave, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"Just another Leo," says the other Leo, before turning back to him. "You can't be seen by the goggles?"
"Nope. That hasn't worked for us."
"But I saw you say something to your Raph."
"Yeah! Raph can hear me, Mikey can see me, and Donnie can touch me."
"Huh. Sounds inconvenient!"
"Oh, it is." Leo shrugs. "Curses, man, what can you do?"
Something quick passes over the other Leo's face; he only notices because it's so like his own. "You were cursed?"
"Yep! Some bad guy thought it would be a good way to get rid of me. You?"
The other Leo's smile droops only slightly. "...Do you know about the Prison Dimension?"
Leo's own smile drops, and he hunches in on himself, which just makes the other Leo's grin slip further. It hurts; he was there, for real, and again too recently in his mind, and now he can say this with certainty, with clarity:
No Leo deserved that.
But this Leo, who has persisted after death, who's with his family now... even if it's a tragedy, Leo can admire that. And they can see him - they can apparently hear him, and Leo knows from experience that that's everything.
(And still not quite enough.)
"...That sucks," he says, because what else do you say?
The other Leo shrugs, looking a little self-conscious. "It's not too bad. Donnie's making me a body."
"Oh, that'll be sweet." Leo picks his grin back up. "Wait, can you actually touch stuff? Are you going to haunt a robot?"
"I can if I focus." He looks smug. "It takes practice, but I'm getting better."
"Whoa, nice. I can't touch anything other than Donnie. Can't float or anything, either."
"Me either!" The other Leo throws his arms up dramatically. "What a ripoff, right?"
Leo matches the movement. "That's what I've been saying!"
"Man. It's nice to finally talk to someone who understands."
"Heh, same here," says Leo. He reaches out to give the other Leo a friendly pat on the shoulder.
He expects his hand to just pass through. He doesn't expect it to connect.
It's not really feeling, not like when he touches Donnie. It's more like when he touches his own body - his hand stops moving through the air, but he's not getting any tactile sensation from it.
He doubts the other Leo can really feel it either, but the way his eyes latch on the point of contact tells Leo everything he needs to know.
He doesn't hesitate, just wraps his arm around the other Leo and pulls him in for a hug. He doesn't resist, just puts his own arms around Leo, and he can't feel it but he's pretty sure he's holding tight.
He doesn't ask how long it's been since he's been hugged; he feels like he doesn't have to.
They stay that way almost a minute (and he's glad for their reputation as Leos that no one can see them), before the other Leo pulls back. His eyes are glassy and his smile wavering, but it's real and it's there, and Leo can't help but smile back.
He decides to save them before this gets too mushy.
"Hey, you said you can touch things, right?"
"If I focus."
"Well!" Leo moves so his arm is draped around the other Leo's shoulders, walking him toward one of the goals. "Get ready to focus on making sick dunks."
Instantly, the other Leo's eyes light up with delight. "Ooooh ho ho ho yes. We are going to freak some people out!"
He offers his fist, and Leo gleefully bumps it.
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fishsticksloser · 11 months
Note
Can i request rottmnt HC of future mikey and future leo with their motger reader (human female reader)? (If you can, can you add future Donnie and future raph?)
Like the boys came from the future and after saving earth from invasion they miss their whole family and try to catch up with everything, what would reader react if she knew what happened to her precious babies in the future?
Like they ate rats, they didn't sleep on good beds or knowing she and splinter passed away when they were kids?
Destruction, Loss, & Death
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F!RotTMNT + fem!reader
Warnings: angst, familial fluff, all the boys are from different points of the Kraang future for extra angst :), no tcest!!!, this is really long
A/N: haha... this isn't a hc... this is a fic because I can, hope you don't mind. :) I need some more angst, its my favorite genre. This took a while to write... :/
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Leo looked around. He saw Mikey, still intact, he raced over and hugged his younger brother tight. Mikey was a little confused, but he felt Leo shaking as he cried and squeezed him a little tighter. A much bigger set of arms wrapped around them. They both look up and see Raph. Leo let's go and hugs Raph even tighter, whispering apologizes. They let go of each other, Raph wipes stray tears from Leo's face telling him it's not his fault. There was just one turtle missing, Donnie. Leo looked around for his twin, missing his stupid face.
"Leo?" Leo spins around, hearing the purple turtle's voice. Their eyes meet and Leo pulls him into a hug. Donnie wrapped his arms around Leo, his own tears falling. This time, though, Donnie was the one apologizing. Raph and Mikey joined them, each talking about what happened before they got wherever they were.
"We were sending Casey back in time to stop the Kraang. Mikey opened the portal and-" Leo choked out. "It's all my fault..."
"Boys?" All 4 boys turn, hearing your voice. You had heard a commotion and told Splinter you'd investigate. You saw older versions of your sons, holding each other.
"Mom!" They all say together, hugging you. You felt your shirt wetting with the tears of your sons. You led them to sit, Splinter joining you.
"What's going on?" You ask. "Are you okay?"
"My sons..." Splinter places his hands on Raph and Leo's faces, before moving to do the same to the other 2.
"You... You were dead..." Mikey sniffs. "I don't understand..."
"It seems like we travelled back in time." Donnie said. "All of us are from different points in the apocalypse. Raph is from before he died, I'm from before I died... 4 years later. Mikey is after I die, before sending Casey back... Leo is right after Mikey dies..."
"You 2 died really early in the apocalypse." Leo states, his prosthetic hissed as he rolled it forward. "You've been dead for 20 years..."
"I can't imagine what you boys went through."
The boys told you about the apocalypse. Rats were a constant menu item, Splinter responded with "we are quite tasty." Your heart broke for your boys. But you couldn't comfort them all at once.
Leo seemed to have the most demons, living through everyone's deaths, feeling guilty for the apocalypse, having to lead everyone. You went to him first, the others sharing stories with Splinter.
"Leo..." You gently rub your hand over his head to the back of his neck, tears coming to his eyes as he looks as you. "None of this is your fault, please know that. No one blames you."
"How? How do you know that?" He grits, nonexistent eyebrows drawn down. "How can't they hate me? I'm the one and only cause. I'm the reason all of you died. It should've been me!"
"You didn't know what was at stake, you were 16. That never should've been on your shoulders."
"But I failed... I failed you, I failed Raph, Donnie, Mikey, April, Casey, Cassandra, Dad... I am the reason for all of this."
"You didn't know what the key was. The only people at fault were the ones meant to protect it and those reckless enough to use it. You are not at fault. You need to forgive yourself."
"How...?" His voice cracks as he leans forward burying his head in your chest, like he did when he was upset as a child. Your thumbs rub the back of his neck and shell. You lean down and kiss the crown of his head softly.
"By letting go..."
You stay and soothed Leo for over an hour. He let out everything. All of his grief, anger, anxiety. He sobbed until he ran out of tears, but continued to cry as he clung desperately to your shirt as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Soon, though, he fell asleep, all the sobbing exhausting him.
So you were on to your next subject, Raph. It would've been Mikey, but he and Donnie were still talking to their father, Raph had moved away.
"Raphael." You hum, pulling him close. He held you tight, a sad smile on his face. You kiss his forehead, his eyes closed as you did so.
"I'm so sorry, Mom..." He sighs, relaxing in your grasp. "I should've been there to protect you and Dad... To protect them."
"Raphael, you have done that and so much more." You answer.
"You died... They died... I should've done better. Should've helped Leo more, he wasn't ready for all of this."
"Neither were you. You were 17. This shouldn't have ever be your boys' burden."
"I wish you were with us..."
"I'm here now."
Raph pulled you into his arms, his massive stature made you seem like a doll, you're practically the same size as his torso. His arms held you tight, like if he let go, you'd disappear. But he let you go, knowing you had 2 other turtles to attend to.
Mikey came to you. Hugging you once again. His was softer. He wasn't riddled with as much guilt as his older brothers. He understood what would come and what had already passed.
"I missed you, Mom." Mikey gasped, pulling away to look at you. "I wonder what you would've looked like as a grandma."
"Angelo, you look so much older." You hold his face in your hands, he leans into them. "So much wiser... So much wiser than Splinter." Mikey laughs, tears coming to his eyes.
"I wish you could've seen baby Casey. How we all raised him together. All the stupid things we got into with him."
"I will. I have my boys. I will make sure of it."
Mikey kissed your palms before heading off to see Raph. For some reason you had a feeling you had to get to Donnie quickly, like you were running out of time.
"Donato!" You call. Donnie runs to you, picking you up in a hug. He sets you down and you run your thumbs under his eyes. "Oh... You look so tired..."
"I am." He breathes, his eyes falling closed. "I've worked so hard, Mom... And it means nothing..."
"Donatello, you saved your brothers and thousands of others from the Kraang. I would call that nothing."
"They why do they die? Why did you die? I'm not good enough..."
"You are everything to me, to Splinter, to your brothers. Donnie, you are a gift. Just like the other 3. I wouldn't change my life for anything. I'm sure the me in your timeline would agree."
He doesn't answer, tears slipping down his cheeks. He wasn't a crier, really he wasn't. He hated crying, he felt weak. Now though, it felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He felt calm again.
Splinter and his brothers soon joined you. You all gathered together, clinging like they were your lifeline.
After who knows how long, it was just you and Splinter, in an empty house.
"Mom! Dad! Guess what!?" You hear your boys come to the living room. Your very alive, still young, sons.
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argentumcor · 3 months
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The Price of a Bullet
You can find the whole fic posted here, covering Jason's experiences during Arkham Knight.
Notes and thoughts if they interest you:
-I do think Jason was written consistently between AK Genesis, AK, and the Red Hood DLC. There's a complaint that he wasn't, and an accompanying complaint that the Knight is whiny, but that's assuming a level of emotional stability that he doesn't have. Reading AK Genesis, it's clear that Jason's narration regarding Bruce is cope, a product of his time in captivity and the Joker's mental conditioning. Bruce does care- he's just bad at showing it. That's clear in his interactions with the rest of the family, even Dick who would have known him before the haunting loss of Jason. On top of this, Jason spent most of his life from the day he was born being told he was worthless verbally and via physical abuse. Trust comes hard to him. The Joker in the Arkham games is very good at spotting things he can exploit about people, and when Jason was talking to buy time for Batman to come save him, he probably heard Jason's low sense of self-worth (self-esteem doesn't cover it), the perfect thing to use to break Jason to harness.
-Jason's snark is present as the Knight here and there on comms. He's not stable, though, unlike his depictions in other media. The "whiny" tone people complain about is more mania coming through as he gets close to his goal and his programming comes undone. This, I think, was an interesting way to split the baby- in the comics Jason being unstable is a concern of Bruce's to rather...extreme...extent (and unfounded, he isn't unstable except for inconsistent characterization like the rest of the DC cast). What is happening in AK is someone grindingly finding himself dragged back to reality after living in madness for a long time (no way in hell did he "escape" as late as Asylum; let's say it's been five years minimum and it happened during some other breakout).
-A quiet theme in the Arkham games, and in a lot of the better Batman media, is "truth beats lies." Batman beats out fear toxin, beats out Hatter's hypnosis, overcomes the Joker's mental infection because they're all founded on things that are not true. As such, Jason- as his student and his son- is able to overcome the lies the Joker and Harley put into his head in the end.
-It's beyond clear in game he has no respect for Scarecrow qua Scarecrow or any of the other villains he's pulled into this plan. People are mad about that, but he's hyperfocused and obsessive. It's a video game (sillier, yes, I said it) version of his plan, if for different motives, from Under the Red Hood.
-Dini might not have written AK but I'm pretty sure his notes were used or something. It has a lot of the elements I associate with his Batman writing- Bruce as deeply fallible, for one, the Joker as an unsympathetic and very real threat and charismatic. I think Dini found Jason's story a well of potential, based on how BTAS Tim is actually mostly Jason, how Return of the Joker's Tim plot is AK Jason's plot, and how Terry has a lot of Jason's attitude. Dini, for all his oddities as a writer in some respects, has a real gift for spotting things to punch up a character and situation.
-It's funny to me how Tim is the 'generic Robin' of the group so his characterization just gets kind of tossed around wherever the winds are blowing. I like Arkham Tim as the grounded reliable one, but he's Basically Jason in BTAS and in the comics his characterization seems particularly up in the air.
-The Arkham games are very silly, objectively- the whole thing with Titan, the entire idea of Arkham City, the Joker disease and how Bruce beats it, and so much more- but not to themselves. It's a story about a guy wearing a bat-inspired costume and being a vigilante. It is silly. The platonic ideal of a Batman story is silly with a violent dark aspect, cynical about human nature but hopeful about the power of love (brotherly, familial, romantic, agape, etc.), and it takes itself seriously within itself. From these can flow many things, profound, funny, and entertaining alike, and they coexist smoothly. I think the important thing with fiction is to meet it where it's at, especially as a writer, and this is especially true of these IP (modern myth, that's what they are) stories.
-Going through the game for Jason's timeline has been revealing about things I think were trimmed/changed. I'm pretty sure there's a missing Knight boss fight when Batman takes down the air defenses, because Jason just bolts for no reason (I rolled with this in the fic), to let Batman do as he pleases. I also think the vehicle boss fight vs. Jason in the grinder was supposed to be more complex instead of doing the same thing the whole time, but that's generally true of the vehicle combat: mechanically, it needed another pass across the board to make it a less repetitive experience.
-The Red Hood DLC should have been Jason fighting his way to the Asylum where he saves Bruce's life at the climax, potentially with contact with Oracle or even Nightwing which would have been interesting as hell. I really wish all the DLCs would have given us something at the scale of A Death in the Family; I really like these versions of the characters.
-I recommend this sort of fic, where you follow a plot through an alternate POV character, as a writing exercise. It has the merit of having known constraints you don't have to come up with but some creative give to figure out how the POV character got from point A to point B or figured out something or why he did something.
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weirdozjunkary · 11 months
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Been thinking about the movie version of the MVA AU and how it would play out in that universe. So I created a small Tumblr exclusive fic of how I think it would go down. Honestly it’s not that vastly different from the movie, but that’s just how I like to write au tie-ins. Enjoy and happy reading!
The big problem
(a movie MVA AU oneshot)
The night was dark, and so was the house. As sonic had turned off every light in the house in order to create the best movie watching experience. He was still vibrating with exitement from earlier in the day, two full days to himself. Left home alone with Ozzie while Tom and Maddie visited Rachel for her wedding.
As much as he wanted to go, they all nunanamously agreed that it would be best for sonic to stay at home. Rachel still wasn’t accustomed to the brown hedgehog that had warranted himself child status in the wachowski house. Plus the people outside of green hills didn’t exactly know about him yet, nor was he really allowed to let them know about him.
So here he was, the couch l pushed in, practically inches from the tv, front row seats for the blue hedgehog and his non alien animal companion right beside him.
“Alright Ozzie-bozzie! It’s movie night at cassa-de-Sonic! And as esteemed second in place animal companion, you can pick the movie this time!” He twirled the remote in his hand. “Just don’t pick any of the channels next to the news ones, those movies SUCK!”
The tv shut off, and just as quickly became a noise of static. The sudden roar caused Sonic to practically leap from his seat in surprise.
“NO!” He yelled. He pressed his face to the tv and pleaded. “YOU CAN'T DO THIS! DON'T DIE ON ME! DON'T DIE ON MOVIE NIGHT!!!” Ozzie’s bark snapped him out of his delusion. “You’re right ozzie.” He said, wiping a dramatic tear from his eye. “If I'm gonna save movie night, I’m gonna need to get to the source! Be right back!” And he zipped away in a blink of an eye.
Up on the roof the speedy hedgehog pulled up a heavy box of tools, prepared to use as many as he needed to save the night he always dreamed of having since he met Tom and Maddie. Well, more like stalked, as up until a year ago, they weren’t really… accustomed, yet. Though, he most likely wouldn’t need a full box of tools on a satellite dish.
“Hmm, looks like mister Jet hasn’t come back to build his nest on the dish again.” He folded his arms and stuck his head up in a snobbish manner. “Good! I don’t want to see that dumb hawk again! Stupid jerk! Stealing my chilidog…!” He looked back at the dish. “Oh, right! Movie night!”
He popped open the box and pulled out a screwdriver. “Let’s do it to it!” And he began his work. He wasn’t really fixing the problem, more like just messing with the dish. He’s seen Tom try his hand at fixing it once or twice before, but he didn’t really understand what he was doing. Still, he was going to try and get this thing working again, zipping back and forth from the living room and back up onto the roof to see if the static had went away. But it didn’t, in fact, what he was doing seemed to make the situation worse, as the static began to have an eerie green glow to it.
“What the heck am I doing wrong?” Sonic puzzled, scratching his head with the end of the screwdriver. “It can’t be that hard to fix a satellite!” He banged the end of the screwdriver against the dish. “Come on you stupid thing! Work!”
There was a blur, a flurry of green and browns and neutrals that flooded his eyes till everything went black. His vision had only just begun to come through as the pain did. A soreness that was all around his body, but mostly on his head and back. It was a familiar pain. Similar to when he fought Robotnik for the first time and won. But Robotnik wasn’t here. At least he didn’t think he was here.
There was something else. A shade of golden that pulled him out of the rubble of the living room by his arm. Through his blurred vision he could only suspect it being Ozzie.
He lifted himself up, using him as a crutch as the world still wobbled like his legs did. “Good boy Oz.” He mumbled and petted his companion weakly. Ozzie stayed next to him as he helped guide the disoriented hedgehog to the hallway. Sonic was a trooper though. As just like before, his vision finally focused again, though the room still swayed like he was on a boat.
A deafening click entered his eardrums, snapping him back to reality. The sound made his stomach drop and he grew seasick in his stomach once again, though he didn’t know if it was from whatever had happened on the roof or not. No, it wasn’t from the roof. As the door opened, Sonic was face to face with the man he thought he’d never see again. Standing right there, illuminated by the porch light, was Dr. Robotnik.
“Hello, hedgehog.” He said through a wide grin. “Did you miss me?”
“Eggman?!” Sonic sad in disbelief. He half expected this to be a hallucination from hitting his head to hard. The headache he had should be proof of it. But no. He was here. Somehow. “I don’t know how you got back. But you made a big mistake coming here!”
“On the contrary. The only mistake here was thinking that you had won. But that was but a prelude to what I have planned for you! An hors d’oeuvre, an aperitif, an-“
“I get it!” Sonic growled.
“Oh-Ho Ho! I don’t think you do!” That creepy smile stretched farther across the mad doctors face as he finally stepped into the house. “But you’re about to… and so will that idiot sherif and his wife! And your little dog, too!”
He had enough of this. Sonic charged at Robotnik, ignoring his body's cries for him to rest. But he couldn’t get near him, as a split second before he could give the old doctor what for, a gloved fist careened into his face.
Sonic flew back into the living room which had more mess to clean up as he had been sent flying through a wall. That feeling of dizziness and discomfort came back to him as he slowly stood back up and faced his threat. There, standing through the hole in the wall was a figure he never thought he’d see again, not robotnik, but an echidna.
He was large and muscular, thick red fur coated his body, and he had spines that draped down and framed his face like thick dreads that could be a weapon of their own. But the real weapon was his fists, as large spines poked out from the bottom of his gloves. He stared down Sonic with a fury in his eyes he had never seen before, and while he said nothing, his expression told a thousand words to the hedgehog.
“Now where are my manners!” Robotnik butted in. “Sonic, I would like you to meet, Knuckles! My new BFFAE— Bested Friend Forever And Ever!” That wide grin was still stretched across his face.
How in all of green hills did he manage to do this— to get an echidna on his side? Especially him, one that looked like he would snap Sonic in two if he took even just a single step. He looked like Robotnik’s guard dog. No. He was his weapon.
“Look robotnik, I don’t care who you’ve brought to help you. I’m not going to let you walk in here and take my home from me!” Sonic’s fur crackled with energy as he stared them both down. The feeling felt odd, though. But he didn’t pay any attention to it.
“I am not here for your pathetic home!” The echidna growled at him.
Those words enraged Sonic, and he bared his gums to the red echidna. His eyes and quills began to glow, but it wasn’t amber like it had been before, no. The colour now had turned to a bright, almost neon, green. He clenched his fists tightly as green electricity crackled around his fur. Though he was furious, he was still scared.
Of course he would be, this echidna was part of the same clan that had made him hide for most of his life, that made him run from his home, that took his guardian, Longclaw from him. But here, he wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to this one. He won’t let it be taken from him again. Sonic reeled back a fist and…
“AAAAAAGH!”
Sonic wrapped his arms around himself and began screaming as pain began to overwhelm his body. His yell managed to make even the echidna and doctor pause in surprise.
“W-WHAT IS… GOING ON!!! AAAAAAH!!!” He shouted once more as the green electricity began to crackle around the room, and as well, his height suddenly jolted from 3-feet to 5-feet.
Robotnik reeled back in disbelief. “Um, what?!”
“Deceiver! You never told me he had the master emerald!” Knuckles barked at the doctor.
“The, uh, master-what-now?”
“I am talking about the device that wields ultimate power! Something that that hedgehog now has possession of!”
Another painful yell from Sonic made them jolt again in surprise. His height had doubled again, now he was 10-feet.
“Wait, ‘Ultimate power’ you say?” Robotnik said quietly to himself, partly ignoring the hedgehog who was still groaning and crying as his body kept passing each foot, his fur and quills changing its colour with it. He grinned gleefully as a sinister plan began to cross his mind. “Now you speaky my language!”
“HELP…. ME…. AAAAAAAH!!!” Sonic shouted again and his height jolted once more. 25-feet. He could barely fit in the living room now. His back pressed against the ceiling making it bend and crack. He continued to cry and howl in pain. Whatever was happening to him wasn’t done yet.
Knuckles ran out of the house to the backyard with robotnik trailing on not far behind. They had made it out just in time, as only a few seconds after, the hedgehog had finally bursted out of the side of the house, sending rubble flying across the yard.
“HOLY GEARS AND STARTERS!” Robotnik shouted in awe. He gripped the sides of his head that was reeling from the sight he was witnessing.
Sonic stumbled out of the house, his feet breaking more of the rubble beneath him. He panted and huffed, still feeling awful and tingly from the pain that now faded with him along with the green electricity. It was only a couple more seconds for the vertigo to subside, and he finally saw what had happened to him.
His fur and quills were now a bright blue colour, and they were all messy and ragged from the electricity that shot out of him only a few moments ago. But that wasn’t what made his stomach drop, no. He realized he had suddenly grown 50-feet in only a few minutes.
“Holy crap…” Sonic exhaled in fright. He looked down at his feet. The deck was completely ruined. Broken boards that had snapped against his weight. They were so small now. Everything was so small now.
A bark fell into his ears making him whip his head around to the house. It was Ozzie. Oh no, please don’t let him be hurt.
“Ozzie!” Sonic yelped in fright. “Oh, no no no no! Please be okay!” He knelt down, sending a knee crashing into the wooden floor that broke as soon as it had collided with it. He dug through the rubble, tossing it out to the yard behind him. “Ozzie! Ozzie!” He called out to his canine friend. He heard him bark once more. There, just outside of the living room. He was okay.
“Ozzie!” Sonic shouted in relief and in a flash, he grabbed the retriever in his hands and hoisted him up to his face. “Oh my god I’m so glad you’re okay!” He exhaled through teary eyes, relieved he wasn’t hurt. Ozzie didn’t seem to have any change of view of him, as he wagged his tail at the sight of the now massive hedgehog that held him up carefully.
“Um excuse me! We are right here!” Robotnik shouted.
His voice pierced his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard, and Sonic’s relieved expression faltered. He slowly placed his companion back in the house. “Stay here Ozzie. I’ll be right back.” He said gently to him before he turned to Knuckles and Robotnik.
“What did you do to me?!” His voice boomed.
“Me?! I didn’t do anything to you this time!” Robotnik said. “Though I have to say, it is a good look on you!”
“What he looks like doesn’t matter.” Knuckles bellowed. “No matter your size, I will still strike you down and take the power of the master emerald from you! Even if I have to rip it out of you one cell at a time!”
“Master emerald…?” Sonic muttered in surprise. He looked at his feet again. That old bedtime story that Longclaw had told him many times before. It was actually real? It’s what made him like this?
“Face me, giant!” Knuckles shouted. “Or are you now a coward?” He made Sonic’s eyes glide back to him. “You are unworthy to hold such immense power that belongs to my tribe! The size you are now is proof enough! Now will you stand and fight? Or will you lay down your life to me?”
Slowly, Sonic stood up and shifted away from the house that he had broken a hole through the side of it. He clenched his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the echidna below him. Robotnik slowly shimmied away to avoid the crossfire.
“Alright, you want me…” He raised his fists and took a stance. “Then come get me!”
A pleased toothy grin stretched over the echidnas face. Finally, someone who wouldn’t keel over with just one strike from his fists. He reeled back his hand as he stared sonic in the eye, ready to strike him with all his might.
A loud siren shot through the air. It was the last sound that Sonic would had ever expect to hear, especially now. Was it a hallucination? No, they heard it to. As like Sonic, Knuckles and Robotnik turned their attention to the noise, and that was right before a police cruiser broke through the fence and rammed itself into the echidna, driving itself head first into the tree that sat just off of the middle of the yard.
Sonic was in disbelief. How, or even why did this happen? Who was even driving this thing? Was it Wade? Or… The door flung open and a little yellow fox tumbled out of it. A yellow fox… an alien. Just like him.
“Agh! I’m okay!” He huffed. Boy, did he sound young, he looked young. This kid looked to be no more than 8 years old, and yet he was here driving a police car. You have to be at least 18 to be able to drive one of those!
“Uh, I’m sorry. Who are you?” Sonic said.
“Don’t worry, I’m on your side!” The young fox said as he stood up straight. “My name is-“ He paused once he caught sight of him. “Oh gosh! I came too late!”
“What?” Sonic exclaimed in confusion. “What are you even-“ Knuckles’ groaning cut him off, as he finally had begun to wake up from being knocked out and pinned by the police cruiser. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We need to move!”
He grabbed the fox and dashed away at the speed of sound, creating a violent gust of wind trailing behind him. He left just in time, as the red echidna unwedged himself from the car and just as fast began tailing them behind.
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sgt-scottymoreau · 3 months
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No title for this one as it's 3 small short fics I wanted to share just for fun and a little bit out of the main series. The short stories were written after I finished MWIII back then. It has a lot of mix feelings in them and maybe some OCC. I really needed to get some stuff out of the system. Also mostly posting them because I finally got the courage to write my own fic about the game with a lot of changes lol Ain't no way Soap remain dead nope! He will be save in my version! So technically these short are not canon for me (had tem with the note Fake Canon in my files)
Enjoy!
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Goodbye Soap (Words: 975 / Warning: Mention of death)
She rushed through the crossover with Gaz and Ghost. The urgency was high. The police agents with Price and Soap were KIA, Makarov's bomb was still armed and the Russian was on his way to the two men. Never in her life did she feel out of breath like she did right now. It wasn't the running or constant shooting at Konnis. No, it was something different. A bad feeling that had her by the throat. When they finally reached the bomb site, Scotty's mind went on auto-pilot at soon as she saw him. The corner of her eyes catched Malarov fleeing with his Konnis, the other saw Price to the bomb. Gaz shouted at the captain to get on the bomb. "Soap said we need to cut the red wire. Only red!"
The rest of the conversation went into a blurr. She kneeled next to Soap, Ghost also by. He called out his name. "Johnny!" Her eyes trailed on the pool of blood, the injury on his head. Her hands let go of her gun, instinctively rested on his shoulder and her fingers clenched on his jacket. 
"Soap…" The knot in her throat gew thighter. Her hand clenched till her knuckles went white. Her eyes meet Ghost's. They both saw it in each other; the pain. The sadness. Scotty barely paid attention to what was being said from Gaz or Price. They were probably telling Laswell about the one KIA and how Makarov escaped. Her breathing got heavier, her vision blurred. It wasn't the first time she lost a friend on the field. It happened in the army. But it has been a while since. And after all they went through together, she never expected it to happen. 
"Scotty! Hey! Camille!" Ghost's voice finally reached her and brought her back to reality. But her mind only had Makarov. Without a word, she grabbed her gun back, ran to the door he had escaped and threw the weapon at it. Pointless as the door was massive and made of metal, it was made to resist in case of flood in the tunnel.
"Fucking Makarov! You fucking bastard!" She screamed followed by another scream of pure rage and pain that echoed in the tunnels. It was chilling. She took back the gun and banged on the door with it. Scotty still had enough clarity to know bullets would only ricochets. Till Gaz came to stop her. He looked at her with as much sadness as she was filled with. The rage in her eyes slowly died down. "He killed him… he killed Soap." Her voice was weak. 
"I know. We know." Gaz whispered. Her gun fell to the ground. "Come here." He opened his arms and she buried herself in them. Ghost watched in the distance, Price standing next to him. None of them ever saw her like this before but they all understood her pain. Ghost also lost a friend, one of the very few people he trusted. They all knew the risks, yet… they couldn't shake off those feelings. Ghost looked at Soap. His friend… family was gone. Again, he had lost his family. 
"I'm sorry Johnny." He whispered, emotion taking him by the throat as well. 
****
A few days later, the four of them were standing on the edge of the hill. Sunset in the distance. Somewhere on the coast of Scotland. They knew Soap would have agreed with this place. They stood in silence for a moment. Even Gaz had removed his cap. Scotty held Ghost's hand. Her fingers softly squeezed it from time to time. Her eyes kept looking forwards, she heard Price's voice in the wind. Ghost's fingers gently slipped away from hers. From the corner, she watched as he bent to pick up the urn in the bag. One by one the men said something. When her turn came, her eyes filled with tears again. She couldn't stand seeing the urn. But she had to say something. "My best friend, the brother I never had." Her lips quivered, her voice cracked on a few words. Ghost opened the urn and the ashes scattered in the wind. The four of them stood there to watch. Scotty felt the emotions grow bigger and bigger, but she didn't want to break down in front of Gaz and Price. Not again. She did enough on the day itself and at the funeral. Her eyes remained glued to the horizon, till Gaz and Price left leaving only her and Ghost. 
"Camille?" Ghost worried. Her face was turning red, she was holding her breath and the silent tears rolled down. "It's alright, love. You can let go."
No scream. Only sobbing as she crouched. Standing felt like too much. Ghost kneeled to her height and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. The past days had been hard for both, but at least they still had each other. "Why. Why him!" She sobbed loudly. "Motherfucker like Graves fucking lives, but life as to take good guys like Soap! Fuck! Fuck everything! Simon… it fucking hurts and it won't stop… I want it to stop." 
"I know, love. We all want it, trust me." He pulled her closer into his arms. His grip tightened as he also felt some tears on the back of his eyes. She always reminded him of Soap, these two were so much alike. Seeing her like this, broken, it only made it worse for him. He wanted to see her back to her old self. Hear laugh and smile. But this would only come with time. For now, they had to grief their best friend. They stayed in each other arms till she calmed down, till their body ached from remaining in the same position for so long and when Price came to tell them it was time to go home. 
Revenge (Words: 1k / Warning: Violence)
This was the last stretch. After another long game of cat and mouse, after having Makarov slipping away so many times, they had him pinned. The 141 finally got the upper hand, they were two steps ahead of him. Even if they were running after him right now. 
"Ghost, Scotty, take the left! Gaz with me on the right!" Price shouted. 
They will corner him. Makarov found himself running in the old building's hallway, alone with no back up, only a pistol with no mag left. He wasn't the kind of man to be afraid, far from it, but he knew when he was about to be beaten. That enraged him. They ruined his plan back then in London, and they did again here. He swore that if he could make it, Price and his task force would win again. The russian quickly found himself in a dead end. He cursed. 
"Drop your fucking weapon!" Ghost shouted, his own gun pointed at him. 
Makarov did not. He didn't back down, instead firing what was left of ammo to the lieutenant. Ghost fell back, as a few bullets hit him. Scotty grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back to cover. "You good?" Panic was obvious in her tone. There was no denying that this brought back unpleasant memories. 
"I'm good, plate stopped most of them." Most as one did graze his upper arm and he was bleeding. More unpleasant memories, that one time in Las Almas. Scotty felt all emotions boiling up. She had to keep them in control. She leaned from cover and pressed the trigger. Nothing. She kept pulling it but no firing. She let out a curse. The worst moment for a stuck gun. If they didn't do anything now Makarov would escape. She looked for her side gun, forgetting she lost it earlier when they took down all the remaining Konnis protecting their boss. She turned to Ghost to use his, however he had dropped it when the bullets hit him. The sergeant leaned out of cover to see it, just as Makarov did. Their eyes met. In a fraction of second both jumped towards it. Scotty slid on the ground, actually kicking the gun out of reach for both. Makarov turned on his heel to attempt a second time to get it, but her feet locked around his leg and he tripped. He flipped on his back, kicking her on time before she could jump on him. Scotty stepped back holding her stomach. It did hurt. Makarov pushed himself up ready to make a run for it. She quickly reacted by throwing herself at him. They struggled again, till she eventually had him pinned down under her. 
"What now, Moreau?" He taunted. 
"Don't say my name you fucking son of a bitch!" She raged between her teeth. A feeling she thought she had buried long ago, seemed to surface again. 
"Why jump on me, when you could have used your knife?" She realized almost too late what he meant, when his hand reached for her throwing knife. Scotty grabbed his wrist, flipped his arm away, swiftly took her knife and stabbed him in the palm. Makarov groaned in pain. 
"No… No, that would be too easy." The light in her eyes grew darker. "A bullet or a knife in the heart? Too easy. Choking you would be the same… You are a monster for what you did. Sacrificing your own people for a war? Disgusting."
"Lecture me as you want, we both know it won't change a thing."
"Indeed. It won't bring them back. It won't bring back Soap..."
"MacTavish?" Pain jolted in his jaw as she punched him.
"Don't say his name!" She shouted. "Don't you dare! You killed him! You killed my best friend!" Another hit on the opposite side. "And just now you almost killed Ghost!" 
Makarov spat blood, a cocky smile on his face. "Afraid to lose Riley? I wonder why. You are close, right."
She yelled at him to shut up. Rage boiled in every inch of her body. Then, her mind snapped. The memories of Soap lying down in a puddle of blood, motionless, glassy eyes, all while Makarov was running away. "You killed my best friend…" She said softly. But the look she had in her eyes sent chills down his spine. There was no emotion, no life in them. 
Ghost watched in the distance. He saw it all. How her back straightened, how the atmosphere felt heavy and then the noises of punches. The cry from the russian as his bones broke under the impact. Her ragged breath, her cries as the pain from a few months prior resurfaced. He saw the blood tainting her first, splattering everywhere. Price and Gaz finally joined up. The sergeant made sure he was ok, the captain went to check on her. "Scotty? Scotty! Hey!" He tried to approach, but he risked getting hurt. "Camille!"
Hearing her name seems to snap her out of her trance. Scotty's fist lowered down and she slowly turned to face her captain. Price's eyes widened, so did Gaz and Ghost's. They knew she was capable of many things. Just like Soap, she did fight the whole world if needed. But none ever saw such a display. Her face was covered with blood splatter, knuckles were red, her clothes were also tainted. Tears mixed with the red on her cheeks. Under her, Makarov lay still, motionless, in a very bad shape. Price placed two fingers on his neck to find no pulse. He turned back to Scotty who was shaking. He put his hand on her shoulder and forced her to look at him, to have her anchored to reality. "It's alright, lass, it's all over. Take a deep breath." He was surprised that she was capable of killing a man with her bare hands. It was a mess. 
Ghost, with the help of Gaz, lowered himself to her height. What she just did was horrifying, at least in the eyes of a commoner. He was still unsure, but… "Johnny would like that." He said with a smile behind his mask. Despite the injured arm, the blood covering her, he pulled her into a hug. Makarov was dead, but it would never change what he did. 
Dumb move (Words: 938 / Warning: None)
Scotty, Gaz and Ghost were casually talking. Joking around, remembering their lost friend. It took them a while to be able to talk of him without feeling an atrocious pain. It still left them with a bitter feeling, but it was bearable. Price joined their table. "What are you talking about, lads?"
"We were talking about Soap." Gaz said with a faint smile. 
"He would have loved to kick Graves." Scotty added. 
"I guess we have to do it for him now." Ghost finished. "And Shepherd as well."
"That won't be a problem." Price muttered. Or he thought so, he swore he said it softly enough but the look on the three operatives made him realize. They heard him. 
"What do you mean boss?" Gaz wondered. Price knew that he wouldn't be able to keep the secret from them. Not for long anyway. So he explained to them what he did. Gaz and Ghost didn't react too much. This was not surprising coming from their captain and Scotty knew that as well. But something didn't quite sit right with her. The execution of his plan. 
"So you put a target on all of us then?" Her tone was dry. Her face was serious and she glared at the Captain. 
"He put a target on himself the moment he sent Graves after my team." He replied in the same tone. 
"Sure. But isn't entering the pentagon or whenever Shepherd was, walking, shooting him and walking out was a brilliant idea? I don't fucking think so."
"Camille?" Ghost frowned behind his mask. That was unusual from her. 
"Oh please Simon! For fuck sake! Never crossed your brain that they will investigate? That they will check who's the last person who had access to his office? They will check camera footage. Fingerprint even! He was a fucking 4 star general for fuck sake!"
"I had to do it." Price growled. He leaned against the table, his hand clenching in a fist. "He betrayed us, lied to save his ass in front of the congress. He got his fucking job back like nothing happened. Nothing would have been done about what he did! He could have done whatever shady thing he wanted again. We don't play by the rules anymore."
"Then we are not so different from our enemies." This sent a cold around the table. Ghost and Gaz glanced at each other unsure where to put themselves. 
"Don't you fucking dare say this." Price stood from his seat. Scotty did the same, not afraid of him. "We don't kill innocents! We don't go for civilians like most of them."
"But killing people just because you feel like it, is as disgusting. Make me wonder if you are not gonna kill one of us because we don't agree with you."
Price inhaled loudly. Ghost had stood by then, a hand carefully pressed on Scotty's shoulder. "Ok take it easy you two. That's enough."
"It's a little hypocrite coming from you. If I recall you were willing to kill your own commander back then."
"It was fucking self defense Price! He would have killed me! He almost did! If I had killed him I was in all my right! You and Laswell were there, you saw it!"
"And you were there when Graves and Shepherd betrayed all of us. Fuck, you kno-"
"Yes I was in Las Almas!" She cut him in a shout. "I was there with Soap and Ghost as we were running for our life to fucking make it to the next day! It still doesn't give the right to shoot the man in his office, to risk the team being tracked like war criminals!" 
"Then you didn't truly care for Soap." This washed over Scotty like ice cold water. Even Gaz and Ghost looked at the captain in disbelief. The captain was now a few inches away from her. Gaz placed his hand on his shoulder, applying just enough pressure to tell the captain he wouldn't hesitate to push him away. "You know he would have agreed with me. He would have even helped if I had asked!"
"You take that back… You take what you just said back, Price." 
"What? You didn't care about Soap? Call yourself his best friend and yet you let him down even after death." 
"Shut your fucking mouth!" She screamed at him, tears of rage rolling down her cheeks. Ghost pushed her backwards and so did Gaz with Price.
"Come on Price, this way out of line." Ghost warned. 
"She is the one out of line! No respect for her superior."
"If Soap died because of you! You should have let him kill Makarov back then! His death is one you and killing Shepherd and Graves won't change that! You didn't care about him! And now you don't care about any of us! You are willing to target us as war criminals and I won't have this! This is not what I signed for!"
"Then quit. Like I care! If you can’t get your precious hands dirty then maybe you are not fit for the 141!"
Scotty glared at him, not saying a word. She was beyond hurt at this point. But what would happen if they connected Shepherd's death to Price was not something she wanted to see. "I can do the dirty work, but you captain. Can you take one for the team? Can you own up to your mistake if they catch you? Or will everyone drag one of us with you to the death row?" 
She moved away from Ghost grip, leaving the conversation here, before blood would spill.
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farfromstrange · 1 year
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Hello!
I read Angel on the Roof and that was AMAZING. I was feeling like that way and honestly that was exactly what I needed to read. Thank you for writing!
I have a request! Maybe alternate ending + sequel of the fic if you are interested/have time, where Matt did notice it and in this universe it’s going to be more comforting. OR maybe whole new story where reader is having mental illness, angst but comfort in the end?
Again I LOVE your writing can’t wait for another Matt fics!!! Thank youuuu !!!
Okay, nonnie, first of all, I hope you're doing okay! I hope you're feeling better, too. I know how hard it can be to feel this way and I wrote that fic when I was at one of the lowest points in my life. I'm glad you liked it, but I also hope you're taking good care of yourself! I love you. Now to your request, I re-read Angel On The Roof and I remembered why it was so sad, and I'm so glad you requested a comfort version. I decided to do it from Reader's POV since the original was Matt's POV and I've changed the ending, so it's still the same foundation, but you've also got a whole new fic. I hope you like the way I did it!
Angel On The Roof (Your Version)
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (she/her)
Summary: What if Matt saved you from your own demons instead of being too late?
Warnings: TW: SELF-HARM, graphic descriptions of self-harm, blood, scars, ANGST, mental illness, suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, happy ending, fix it fic for a fic
Word Count: 3k
A/n: So you can read "Angel On The Roof" here. Like I said before, this is the mentioned fic from your POV but with a twist so that it ends without Reader committing suicide. If the above-mentioned topics trigger you, please don't read! Not tagging because this is a sensitive subject and I go really into detail.
18+ THIS IS HEAVY STUFF!
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Mental illness speaks in silence. 
Unlike a broken leg, you can’t see a sickness of the mind. There is no physical proof for the scary truth that something is going not quite right inside of your brain. And because people can’t see it, they have a hard time believing the truth. They have a hard time believing that being sick in the head could even affect you this much, so they try to sell your pain as worth less than it is. How could thoughts possibly turn paralyzing? How could someone’s mind make them feel worthless to the point the affected person sees no other way out but to inflict pain onto themselves? Attention whores, it’s what those people like to call the struggling ones. Lazy, weak, selfish… every mentally ill person has heard one of those words being used to describe them one way or another. 
Mental illness speaks in silence because if we spoke louder, people would only sneer and turn their backs on us. Mental illness speaks in silence because suffering alone seems better than burdening someone else. And mental illness speaks in silence because those who are mentally ill live in a different world. Their heads work differently. Mental illness speaks in silence because pain paralyzes, and silent acts are the only way someone so stuck in the claws of the faceless monster knows how to ask for help. By the time people consider questioning certain behavior though, it is often too late, and the person soon enough feels as if they’re being a burden once more because the judging looks are worse than admitting you need help in the first place. 
The monster that is mental illness is cruel and it has no regard for you or the people around you. It has set out to destroy you, and you feel helpless as it tears a knife through your soul and picks your heart apart piece by piece. And those who say, ‘Just ask for help’ or ‘Don’t be scared to speak up’ clearly don’t know how hard it can be to break out of such a circle once you’re already active in it. 
Self-harm is considered a serious addiction on the roster, but most people see it merely as a symptom of many personality disorders or mood disorders. Those who seemingly know nothing about mental illness even like to call it a call for attention. As if self-mutilation would ever be a conscious choice made by anyone. You try to fight a pain that no one can see and only you can feel, and sometimes, when you feel so much - too much - it gets deafening and you need another pain to balance it out. 
Drugs aren’t the only thing hurting you that can result in addiction. There is a long list of things that harm the mind and body, and that is often used as a coping mechanism for the terrible things most people are forced to feel inside. 
You don’t remember when it started. You only remember that you were merely a child when you first started feeling this way. Helpless, alone, and with a pain deep inside of your chest that had claws and sharp teeth, ready to eat you whole. The monster ate away at you for years, but you ignored it. 
People told you it was just hormones, that this was part of growing up. Meanwhile, you only got sicker. Your mind turned against you. You became your own worst bully, and the voices in your head started taking you apart one by one. 
You reached a point where you loathed yourself so much, all you wanted was to scratch your eyes out and tear your skin off. You hated looking in the mirror and seeing the same miserable face every day. You hated being the friend that was the least fun and being stuck inside with this hurt consuming you. It made it harder to breathe, it made your heart stop in your chest, and yet you never physically died. Inside, you were long gone, but you ignored it because no one seemed to care. 
You tried drugs and alcohol, but that wasn’t enough to kill your pain, and you never fully managed to end it all. Your existence became a nuisance. 
You never believed in God. The constant self-pity, shame, guilt, and blame became your best friends. In your mind, you fucked up your own life. Your mind was fucked up, so you were automatically at fault. You ended up being in so much blood-boiling pain, you tried to find a way to inflict pain in other ways to distract you from the numbness that burned your insides like acid would burn the cells of your skin in an instant, and the toxic waste ended up in your bloodstream, then your mind and in the end, it poisoned your heart and your soul. 
You truly believed you were rotten inside, and there was nothing that seemed to help.
You turned to cutting, the blood running from your wrists a testament to your pain, and it made breathing so much easier for just a moment. The razor blades were the brush with which you painted the tiles of your bathroom floor red almost every night. You weren’t proud of it, but you had no one to listen, no one to help you and you just felt so fucking numb– You had to find something to relieve you of this pain for a simple moment, and a moment was all it took to get you hooked on the feeling. It was a different kind of pain, and your wrists looked mutilated, even long after you were done, but whenever you brushed over the scars, you felt the need to do it again, and so you did. 
One summer night, you found your way to one of the rooftops in Hell’s Kitchen. You didn’t want to jump, but having the choice to do so filled your body with a certain sense of relief. If you had jumped, you would have died. You could have broken your neck and ended it all. You would have died on your way down already, probably, or maybe you would have passed out. 
The world seemed so small from up there, but you were still alone. 
That night, you felt his presence for the first time. He wore a black mask; you had seen him on the news a while back, but word on the streets had it that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen disappeared. After Wilson Fisk got imprisoned, he must have found his way back. 
“I don’t want to jump,” you assured him. “I just want to feel.” It wasn’t a lie. Your heart beat slow and steady in your chest and against your ribcage. The wind in your hair cooled the sheen of sweat from the early summer heat. 
He didn’t talk, he simply stood by your side. You were too tired to ask him why. When you sat down, he followed shoulder to shoulder, together. Your tears had dried on your cheeks and you watched the clouds pass by, hide and reveal new stars, and you pointed out the constellations in your head. He wouldn’t let you fall, it seemed, and so you simply stayed there. It was the first time someone seemed to care without trying to fix you. 
You were okay.
He walked you home before sunrise and asked you again, “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes,” you answered. In the moment, you usually were. 
You smiled and thanked him, and he told you, “If you ever need to talk, well… you know I’ll find you if you call for me.”
One day, after finding you on the roof again (at this point, you weren’t sure why you were doing it anymore), it started to rain. He offered to walk you home and asked you if you were okay again. You offered him to stay. 
“Who hurt you?” he asked you once you bid him inside. 
You brewed some tea, offering him a mug. He took it. You shrugged as an answer to his question. The numbness settled back in. You had no tears left to shed. Did he care? You weren’t sure. People often liked to ask for no reason whatsoever, and you knew if you told them, they would have called you crazy. 
“I hurt myself,” you said. 
He caught your wrist when you tried to walk away. His fingers dug into the fresh scars without trying to, but it hurt and it functioned as a cruel reminder of what your arms looked like. Of what you did. Instead of numbness, what you felt was guilt, and when his mouth contorted, you knew he realized something wasn’t right. 
You were so stupid, you thought and pulled away from him. How could anyone ever care or love a broken mess of nothingness like you? You weren’t worthy of anyone’s affection. This – the scars on your wrists and the hole in your chest – was what you deserved. 
He didn’t run though. The stranger tilted his head as if to understand you.
“Why?” he asked. 
It made you think. Why, exactly, were you doing this? 
“Because I need to feel something other than this pain that is numbing me,” you admitted. 
You were so honest with him that night, and it seemed to surprise him, but he also listened to every last word coming out of your mouth. 
He let go of your wrist then and said, “Have you ever asked someone for help?” 
“Why would I?” you asked. 
“Because there are people who can help when you’re hurting.” 
Fixing you, that was what he meant. There were people who could fix you, but you didn’t want to be fixed. You couldn’t be fixed. Everyone always tried to fix you and you were so sick and tired of being the one everyone deemed broken all the time. 
“Perhaps you should go,” you said and opened the door for him. You had to end it there. 
One night, you cut too deep, and the world caved in on you. You had no choice but to endure it, but you broke under the weight like a fragile vase. You cut too deep, and the blood mingled on the floor with your tears. It hurt – the cuts weren’t the worst part because they only thudded numbly in sync with your pulse; the worst part was the bomb in your chest exploding and sending all these feelings hurdling around. 
God, you hated yourself. 
You always kept your windows unlocked. What you didn’t expect was for him to climb through your window. Only when he kicked the door down did you look up, your face stained with tears. He tilted his head, seemingly smelling the air, before he knelt beside you and wrapped towels around your bleeding wrists. The essence of your heart was on the floor now, the vase broken, and he cleaned it up without hesitation. 
You didn’t deserve such gentle treatment. 
You sobbed into his strong arms until there was nothing left to give. Instead of leaving though, he stayed. He took you to bed and bandaged your wrists, still keeping the black mask right where it was. It was you curious, and you hadn’t felt curious in quite a while. 
He stopped the bleeding without problems, and then he lay beside you as you regained some sense of self. 
“Why do you keep doing it?” he asked eventually. His finger ran over the bandage he had applied earlier. “Why do you keep hurting yourself?”
You shivered. “It wouldn’t make sense even if I told you,” you said. 
Because even to you, it didn’t make sense.
“Try me.”
“No, you wouldn’t understand. You barely even know me and I don’t know you. Why do you keep doing this, D?”
“Matthew,” he told her. “That is my name.”
It was the first display of trust he showed you, and you were a little taken aback. 
Your lips parted and you whispered your name into the darkness. He smiled softly, taking your weak hand into his.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. 
You stared at him for a while before asking something that almost came naturally. “Can you stay?” your voice was barely above a whisper. 
He battled with himself before giving in, agreeing to stay, and you felt something in your heart turn around. A candle was lit. Was that the scent of hope you could smell? You weren’t sure, but the fact he held your hand as you tried to find your way into a restless sleep and never once waivered with his support filled you with a sense of safety, and finally, for once in your life, the voices went quiet. You focused on his heartbeat and breathing, and you finally felt less alone. 
The next morning, your window was closed again and he was gone, probably disappearing in the middle of the night. You found a note on the dining table, poorly scribbled, but you could decipher what he wrote. 
It’s because I care about you, Angel.
He cared. About you. You broke down crying, not used to this much affection, but it was also then you realized that it was what you desperately needed. 
You looked at your bandaged wrist, then your reflection in the metallic shimmer of your fridge, and you made a decision you should have made from the beginning. 
You waited on the rooftop again that night, this time the one of your apartment complex. He appeared not long after you whispered his name into the humid night air. Cars passed by and the city grew louder by the minute, but he still came. 
He wore his mask again. 
“Will I ever see your face?” you wondered aloud.
He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a good idea.”
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knowingly never did home visits. 
“Can you see mine?” you asked. 
“No,” he said. “I can’t see yours.”
Your breath shuddered. 
“What’s wrong?”
“You changed something in me last night.”
Matthew seemed to pipe up at your admission, and he took a step closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked.
“Yes,” you breathed. 
“What did I change?”
“You saved my life.”
“I only came because you needed someone.”
You asked, “Is that why you always come to these rooftops?” 
He shrugged. “You call, I come,” Matthew said. “That’s all there is to it.”
But it wasn’t all. 
With a weak sniffle, you closed the distance between you and fell into his arms. He caught you, holding you close to him. His heart thudded in your ear like the night before, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. Years of pain, sadness, and anger fell off your shoulders, leaving you even more broken than before, but for the first time, you felt it all. And you knew you couldn’t live like this any longer. 
“I need–” you choked on a sob. It burned in your lungs. 
His grip tightened. “What do you need, Angel?”
“I need help,” it was the first time you said it, but the moment the words left your mouth, Matthew vowed to stay by your side. 
That night, he took his mask off for the first time after taking you home. You saw his face, and you felt a sense of relief. He was beautiful, inside and out, but he was also incredibly human. His blind eyes were unfocused, but you only touched his cheek with tender fingers. You owed him your life, and you made sure to show him that. 
“Matt Murdock,” he introduced himself. 
You gave him the courtesy of doing the same. 
He smiled, and you saw something in his eyes that would end up changing your entire life. 
Love. 
That cruel time of finding back to yourself after years of self-harm and depression is in the past, it has been for a while now.
The sun stands high in the sky above New York. A long time ago, summer filled you with dread. As you’re staring out through the windows of your home now, all you can think about is how beautiful the world is. The city stands tall in the distance, and you find yourself smiling into your cup of chamomile tea. 
The light reflects off the golden wedding band on your ring finger. Your name stands in Braille letters next to his with a heart of diamonds. It’s unique, special, just like your love story. 
When you first met him, you never thought you would end up here, but he woke you up from your coma and you found your way back to the light. He helped you, he supported you and he made sure you would always have someone to turn to. 
Years later now, you’re wearing his name and ring on your finger, and you have a home that truly feels like one because he is in it with you. He is your home, your haven, your sanctuary, and you owe him more than he will ever know. 
A pair of arms snakes around your waist and pull you back into a sturdy chest. You smile even more. “Hi,” you whisper. 
Matt presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hi,” he says. 
“The sun is out.”
“I know, I can feel it.”
“Right. Even after all these years, I still tend to forget I’m married to a superhero,” you say, albeit teasing, but your words also hold a mountain of truth. 
He chuckles. “You’re forgiven, Mrs. Murdock.”
“Oh, I’m glad.”
Matt’s hold on you tightens. Now that he has you, he refuses to let you go. “What were you thinking about just then?” he asks. 
You lick your lips, closing your eyes as your body melts into his almost naturally. “You and me,” you say, “and how far we’ve come.”
“Mhm.”
“And that I can’t wait to start a family with you one day and give our children the support I’ve never had.”
He tears up a little at that, you can hear it in his voice when he whispers, “I love you,” and he turns you around to capture your lips in a loving kiss. 
You realize it then for the millionth time since that night you first ran into the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen on the roof; Getting help was the best choice of your life, and no scar on his or your body matter now that you’ve got each other.
You belong in each other’s arms, today, tomorrow, and forever and always. Just like you said in your vows – there is nothing you can’t overcome, as long as you’re doing it together. 
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nekoannie-chan · 3 months
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Kind of war
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Title: Kind of war.
Ship: Steve Rogers X Avenger!Mutant!Reader.
Word count: 215 words.
Square: D2 “World War III.”
Rating: Teen.
Summary: You and Steve won't sign the Accords.
Major Tags: Fluff, angst, mention of war.
Additional tags: This is my entry to @cabottombingo Captain Bottom Bingo round 2. CABB2024.
Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.
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@saiyanprincessswanie
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.
I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 
If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard
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Steve couldn't stop reading the Accords document; if he signed, it would put Bucky in danger, but most of all, it would put you in danger.
“I'm not signing," Steve said as soon as you entered the room.
“Neither am I," you said.
“It's like we're screaming for World War III," Steve commented.
“It seems the world has forgotten all that we mutants have done to save them as well as used us in the wars."
“I remember meeting a few mutants." Steve put his hand to his forehead, feeling as if he was going to get a headache.
“Maybe this really will turn into World War III," you said.
“If so, I'll always be by your side," Steve assured, taking your hand.
“I'm scared, Steve. Let's go. I know a place where we'll be safe. We can take Bucky with us, Wanda, whoever is against the accords."
“Come on, you know I'll follow you to the end of the world."
You began to put their things away; you wouldn't tell anyone you didn't trust; the others could take it as they wished; though Ross had said it, if you didn't sign, you could consider yourselves withdrawn; but where you would go, that didn't matter; when the world needed you, then they would regret it.
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nightfury-2001 · 24 days
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Okay so. Self-indulgent HTTYD fanfic idea!!! (+ General stuff about main AU
Can't get this out of my head so I'm putting this out there even though I'm not sure I'll ever write a single chapter for this lol
To start off - I imagine this story would feature almost exclusively OCs and have basically nothing to do with canon characters until possibly waaaaay later into the story or like, a sequel if I got that far. It also would take place in my version of the HTTYD universe/my main AU, so certain major events happened differently or never happened at all, various minor details may be changed or ignored entirely, a couple of dragon species may be redesigned if they appear at all, etc..
Really what I'm trying to say is this fic wouldn't be something very many people would be interested in and I'm totally okay with that lol.
Anyway, with that out of the way let's get into what it would actually be about:
After what was supposed to be an easy job goes horribly wrong, a young dragon trapper has an experience that challenges her beliefs and causes her to question if she really wants to continue in her parent's footsteps.
(She stares at the beast. At first glance, it is so very different. But is it truly that different after all?)
As you probably guessed from that simple summary or whatever you'd call it, the fic would be about a young dragon trapper/hunter questioning what she's been taught all her life about dragons after one saves her, and the friendship that slowly forms between her and that dragon. (And yes I imagine the dragon is a Northern Night Fury* because this would be written by me, were you expecting anything different lmaoo)
I realize it could perhaps be a bit too similar to HTTYD 1.....what can I say, it's my favorite movie and I really love it and its themes - but really I do feel like the story/characters I'm imagining are different enough to not have it feel like a cheap knockoff.
But anyway! A couple of details and things I've come up with so far because I have more than just the main idea(s):
- The fic would begin a little after the events of HTTYD 2 - which I imagine HTTYD 2 happened mostly the same as in canon, but I'm seriously debating having Hiccup be the chief/stay the chief in my main AU. Not to go off on a bit of an unrelated tangent but honestly, I'm one of the people that thinks he's just not that well suited for the role. And like yeah, I get the whole parallel - Hiccup becomes the leader of the humans of Berk like how Toothless becomes the leader of the dragons of Berk - but I'm just saying even some of the people who worked on the film thought Astrid should be chief lol
- Anyway so I imagine the young dragon trapper's parents (and their parent's crew) are skilled and pretty well respected dragon trappers/hunters that worked for/supplied dragons to Drago in the past, but since his defeat they've been kinda struggling to find a new employer(s) and have had to travel to unfamiliar areas to find unprotected wild dragons.
- That's how the young dragon trapper ends up in the situation™. She's out helping a small group of older and more experienced trappers with what sounded like an easy job, but due to them getting a bit too cocky on an unfamiliar island they end up getting ambushed by a powerful and territorial dragon. It goes about as well as you would expect it would and our young dragon trapper is certain she's about to die just like the others until! The chonk swoops in and scares off the other dragon!
- Existential crisis time because she just got saved by a dragon.
Other things:
- By "young" I mean around 19-20 or so and not like, a literal child - I imagine the chonk is also around the same age lol
- Also in my AU, while some dragon species are more comparable to parrots/cetaceans/etc., most species could be considered sapient in a human sort of way even if they don't necessarily have literal human-level intelligence in all areas. There's even a couple of species, such as Furies, that I imagine have actual human-level intelligence - they just don't act like humans since they're giant reptiles/reptile-like creatures and don't process the world in the exact same way as humans do and have evolved to have different instincts, etc.
- Soooo because of that I think the idea of occasionally having a chapter from the POV of the chonk would be fun. Even if it's only a chapter or two I could explore the idea of why she decided to save the human (could be really interesting I think, especially if the chonk knew/understood she was a dragon trapper/hunter and chose to save her anyway).
This is really long and I've been working on this post for hours and um yeah. Enjoy I guess?
(*Northern Night Furies are a fan species made by me, basically they're big chonky seal inspired Furies that live in very cold environments. They're usually very friendly and curious creatures.)
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tj-dragonblade · 6 months
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*knock knock knock* ❄️☃️🎄 Asking for 24 for the Spotify Wrapped!!!
24 - Dance With the Dragon by Dark Sarah
Congratulations, you've landed on one of the songs that's officially on my list of Songs That Would Make Great Dreamling Fics (That I'll Never Write)! Based entirely on the video linked above and the story that it's part of, this would be a fantasy AU where the vibes are 'Labyrinth meets Alice in Wonderland' with hints of Phantom of the Opera, Beauty and the Beast, and Hades and Persephone sprinkled over for flavor.
The basic idea is that Hob is trapped in some alternate reality and trying to collect a key from each realm he passes through to be able to get back to his own reality. No idea at this juncture what the first realm/key would be - maybe something with the fae, maybe hell, idk. The second realm is Dream's. Do I want to keep to the source and make him a dragon who lost his wings for hubris and arrogance and got banished from the 'upper world' to rule this dark 'underworld'? Maybe, but that's also very Lucifer-ish. So maybe I'd blend in something closer to his canon. In any case. Hob tries to sneak into Dream's castle, get the key, sneak out. He does not succeed and is taken before Dream. There is antagonistic chemistry. There is sneering haughty-in-my-superiority taunting and 'let's be reasonable' demands. There is at least one challenge set, there is Hob as a 'guest' of Dream's until he completes the challenge ('So I'm a prisoner, then.' 'Oh no, you may leave any time you like, but you will gain no key until you complete my challenge.' 'But what good is leaving without the key, when I'll just be stuck here forever??' 'I fail to see how that is my problem'), there is continued verbal fencing and sparring and building UST as Hob struggles with the challenge, there is an elaborate ball (masquerade?) held, there is a waltz charged with so much tension and raging attraction it's a wonder the room doesn't spontaneously combust. There is at least one moment of 'Oh no under different circumstances this could be More™️' and genuine understanding/connection between them. In the end, Hob finally succeeds at the challenge, earns the key and departs on a note of uneasy flirtation - Dream bowing and kissing his hand in farewell as he acknowledges his defeat, lingering intense smirky eye-contact as Hob goes, that kind of thing.
Potentially this can go on, if I continue the thread of the source storyline but lean on Dream's canon for details. Perhaps collecting the three keys would give him the means to restore Orpheus/free Orpheus/something to do with Orpheus, and he's never had the means to collect the other two keys on his own, but now that Hob has collected the first and second, if Dream accompanies him while he collects the third, they can both use the keys to achieve their ends - Hob to go back to his own world and Dream to restore Orpheus. So Dream leaves Lucienne in charge of the realm and follows after Hob, catches up to him, proposes they cooperate etc; they quest for the third key and finally resolve that UST in the process. When they get the third key, and present it to let's say the Fates, they're told they cannot both claim reward - and they put the choice to Dream, his lover or his son. Let Hob go back to his world/his regular life, or be 'selfish' and choose to cash in for his own goal instead. It could end here with Dream choosing to let Hob go, which could be passing a test by the Fates and as reward for passing he still gets to save/restore Orpheus. Or, the longer and angstier version, he chooses Orpheus and thereby casts Hob into yet another alternate realm, and the next leg of the story is Dream's quest to find Hob again and seek his forgiveness, and find a way to get him home. Hob can't exactly fault Dream for choosing his son over this outsider human that he's started sleeping with, but it still hurts, still feels on some level like betrayal, and while he might like to freely offer forgiveness it's more plausible that there will have to be some earning done. Eventually of course they reconcile and find a way to get Hob home and then of course establish a means by which they can continue to cross worlds to see each other.
Anyway this is far more a mental exercise in mapping one story to another and seeing where they might translate than it is a viable fic idea; it's far too grand in scope and not nearly detailed enough for me to realistically take it on. Mostly I just want the enemies-to-lovers fraught-with-tension ballroom dancing scene.
Spotify Wrapped Askmeme Post
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