#sorry it took so long! i got two of this ask and wanted to differentiate them so i could answer them both | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nightlychaotic · 2 years

Text

Cuffed Together

Dick blinked as he watched someone slink into the museum. He paused, watching the windows, waiting for a light to flick on or the beam of a flashlight to cut across. Nothing.

He frowned, quickly cutting across the street and ducking in, pausing for a moment to study the large pane of glass missing from the door. No sign of it being shattered, just some ash on the ground.

He took note, continuing forward until he found the figure searching through cases towards the back. He could barely make them out in the dark, going more off the slight clink of the glass cases and shifting of darkness.

"Can I help you?" he asked, flicking the light on as he leaned against the door frame.

He stared at the woman in front of him as she whipped around, her long braid continuing to move, wrapping itself around her body. He might have mistaken her for Catwoman from a distance were it not for the braid and toxic green accents on her catsuit. The low slung belt and leather ears perched in her hair, further differentiated the two.

"I could ask the same of you. Museum's closed to the public. Might want to get a move on before something unlucky happens."

"I think I'll take my chances."

"Suit yoursel-" she cut herself off as several things happened.

The ears on top of her head twitched as Dick caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows behind her. The lights abruptly shut off, a hand wrapped around his wrist, sharp claws digging in as the alarm went off deeper in the museum. Dick gave a small nod to the shadows as she glanced behind, seemingly satisfied that the sudden arrival was moving to investigate.

Dick took advantage of her slight distraction, clicking handcuffs around their wrists. She turned around hissing slightly.

"Do you make it a habit to handcuff yourself to strange women?"

"Only when they're breaking the law."

"Funny, I didn't take you for the police type at first," she murmured as she swung him around, pulling him in as if she were going to dip him. She was stronger than she looked Dick noted as she held him close, bringing her other hand to rest against his throat, the sharp claws pricking at his skin.

"Don't move," she said softly. "I'd hate to have to slice your pretty neck open."

"Aw. You think I'm pretty."

She didn't answer as she moved back, pulling him with her. The rush of cold air was the only warning he got that they were heading out the back door.

"Hold on tight, Pretty Boy," she warned before he felt her hand leave his throat a moment before their feet left the ground.

She was on the move as soon as their feet hit the roof, pulling him along for a few feet before they went airborne once more, her staff carrying them over several roofs before landing. Repeating this a few times before coming to a stop.

"Care to take these handcuffs off of us?"

"No, I think I'll keep them on. Thanks."

She let out a sharp breath. "It's been a long day. I'm sure we both have other things we'd rather be doing tonight, that is unless you'd like to spend the night with me."

"I don't tend to spend the night with people I don't know the name of."

"How rude of me. Lady Noire at your service…"

"Dick. Nice to meet you. Now, doesn't a clever thief such as yourself know how to pick locks? Surely you don't need me to unlock these."

"I hate to break it to you but my strengths lie elsewhere."

"So how'd you get into the museum then?"

"Sorry, a magician never reveals their secrets," she replied with a wink.

"So you're a magician."

"Nothing so simple. I am much more than a measly magician."

"Then prove it."

"I have nothing to prove to you."

Dick shrugged. “Then I suppose you’re a cheap magician.”

“A cheap- WHy- Hmmph- think what you will. I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Dick gave a soft chuckle as she glared at him. He raised a brow as she yawned, quickly turning away from him.

“Tired?”

“I have a life outside of this, you know. It catches up with you sometimes. Though I can’t imagine you know what that’s like.”

Dick plopped down on the ground, pulling her down with him, catching her off guard as she landed on top of him, her cheeks quickly turning red as she looked away. He grinned.

“Then let’s take a rest shall we? As it doesn’t look like we’re going anywhere as long as we have these cuffs on and you certainly don’t seem like you’re going to pick the lock anytime soon.”

Dick sat down pulling Lady Noire down with him. She huffed, shaking her head a little bit, the ears on top of her head twitching.

He lightly closed his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder with a small smirk. Laughing a little bit at the soft vibrations.

“Are you purring?”

“Shut up and sleep.”

Dick laughed, gently closing his eyes, not planning to sleep, but unconsciousness pulled him under regardless.

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

Dick woke up to the feeling of cold metal digging into his back.

"C'mon, Pigtails. You can't seriously be thinking about bringing him inside."

"I'm not thinking, I'm doing."

"Leave him on the roof. Even better, leave him on top of that ugly skyscraper. The rich guy's one. Wayne or whatever his name is."

"He'll freeze to death, Plagg. Besides, it's my fault he's here."

"And if he sees you? Or worse yet, one of us?"

"Then you'll get to say you told me so and revel in the chaos of that happening. Will you please unlock the window? It's been a long day, we didn't get the grimoire copy and I have three commissions to get through in the next three days. So please let me into my apartment so I can take care of Dick and get some work done."

"Wouldn't have to take care of handsome here if you left him on a roo-"

"NO PLAGG!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Pigtails."

She sighed as she slid the window open and slung Dick over her shoulder and into the warmth of the apartment. Setting him down gently and laying a blanket over him, he kept his eyes closed as he heard her walking away.

“All of you get going. We have a guest for a few hours. Nothing unusual please,” she hissed, closing a door, her footsteps coming back into the room he was in. The soft creak of a chair indicates her sitting.

Dick lay there for a few minutes before the sound of a loud crash in the room next to him. He startled sitting up, making eye contact with, presumably Lady Noire, though now lacking the green eyes and long hair. There’s no way she could have changed that fast, could she?

“Merde,” she cursed under her breath before fully turning to face him. “Morning Sleeping Beauty.”

“Where am I?”

“My apartment. Lady Noire dropped you off outside while you were asleep.”

“She did. Asked me to make sure you were taken care of and let on your way.”

“Well thank you…”

“Marinette,” she gave a small smile. “My name’s Marinette. And you are?”

“Dick. So how do you know Lady Noire?”

“I’ve patched her up on occasion. People with unusual nightlives aren’t strangers to my fire escape.”

Dick opened his mouth to ask another question as a second loud bang was heard in the next room.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Just a little chaotic, but I expect it will sort itself out. I’ll be right back,” she said before rushing into the other room.

Dick looked around at the small apartment, littered with fabric and sketches. A few pictures laid around here and there, was that an autographed concert picture of Jagged Stone? With her and a boy with blue tips and guitar playing with Jagged? She had connections.

He was pulled from his small exploration of the room as the wall in front of him crumbled into ash. Lady Noire- Marinette- froze anger blazing in her eyes as several small floating things hid. All except one.

The black floating bug-cat looking thing, turned away from her and grinned as it looked at him, it’s neon green eyes, the same unnatural color of Lady Noire’s, locked with his as he shrugged. “Oops. I told you it was a bad idea, Pigtails.”

“We both know you did this on purpose.”

“I can’t control it. Remember the dinosaurs? Atlantis? Just be glad it was a singular wall.”

She narrowed her eyes at it before letting out a frustrated breath. “We will be having a more in-depth discussion later.”

“So you can tell me thank you? I look forward to it. Don’t blow this pretty boy,” the thing told him before cackling as it hid, narrowly avoiding being snatched out of the air by Marinette as she turned bright red, looking at him.

“Sit. We need to talk.”

Dick took a seat on the couch as she sat on the chair facing opposite of him.

“So what have you gathered?” she asked him, arms crossed.

“You’re Lady Noire, a thief that keeps somehow managing to evade police and Bats alike. I’m assuming with some sort of magic ability based off those flying bug-creatures-”

“Kwamii.”

He blinked as she interrupted him with the term for the bug-creatures, before she gestured at him to go on.

“Based off of those kwamii, especially since one just destroyed your wall as easily as breathing and are powerful as it claimed to have something to do with the dinosaurs and Atlantis.”

She nodded as he said that. “That was Plagg. He represents Bad Luck and a being of destruction. He is the reason the dinosaurs are extinct and Atlantis now resides at the bottom of the ocean.”

Dick stared at her. Oh Bruce and Aquaman would have a field day with Plagg if they ever met him.

“That little thing caused all that.”

“That little thing is a god who’s been around since creation.”

“And you just live together.”

“I guard him and the rest.”

“The rest?”

“There are others. The specifics aren’t for you to know. But the reason I am a thief is the same reason I was a hero. I keep the Miraculi, the jewelry that tether the miniature gods to this realm and allow them to gift users with their powers from those who would abuse their powers and keep them from being used needlessly and protect them. Along with the texts that go with them. Every now and again I find a piece in someone’s home or a museum, so I reclaim them. Make sure everything is safe and tucked away and the balance secure.”

“So the museum had a Miraculi?”

“Miraculous. Singular. And no. A grimoire. Now, I hope you realize you can’t tell anyone about this and that if you do I will reign chaos down around you?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, leaning back in her chair. “Great. Any questions?”

“Just one. What did Plagg mean when he said ‘don’t blow this pretty boy’?” he asked. He couldn’t help the small grin as Marinette blushed, turning away, cursing the god under her breath with far more confidence than Dick ever could.

“Using a Miraculous connects you in a certain way to your kwamii,” was all she said, refusing to look at him.

He laughed slightly as it all clicked into place.

“Would you like to get coffee some time?”

“What?”

“Would you like to grab coffee some time? With me?”

She raised a brow. “I essentially kidnapped you and you’re asking me on a date?”

“You could have left me to freeze to death like Plagg originally wanted.”

“You heard that?”

“I did,'' he admitted. She shook her head before giving him a small smile.

“Might as well. I’d love to get coffee with you.”

Dick grinned, asking for a piece of paper and pen before scribbling his number down. “Let me know when or feel free to back out, no pressure.”

She laughed, tucking it away, as she led him to her door. “You’re taking this all in stride.”

“Believe me. Is not the weirdest or worst I’ve dealt with.”

She tilted her head as he said that, clearly curious. “Well we’ll clearly have some interesting discussions on our date. I’ll see you soon.”

She gave him a small wink as she closed the door, locking it behind him. Dick had barely taken two steps when he heard Plagg’s cackle and Marinette’s small outburst of ‘You Meddling Cat!’

“Thank you, Plagg,” he said under his breath with a smile as he left.

#maribat #dickinette #no beta this is war #mgicivilwar2022 #MGI Civil War 2022 #dick justice #nightwing nerds

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

Spoilers

Not sure if you write for Melina from Black Widow but if you do could you please write a Melina x Reader where they are both locked in the cells in the red room and confess to each other and kiss

Destined to Lose | m.v fic

Summary: Melina recalls the love that she once shared with a Red Room agent years ago.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting! Also, as the Red Room focuses on girls, the reader will be female.

Warning: Implications of some malnourishment.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

Ever since the Red Room had been stopped once and for all, there seemed to be the fragrance of calm in the air, washing over Mother Russia . . . or maybe it had just washed over Melina, Alexei, and Yelena, as everything had been shifted now. They were all free and had the opportunity to work on their shattered relationships - and to work on their shattered selves. Each one had coped in their own way, discovering and rediscovering their interests and who they were outside the Red Room, outside KGB.

One of the ways that Melina chose to heal was to take time for herself, and that included reading. More often than not, she’d be curled up in an armchair in the living room, entranced as her eyes swept over the ink printed on every page. The stories, whether they be fiction or non, always captivated her, and she soaked in every word.

That is the precise reason that despite being a highly trained and experienced spy, she didn’t notice that her youngest daughter was in the room until she piped up and spoke.

“Melina?”

Instantly the brunette was tugged from the faraway world she was in and her head snapped up, eyes holding a gaze of alarm for just a moment before they stilled. Melina took in Yelena’s state. The younger woman was standing confidently but her face told a different story. She was concentrating on something, Melina could tell from the way that her muscles were pulled, and there was an inner dialogue going on, troubling her.

“Yes, dear?” Melina said, carefully turning over the corner of the page and closing the book on her lap, as she could tell that this conversation wouldn’t be over in a minute.

“I had a question,” Yelena began, pausing for a moment and then sitting in the armchair across from her mother. She continued when she was comfortable. “-which you don’t have to answer.” She reeled in her worried gaze and made it more neutral.

Melina allowed her shoulders to slump into a relaxed posture and drew her bushy eyebrows together, her chin jutting down ever so slightly. “What is it?” She asked, the curiosity gnawing at her, since this wasn’t Yelena’s typical behavior.

Yelena seemed to be collecting her thoughts and, when she was finished, spoke in a delicate manner. “When I was looking at the Red Room’s files that Natasha got, I . . . I came across yours. It had said that you had been through the Red Room five times and . . . It mentioned someone named Y/N Y/L/N? I was wondering-” she cut herself off abruptly when she saw the solemn and serious look on her mother’s face.

The moment she heard that name, it struck something inside Melina. The memory, the feelings, it all came hurtling back with a force that had been absent for years. Y/N.

Y/N was the name that caused her stomach to twist and turn as the wound was ripped open. Y/N was the name that put a smile on her lips through the tears and reminded her how far she came when she was sad. Y/N was the name she thought of as a battle cry when she jumped into a fight against those Red Room agents. Y/N was the name she focussed on, like one would stare at a point on the wall to keep focus, as she got through the hardest times in her life, motivated her to push through with all her might.

With all those thoughts running through Melina’s head, she finally looked up, met Yelena’s gaze with her own, and parted her lips to tell her a story.

Melina had long since given up keeping track of the days at this point. There was no use, for by this time the days had all blurred into one. She could only differentiate the day and the night because every night is when someone with a deep frown on their face would walk in and give her a tray of food, and every morning was when someone else would arrive and take said tray away. She had barely moved from the position she sat in: back against the chain wall that seperated her cell and the one right next to hers and her knees drawn to her chest. She’d tune in to any sound she could hear and fixate.

She had been thrown into this cell because of her attempt to escape the Red Room. It wouldn’t be the first time she tried to escape, nor would it be the first time she sat in this cell, but it was the first time that she had gotten as far as she did, since she had help.

Melina could only wonder why she was here and Y/N wasn’t, and those wonderings always ended up with her conjuring thoughts and ideas that frightened her.

She ended up having the endless questions crawling at the back of her mind come to a halt when she heard pounding footsteps one day. Despite being in a tired haze, Melina snapped right out of it and became alert, watching and waiting with anticipation as their footsteps got closer, and closer, and closer.

The person - or people - belonging to those footsteps came into sight and Melina couldn’t stop the gasp before it escaped her lips when she saw what was happening.

A man, a Red Room agent, was practically dragging Y/N who was thrashing about, doing her best to put up a fight, but ultimately losing it when he carelessly tossed her into the cell next to Melina’s, locked the door, and walked away.

Only after his receding footsteps could be heard no more did Y/N look up from her tears, only for her eyes to widen and for her to lurch towards the chain wall, fingers grasping around it, when she laid eyes on Melina. Melina did the same and, after a little struggle, they managed to hold hands in a steel grip through the chain.

“Mel,” Y/N breathed, but her hoarse voice caused her to cough.

“Y/N,” Melina whispered, tightening her grip and scooting as close to the chain wall - as close to Y/N - as she could. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, alarming Melina, and rested her forehead against the chain. “I wasn’t thrown into the cell immediately because you’ve been through the Red Room five times now, but I haven’t. They wanted to train me more and they did their best, but when I kept on fighting them they decided to put me in here.” she answered tiredly.

Melina thought this over and let out a sigh of her own, but this was a sigh of relief. She was glad that she no longer had to worry about Y/N and thankful that Y/N was with her so she could make sure that nothing bad would happen to her.

After a couple moments of the silence beginning to creep in again, Melina decided that she needed to tell Y/N something. “I have to tell you something, love.”

Y/N looked up, a beautiful glint in her eyes telling that she was intrigued. God, Melina had missed seeing that look on her face.

“Don’t feel pressured to respond, just, after I’ve been away from you, I really, really have to say this: I . . . I love you,” Melina confessed, bravely meeting Y/N’s gaze.

Y/N blinked, but that glint did not go away. In fact, it seemed to get bigger, making the smile on her lips reach her eyes, and she squeezed Melina’s hands as best she could.

“I love you, too.”

Those four words were probably the softest words she had ever spoken, but they were beyond true.

Melina leaned forward and Y/N after a moment did too. They did their best and managed to meet each other with a kiss. The two cherished it - the kiss was sweet and simple and not over-the-top. Perfect. They each leaned back.

Then, the silence came again, but this time, to Melina, it was more comfortable.

“I have something to tell you, also”

Melina looked up, expecting the smile to still be on Y/N’s face, but it was faltering. She tilted her head to the side.

“I insisted to them that you not be put through the Red Room a sixth time. I’m not sure if they’re going to do anything, but I wanted to stop what they were doing to you and-”

“That you did. They’ve listened.”

Both looked up to see a Red Room agent standing outside Melina’s cell. He unlocked it and she instantly scurried back, but couldn’t do anything to prevent him from grabbing her and yanking her up. “Y/N!” She yelled as she was half-dragged, half-carried away.

Y/N sat up, banging on the chain. Tears started streaming down her face. It was happening far too fast. “MELINA!” She yelled. “I’M SORRY!”

There was fear in her voice. Oh, god, what had she done?

Melina paused for a moment, eyes focussed on Y/N as they went down the hall. She then said calmly, but with a firmness, “Don’t be!”

“And that was the last time I saw her,” Melina concluded her story, not meeting Yelena’s eyes, but with tears threatening to spill.

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st0nesnglitter · 2 years

Note

I want to say that I love your writing and currently I’m obsessed with this one:

“Hi love, could I request wolfstar fucking a younger reader at Grimmauld Place. Do with it what you’d like, not matter what you write it’ll be great”

and I wanted to ask if I could request a part 2 or a separate fic where Sirius gets jealous and mad when Remus constantly calls him “dumb puppy” instead of pretty and it’s kinda hurt/confort

Aw cute!!

I’m not feeling too well so this isn’t gonna be super long but this was too cute to pass,,

fuck this is so short im sorry

Includes: mlm, softdom!remus, wolfstar x reader, Sirius being upset and a little mean, shit ending :)

Sirius Black is a man driven by emotions. And it’s an undeniable fact that these emotions usually fall on the dramatic side, so when his pride is hurt you know you have a big storm coming. And a huffing, quiet Sirius who stared you down but never met your eyes was dangerous.

“Hey what’s wrong darling?” Remus’ hand found its way onto Sirius’ waist, pecking his cheek lightly after the umpteenth grunt and sigh.

“Why do you care? M’ just a dumb puppy” his voice got into a mocking tone at the nickname, his lips coming out in a pout.

The last few times the three of you had engaged in proper, drawn out sex Remus had adopted a tendency to differentiate from his two puppies. It just happened that he’d label Sirius as the ‘dumb’ one.

Not in a malicious attempt to humiliate him nor because he actually saw him inferior in the academics department; Sirius just had a special sheen in his eyes when he got down on his knees that signify he was truly dumbed down by cock.

It had also become a habit outside of the bedroom, from Remus’ perspective it had been in an endearing tone and with a sparkle in his eye, but now he realized that it had come out more hurtful.

“Aw Siri, you hurt by that?”

“Don’t fucking ‘aw’ me, prick” he mumbled and pushed Remus’ hands off of his waist with a huff, stomping away down the hall.

Realization hit the werewolf that his boyfriend actually was hurt by his constant nickname, especially in contrast to your much more positive one.

“Hey Sirius!” Remus called out, making the shorter man stop in his tracks, another sigh escaping his lips.

“What? You wanna call me stupid some more?” Siris eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into Remus’ hazel eyes, “Why don’t you go and talk to your perfect, pretty puppy? They’re reading on your bed”.

His face got redder as he spoke, his lack of emotional guidance showing through the way he handled himself, throwing hurtful words at his partner.

“They’re so fucking smart, reading outside of school! Wow! A dummy like me could never” Sirius exclaimed.

In his flare of rage he had inched closer to Remus, hands gesturing as he spoke.

“Why would you even wanna be with me? Just a dumb fucking puppy!”

The lycanthrope had been around long enough to know that he needs to express himself before intersecting. But after a beat of silence and a couple of angry breaths from Siri it seemed like he got all the anger out.

“Hey, I’m sorry” Remus started, carefully, “I never meant it as an insult, I hope you know I think you’re brilliant”.

The slight wrinkle between Siris eyebrow became a little lighter and Remus saw that as his cue to keep going, pushing back a dark lock from the watery steel eyes.

“I think you’re the most gorgeous man on earth, you were the only thing that could distract me in potions class!”

Sirius’ lips quirked up and his face took on a different kind of flush than before.

“And you’re absolutely brilliant, a genius” Remus nudged Sirius’ hip with a faint smile, ”You were the whole mastermind behind our pranks, you never paid attention in class but still aced through every single one of them and no one can outrun your fast, devilish mouth”.

“Yeah but you sure have tried Moons” the raven-haired male piped up for the first time since his little explosion and wiggled his eyebrows a little.

“You see what I mean? My handsome, intelligent, amazing, funny boyfriend” Remus bent down and kissed his partner a couple of times over the forehead, cheek and nose.

“Now, can I make it up to you with some snacks and cuddles in bed?”

#marauders x you #marauders fluff #sirius black #sirius black hurt #sirius black blurb #sirius black x remus lupin #remus lupin x sirius black #wolfstar blurb #wolfstar #wolfstar imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

Control

JJ x John B

Masterlist

Summary: JJ likes losing control, and there is no one safer he can do that with than his boyfriend, John B. But after a particularly awful week, JJ just needs something he can be in control of.

Category: Smut, angst

Warnings: Cussing/slurs, JJ’s home life so abuse and violence, allusion to sexual abuse, rough sex, choking, safe word used. Look, this gets dark, so this is your warning.

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: I agree with a lot of other people that in their relationship, John B is usually the dominant one because JJ likes losing control, but I’m convinced that after a really fucking bad week, he just loses it and needs something he can control. This is what I imagine that would look like.

•••

It had been a bad week. It felt never ending, getting roughed up by the Kooks, running from the cops, taking the fall for Pope, and now this.

If you keep going down this road, you’re going to end up just like your dad.

Maybe his best friend, and within the last year or so his boyfriend, was right. Maybe he, and everyone else on the island who constantly reminded him of his blood, was right. Maybe he was destined to be a complete fuck up with no future other than three cement walls and a grid of bars. Not like JJ’d ever imagined his life going any differently.

We’re sick of your shit.

Those were the words echoing in his head as his feet made the decision before his mind did.

You are a worthless piece of shit.

He remembered something Pope had told him once, that the brain can’t differentiate between the truth and something that has been repeated to you over and over.

You’ll be back here one day. You good for nothing piece of shit, that’s why your mamma left. Stay down, boy. I don’t care where you’ve been. Really living up to your name, Maybank. You’re just like your daddy. Fucking bastard. Worthless.

Must be true, right? If everyone is saying it, including the only people he’s ever really thought cared about him, it must be true.

As he opened the door to the run down shack, he already knew what he’d see, but a shutter of fear still raced down his spine. His dad was sitting on the couch, all kinds of beer and pill bottles scattered around him.

“What the hell you doing back here, boy?” the gruff voice of JJ’s nightmares asked.

“Dad, I-”

“The least your worthless ass could do is get me a beer.”

JJ complied, because, what else was he going to do? Weak.

As he walked over to his dad, the smell of beer was overwhelming. It always was, but the smell seemed stronger than he remembered. His dad's tolerance must be higher than it was a few weeks ago.

“Open it,” Luke demanded.

JJ tried, he really did, but his hands were shaking too damn much. Come on, don’t be such a pussy.

Apparently he couldn’t do it fast enough, so Luke ripped the bottle out of his hands, causing it to shatter on the floor. JJ flinched at the sound.

“What are you, retarded? Can’t even open one goddamned bottle!”

JJ didn’t even try to duck. He felt Luke’s knuckle make contact with his cheekbone, head whipping to the side. We’re sick of your shit, JJ.

“Dad-”

“Don’t fucking beg you weak, worthless piece of shit!”

Flames enveloped his gut, followed by another fire lit over his ribs. We don’t want you around.

The voice he was hearing sounded an awful lot like John B’s.

“Fucking pathetic! Just like your mother!” JJ was on the floor now, not completely able to remember how he got there. As his body screamed in pain with each new kick, his mind was getting farther and farther away from where he was.

Our lives would be better without you in it. I would be so much happier if I had a boyfriend who wasn’t such a burden, such a fuck up. Someone without so many fucking issues.

He could feel the blood dripping down his face and leg, but refused to make himself consciously aware of it.

This is what you deserve, JJ.

This is what you deserve.

•••

Twenty-eight hours. That’s how long it’d been since John B last saw JJ. The moment he walked out the door John B kicked himself for it.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually said that to JJ. ‘You’re going to end up just like your dad.’ He couldn’t think of a worse thing to say to JJ.

It’d overall been a shit week, and John B knew that he was sleep deprived and irritable from everything that’d gone on, not like that was any excuse for what he’d done.

As time ticked by, John B just kept going over everything he’d done wrong in the past week.

You’re going to end up just like your dad. We’re sick of your shit.

Not to mention the time he grabbed JJ by the collar of his shirt and shoved him up against the wall. The way JJ flinched and seemed to shrink into himself, immediately casting his eyes down, was an image John B couldn’t get out of his head. He knew better than to touch JJ without explicitly asking or giving him plenty of forewarning, let alone grab him out of nowhere while he was angry.

God, JJ looked so scared in that moment, and John B couldn’t even believe he’d just made the person he cared about most in the world feel threatened by him. And JJ didn’t even look like he’d fight back. He looked like he was bracing himself, ready to take whatever harm was to come to him.

JJ put so much trust in John B, letting him be in control of their most intimate time together. JJ once told him that he felt the most safe when he was around John B, and he heard all of the words not said in that one sentence. I trust you. I trust you to have power over me, emotionally and physically. I trust you enough to be vulnerable, knowing that I won’t get hurt. Knowing that you won’t hurt me.

And John B felt like within the span of a week, he’d destroyed all of that.

Just come home, just come home, just come home. Please, JJ, just come back to me.

The sun was starting to set, and John B was getting even more antsy. They’d never had a fight that kept JJ away for longer than a day or so, which meant that John B already knew where JJ was, even though he didn’t want to believe it.

Shit, shit, shit…

John B headed toward the door of the chateau, flinging it open on a mission to save JJ when he looked up.

Oh thank god.

JJ was standing on his porch, hand clutching his side and a couple butterfly bandages over his eyebrow and cheek. His shirt was torn, displaying the three developing bruises John B could see, meaning there were probably at least twice as many he couldn’t see.

John B’s mouth was hanging open, stopped dead in his tracks, unable to find the words to tell JJ how sorry he was and how much he wished he could’ve been better and how-

But his train of thought was cut off when JJ took two big strides towards him, smashing their lips together like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His hands were gripping onto John B’s sides, wadding up the cloth in his fists, and moved the pair of them back into the chateau, kicking the door shut with his foot.

JJ backed John B into the nearest wall, the intensity of the kiss momentarily distracting John B from the bigger situation at hand. JJ tugged John B’s shirt up, helping him out of it.

As they parted to remove the garment, John B tried to get JJ’s attention. “JJ-”

He didn’t let him get any more words out, though, pressing their lips back together the moment he could.

John B knew that JJ had a lot of pent up anger toward his father, toward the kooks, toward the world. He knew that JJ put on a show of being powerful, untouchable, even. JJ wanted others to think he was always in complete control, and while unhinged at times, a force to be reckoned with. JJ wanted others to think he was strong, and John B knew that was because of how frequently he was told he was weak.

John B thought JJ was as tough as they came. He was sure that if anyone else had been dealt the hand JJ had, they’d be doing a hell of a lot worse, and was impressed by his boyfriend on the daily.

But John B always thought JJ was the strongest when he was the most vulnerable, when he was with him, making this new dominant side of JJ concerning. JJ liked losing control and letting his guard down when he was with John B, letting John B take the lead. Right now, though, JJ was putting his walls back up, the tough act coming out. That’s how John B knew shit had really gotten bad, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for it.

John B tried again, “JJ.” He got the same reaction he did the first time, a non answer. John B delicately placed his hands on JJ’s shoulders, creating just a few inches of space between them as he finally got his attention. “JJ, JJ, slow down. I’ve been worried about you. What is going on, what hap-”

“John B,” JJ cut him off with a low, abnormally calm voice. John B stared in silence, growing even more concerned and confused by the look of intensity in his eyes. “Shut up.”

John B knew that at the end of the day, he’d do whatever JJ asked of him, but it didn’t stop him from trying to get more information. “JJ, I just-”

“Please,” JJ almost pleaded, gazing deep into his eyes. “Give me tonight.” John B stared at his boyfriend for a few more seconds before nodding his head. “Tell me if things get too-”

“I know,” John B assured, remembering the safe word they’d established early on in their relationship, South, and the one time JJ had to use it. He’d had a panic attack, mumbling something about a flashback, but John B had never gotten anything more than that.

With the green light, JJ slipped his tongue back into John B’s mouth, cool rings on his hand pressing into his neck, using his body to push John B back against the wall.

JJ was running his hands all over John B’s exposed chest, John B slowly moving his hands up to place on JJ’s waist. The moment he made the slightest contact though, JJ flinched away, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them to the wall.

His grip was unfaltering, and stronger than usual, and JJ held his wrists there as he started kissing down John B’s body, pausing to suck and graze his teeth over a few spots.

Reaching the waistband of John B’s shorts, JJ moved his grip from John B’s wrists in order to yank his shorts and underwear down. John B’s hands started to tingle, unaware until just then that JJ had been gripping so tight it started cutting off blood flow.

JJ, now on his knees, started pumping his hand slowly up and down John B’s half-hard shaft, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.

At one point, John B couldn’t stop the small jerk of his hips toward JJ, which was the wrong thing to do, as JJ’s crushing grip was back, both hands holding onto his hips and slamming them back into the wall. JJ resorted to using his mouth instead, lips wrapping around the tip and hollowing his cheeks. John B tossed his head back, harder than he intended, making a somewhat painful contact with the wall. JJ started bobbing his head up and down at a faster pace, only breaking contact once to wet two of his fingers which he circled around John B’s hole.

John B could see the contractions of JJ’s biceps, and almost felt his fingers shaking against him. He was confused at first about what it meant, but soon figured out that he was holding back. JJ had always been the dominant one in his flings with girls, but had never been in this position with John B before. He could tell that JJ wasn’t going as far as he wanted to, that he was restraining himself from taking what he wanted.

John B wanted to know everything that JJ had to give, and acknowledged, in almost a challenge-like way, “You’re holding back on me.”

Within a flash, JJ stood up, threading his fingers through John B’s hair to yank his head back, his other hand keeping it’s harsh grip on his hip. John B whimpered at the sensations.

Looking down on him, JJ demanded, “Is that not what you want?”

John B thought it wasn’t, but seeing him now, and knowing how much darkness he has, there was a fraction of a second where he wanted to change his mind. But the second passed and John B still wanted to see all of JJ, every dark and twisted corner, everything he hadn’t seen before. And he could tell that it was taking a lot of effort for JJ to restrain himself, too much effort. John B wanted him to let go.

He shook his head, voice coming out as only a small whisper, “It’s not what you want either.”

It was like flipping a switch. With force, JJ dragged him by his hair to the bedroom, and once inside, threw John B onto the mattress.

It felt a little unfair, John B completely exposed in front of JJ while he still had his shorts and shirt on. It was getting dark now, the sun having completely set over the water, leaving only the light of twilight to illuminate JJ’s face as he climbed over John B.

He quickly coated his fingers with the lube from the bedside table before shoving them into John B. With his other hand, JJ was tugging his own shorts down and reached for a condom. He had to remove his fingers from John B to put it on, causing John B to squirm in his absence.

Without any forewarning, and barely any time to adjust, JJ was pushing into John B, drawing a small whine from his kiss-swollen lips.

JJ set a bruising pace, leaving John B gasping for air. “JJ-” he choked out.

“Is this what you wanted?” JJ hissed, hand snaking up to wrap around John B’s throat. “You wanted to see just how fucked up I am?”

JJ’s grip was getting tighter, his pace faster, as he kept talking. “Well, Maybanks are only good for one thing, so you’re right. I will end up just like him some day. I already am like him. A fucked up monster.”

“J, no, that’s not-” John B started to say, as he reached a hand up to grab JJ’s wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” JJ yelled. John B removed his hand like he’d been burned. “Don’t you get it? I ruin everything I touch!”

John B’s face was starting to flush, his head getting fuzzy. He could only concentrate on the cool rings digging into his neck and the words JJ was saying, sounding farther and farther away.

“Have you ever experienced death before?” JJ whispered like a threat next to his ear. “Because I have. I can show you.”

“Jayj-” John B pleaded, using his last reserve of breath. “S..so-south.”

And just like that, JJ was off him, backing himself against a wall as far away from John B as possible. John B took a deep, shuddering breath and swallowed, closing his eyes until the fuzziness in his head subsided.

When he felt like he could think again, he sat up and looked around the room for JJ. He was crouched in a dark corner of the room, head in his hands, knees trying to block his face.

“JJ,” John B said with a scruffy voice, standing up to walk over to his boyfriend. He slid down the wall until he was seated next to JJ, sure to leave enough room for him to move without touching him. JJ curled into himself even more, leaning away from John B. “JJ, please look at me.”

JJ did as he asked, alluring blue eyes shimmering with tears, a dramatic difference from the dark, intense orbs of only a few seconds before.

“I’m okay,” John B assured.

JJ shook his head, eyes roaming over his hands, and hiccupped, “I hurt you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. I’m okay, I’m right here,” John B told him.

JJ’s eyes were panicked as he scanned over John B’s body. John B followed his gaze, evaluating the already forming marks on his hips and wrists. He was sure that JJ’d left a handprint on his neck, too, which was where JJ’s gaze lingered the longest. “No. I hurt you. I need to leave.”

JJ stood up, making a noise of discomfort as he did so, and hurried toward the door. John B was behind him in an instant and put his hand on the door. JJ stopped in his tracks, taking a step back from John B and looked back at the ground.

JJ was shutting down, John B knew that, and he knew that he had to reach him fast before he went completely under. “JJ,” John B whispered, “Can I… Can I touch you?”

JJ didn’t answer, but he didn’t back away or say no. John B slowly raised his arm, hovering his hand before JJ. “Is this going to be okay?”

JJ nodded, and before John B could fully process it, JJ was throwing himself into his arms, clinging to him like he never had before. He started sobbing, forehead pressed against his chest, and John B couldn’t hold back the tears that slipped down his own cheeks.

“How can anyone ever trust me if I can’t even be trusted around you?” JJ choked out. John B wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right, because he was speaking so quietly, but he thought he heard him ask ‘how can I trust myself?’

John B walked the two of them backwards toward the bed, sitting down as gently as possible. He attempted to pull away from JJ, but JJ held onto him. Tilting JJ’s head up, he pressed a kiss to his forehead, then promised, “I’ll be right back.”

John B walked over to put on a new pair of boxers before grabbing the first aid kit, and returned to where JJ was on the corner of the mattress. He lifted JJ’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

It hadn’t been this bad in a while. There were four purple, fist-sized bruises littering JJ’s torso, a yellowish one on the back of one of his shoulder blades, and a cut along the top of JJ’s shoulder down his tricep, not to mention the cuts he’d already bandaged himself over his eyebrow and cheek. John B coaxed JJ out of his shorts, which displayed something even worse.

There was a giant stack of gauze covered by a poor wrap job below JJ’s hip, reaching down the side of his thigh. “J… what… what happened?”

“He uh… he um… uh,” JJ trailed off, swiping at his nose. John B stayed silent, giving JJ time to put the words together in his head. “He called me… he said I was a dirty fag and that anyone who wanted to be with me was lying and using me because who would ever actually want to be around me? And then he made me…” JJ shuddered out a sigh and shook his head. “And then he tore his beer can in half and jammed it into my leg.”

“And you tried to bandage this up by yourself?” John B asked, concern dripping from every word. They both heard the real question, ‘You didn’t come to me?’

JJ shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought… I thought you might be getting tired of having to deal with this.” Having to deal with me.

“I will never get tired of being around you,” John B guaranteed. To emphasize his point, John B placed a kiss on JJ’s lips, then both his cheeks, his closed eyelids, down his neck. “I love you, JJ. There will never be a moment when that is not true.” Kissing across JJ’s cut shoulder and down his shoulder blade, John B felt him start to relax. He brushed his lips as delicately as he could over the bruises he found there, then traveled down his torso to do the same. “I love every inch of you. Every corner of your mind.”

“That’s the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard,” JJ said with a small laugh.

John B smiled, looking up at JJ through his eyelashes. “I know. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

JJ brought John B up to kiss him, a finger under his chin, pulling him as close as he could.

When they parted, JJ whispered, “I love you too.”

They stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at each other with small smiles for a while before John B said, “Let’s get you patched up.”

•••

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought, feedback is appreciated. :)

Find me on AO3 at the same username.

#jj outer banks #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagine #jj x john b #outer banks #jj maybank x john b #john b routledge #outer banks imagine #obx #jj obx #john b obx #obx imagine #jj maybank #john booker routledge #john b outer banks #smut #angst

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squidiosyncrasies · 1 year

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Top 5 favorite bugs

These are my favorites in the True Bugs group, Hemiptera. My top five for all insect orders is here.

Number One: Cicadas

I love their songs and the way they live underground. I love finding their shells. They're quite the summer treat to enjoy. Plus, they attract these huge wasps called Cicada Killers (21 species worldwide), which is a nice bonus for me (but not the cicadas, sadly) because I love wasps too

Number Two: Assassin Bugs

These bugs are amazing predators and watching them fight is a sight to see. They can even be great allies for plant growers to help reduce the numbers of pest insects around.

Do be careful, though, as their bites can hurt A Lot, and one group of assassin bugs, the kissing bugs, carries Chagas disease. However, one study interestingly found that the saliva of some other species may be antibacterial for some of our pathogenic bacteria, which I also find very cool. You should still avoid the bites though.

Number Three: Aphids

These insects have a really interesting life cycle. Many give live birth to pregnant offspring, which is very distinct for bugs. Also, they secrete a substance called honeydew (not to be confused with the melon), so there are instances of ants that actually farm aphids to get a steady supply of their honeydew. I am taking points off of them though for being agricultural pests.

Number Four: Water Striders

They walk on water! One genus of them is even the only known group of any insect to live in the open ocean!

Number Five: Treehoppers

They are just so shaped.

#thank you for the ask!#miss-n-the-lesbienne #sorry it took so long! i wanted to differentiate the two top 5 bugs asks i got so i could answer you both #and then i got caught up in a few long unpleasant weeks #but anyway i am here now!#bugs #hemiptera #all of these images are public domain #squiddle me this

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wolveria · 3 years

Text

Inside Your Wires - Ch 7

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: You try to smooth relations between you and Detective Anderson, made difficult when the human wants nothing to do with you.

AO3

Story banner by @uh-kitty-got-wet

You allowed the glass door to swing quietly shut behind you, smoothing your tie as you followed at a polite distance on the detective’s heels. The hunch of his shoulders was interpreted by your social module as a sign of discomfort and tension.

You were given several options on how to approach the human, even one suggesting taking several minutes before engaging him in conversation, but your mission prompt wouldn’t allow you to have that flexibility.

[EARN DET. ANDERSON’S TRUST]

Standing directly next to his desk, you appraised the human’s belongings, noting all of the items you had scanned upon your arrival. The human had an assortment of items, including an ancient mp3 player [Zune, manufactured 2008], a work cell phone, a bonsai tree [Japanese maple, dying], and several personal photos printed out and taped to his display board.

They were of different places and at different times, going by the various types of clothing, but they consisted of mostly the same subjects. Three men wearing nearly identical faces that only android software could differentiate between, and an older man catalogued as Captain Hank Anderson. He was marked as the adoptive father of the triplets.

Even though you had done it several times before, you scanned the detective’s features. His identifying information displayed on your HUD, further settling in your memory banks each time you did it.

DET. ANDERSON, CONNOR

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Detective

Criminal record: [Sealed Juvenile Records]

You blinked and the identifying information disappeared, leaving you to fully observe the detective where he sat, hunched over his terminal with a scowl on his face.

“I know the situation is not ideal,” you began in your most diplomatic tone, “but I look forward to working with a law enforcement officer of your caliber."

The human gave no indication he heard you, but his heart rate increased by a small percentage, and his fingers pressed down on his flat keyboard in a way that was counteractive to typing.

You were prompted with more dialogue options, and once again went with the friendliest approach.

“It seems we will be working together for some time, so perhaps it would be beneficial to get to know one another.”

The human remained reticent, glaring at the terminal screen as if it were angering him personally. The detective also narrowed his eyes, indicating an intense dislike, but remained silent on the state of his emotions.

Your gaze drifted down to the empty mug of coffee next to the withering bonsai tree.

[ESTABLISH RAPPORT WITH DET. ANDERSON]

“What are you doing?”

You tilted your head, freezing your motor functions when the question was asked, putting you in the position of half-bending over the detective’s desk. You had blocked his terminal with your body as you attempted to reach his coffee cup, and he now stared at you from inches away with a wide, startled expression.

“Sorry, Detective. I thought you might like a refill.”

You had received a helpful notification that caffeine withdrawal can result in headache and irritation, both of which you had identified in the detective’s tense expression.

“Okay, fine, could you just—“ He released a puff of air, fluttering the loose lock of hair that strategically fell to the side of your face. “—hurry up so you’re not in my goddamn lap?”

You weren’t in his lap, or even in the relative vicinity of his groin. It would have been more accurate to say you were closest to his face and hands, the latter of which had been rapidly retracted when the front of your chassis had brushed against them.

You also noted the rise in temperature of his skin, the pink hue across his cheeks, and the dilation of his pupils—all indications of arousal and attraction. These were common occurrences with your model design, and you dismissed the pop-up that asked if you wished to run the sexual subroutine. Such programs were low priority and only used as a last result if the detective were uncooperative with the investigation.

“Sorry, Detective,” you repeated, forming your lips into the approximation of a warm smile. “I’ll return shortly.”

You carefully picked up the mug and moved into a standing position, and the detective released a long exhale, avoiding meeting your eye as he turned back to his terminal.

Satisfied in your endeavor, you crossed the short distance to the station breakroom.

Two humans resided inside, leaning against an elevated circular table as they spoke. Both turned their heads to stare, and you took the opportunity to scan them.

CPL. LEE, HELEN

Born: 05/19/2005 // Police Corporal

Criminal record: None

LT. ANDERSON, COLIN

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Lieutenant

Criminal record: [Expunged Juvenile Records]

You blinked away the notifications and gave them a non-threatening smile before turning to the coffee machine. It was a large unit, meant for offices with frequent foot traffic, and a brief scan indicated it was overdue for a cleaning.

You weighed the negatives against the benefits of obtaining a beverage from this machine, and determined it was worth the possible contamination risk.

Placing the mug underneath the drip dispenser, you pushed the appropriate buttons after determining the detective’s preferred blend with a quick swipe of your fingers to the interior of the cup and placing them on your tongue.

There was a noise from behind, a slight huff of air and the soft pad of rubber soles against linoleum. One pair vacated the breakroom, and the other approached and stopped at your back.

“Connor done having his temper tantrum yet?”

You turned to face the lieutenant, examining his features and finding open curiosity. He stayed a polite distance away, unlike earlier, when he had stood so close that you had been forced to take a seat at the detective’s desk.

You wondered now if you should have tolerated the lieutenant’s close proximity, since occupying the detective’s chair had seemed to upset him.

“Must be bad if he’s already sent you to fetch his coffee,” he added with a nod to the mug sitting on the drainage tray. “Usually, he waits a day or two before terrorizing the rookies.”

“I volunteered,” you hurried to say, not wanting a ranking officer to get the wrong idea about the detective. “I believe it will be an appropriate icebreaker for our new partnership.”

“That so? Pretty sophisticated for an android, and terribly hopeful.” He canted his head to the side. “You got some kind of human instruction manual inside that processor of yours?”

The lieutenant dropped his gaze down your body, lingering in a way it had done many times before. The evidence of his attraction was even more obvious than the detective’s, but your sexual subroutines had never been activated by his interest before. You were assigned to Det. Anderson’s charge, and therefore, it would serve no purpose to offer your additional features to the lieutenant.

“In essence,” you answered, passive but friendly enough not to antagonize. “My human relations program assists in easing the interaction between CyberLife androids and humans.”

“I see.”

He moved closer, face neutral but his eyes highly observant. He reached out and took your tie, tugging it upwards. The tie clip stopped him from lifting it far, but the lieutenant seemed satisfied with letting the fabric run through his fingers.

“What else can your human relations program do?”

The tone of his question was easy enough to decipher, your program indicating the query was of a sexual nature.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Lieutenant,” you said. “Only Detective Anderson has access to my specialized subroutines.”

The fingers threading your tie went still. The open curiosity vanished from the lieutenant’s face, replaced by a calculating appraisal.

“Well, then. My brother’s a lucky guy.”

His lips pulled into a languid smile that didn’t match the tightness around his eyes.

You carefully pulled your tie from his lax fingers, once again giving him a non-threatening expression.

“The coffee’s done brewing. I must get back to the detective now.”

Turning back to the coffee machine, you kept a significant number of your processors focused on the sound of Lt. Anderson’s heartbeat and breathing, even sampling the micro sensors on your skin.

He remained at a close distance, though by the time you turned around with mug in hand, all you could see of him was his retreating back as he went around the corner down the hallway. From your downloaded schematics of the building, you knew the most likely route he was taking was either to the unisex bathrooms or the station gym.

Your statistical readouts stated the chance the lieutenant would try to engage in sexual activity with you at some point was at approximately 35.2%, and you tasked your processors with running the probability in the background. It was important that erratic human behavior didn’t interfere with your investigation.

“Have a nice chat with my brother?” the detective asked, tone flat as he stared at his monitor.

You filed away possible tension between the two siblings to observe further. You placed the mug next to his keyboard, this time on the side nearest you so you would not lean over and agitate the human again.

“It was informative,” you simply said, straightening into a standing position once more.

The detective gave a huff through his nose and muttered, “I’ll bet.” His eyes narrowed, and after seven seconds of glaring at his terminal, he locked on your face in irritation.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” you said, letting a friendly smile appear. “I would like to know where I can access the DPD’s database. I wish to review the case files.”

The skin around the human’s nose crinkled. He seemed to hold some kind of internal conflict before he sighed and indicated the desk connected with his own.

“Belonged to my last partner. You can use it. For now.” He emphasized the words, as if you had possibly forgotten the temporary nature of your partnership.

“Thank you,” you said with a small nod. The detective rolled his eyes and turned back to his terminal, seemingly already having forgotten you.

You knew he hadn’t. Every observant sensor of your body informed you of his continued wariness, even while his eyes were mostly focused on the glass screen in front of him, he was constantly tuned to your presence.

By the time you had sat down in the chair of the empty desk, you had already pulled up in the DPD database to discover what had become of the detective’s last partner.

Sheila Pernell, also a detective, had transferred to another precinct months earlier, citing the difficult nature of working with Anderson and his unpleasant personality. The language she had used had been colorful and extremely unprofessional.

You made another note in your background processes: Detective Connor Anderson displays hostility toward work partners and colleagues. Difficult to connect with others on an interpersonal level. Approach and adapt to antisocial tendencies as needed.

You turned toward the terminal and placed the fingers of your right hand on the keyboard, allowing your synthetic skin to pull make to interface with the device. Connecting to the network and pulling up the cases assigned to Det. Anderson, you downloaded all 243 into your memory bank.

Hoping to prompt a conversation with the detective, you turned toward him from your chair, slightly tilting your head as you analyzed his tense posture. It hadn’t relaxed at all within the past two minutes since your last interaction.

“There are two hundred and forty-three cases dating back to February of this year, many of them originating in Detroit. An AX400 abducted a young girl from her home last night. I thought that might be a good place to start. It’s flagged as the most urgent case due to it being a crime against a minor.”

Your social module had indicated bringing up the danger to a child would have prompted some kind of response, but the detective remained fixedly silent, leaning the side of his jaw against his propped knuckles.

A more drastic approach was needed. You stood, walked around the joined desk, and approached the detective as he made a noise and turned away.

Coming to a stop directly next to his chair, you adopted the understanding demeanor, hoping to placate the detective’s agitation.

“I understand this isn’t an ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps it would be best to set aside your personal issues, and—“

“Excuse me?” the detective snapped, glaring at you out of the side of his eye. “Were you just about to suggest how I do my job? Because if so, I advise you to shut the hell up. You’re not my boss, and you’re definitely not my partner, so perhaps it would be best if you fucked off and didn’t come back.”

He turned away again and picked up his tablet as he pretended you were no longer standing there.

You plucked the device out of his hand, ignored the surprised noise he made, and placed your other palm between his shoulder blades to establish a physical connection he couldn’t ignore.

“I’m investigating these cases whether you like it or not, Detective.” You leaned closer, speaking directly next to his ear so as not to be overheard. “If you continue to refuse to cooperate, then I’ll find someone else who will be more amenable to my presence.”

For the span of two seconds, the detective remained completely frozen. And then he abruptly stood, grabbed you by the jacket, and swung you around. Your back slammed against the glass partition with a solid thud.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he growled, inches from your face. “I don’t care how many Barbie dolls CyberLife sends to the station. If you keep mouthing off to me, I’ll shoot you myself and throw you in the dumpster. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” you calmly answered, which served to only agitate the detective further.

His brows creased as his hands tightened around the edges of your jacket. The human was stronger than his wiry frame gave him credit for as he managed to hold you between himself and the glass, your toes brushing the ground but unable to find purchase.

You remained silent, returning his glare with a bland, pleasant expression despite the discomfort traveling your circuits. If the detective was going to continue to be a problem, you would need to report his behavior, and that might further delay the investigation.

Trying to adapt to his psychology was proving fruitless, and it was clear you had underestimated just how socially challenged he was. Perhaps seeking a new partner was the right course of action after all.

Elijah had stated that if the detective became too much of an issue, his brother would be a suitable replacement. But when you thought of the lieutenant, the idea of working with the human was…

Unpleasant.

You studied the human’s face, searching those dark brown eyes, but found no acceptance there. You were going to have to work harder to—

“Detective, uh… sorry to bother you…”

At the sound of the timid voice, the detective released your jacket and allowed you to stand on firm ground. He didn’t turn to look at the officer standing behind him, however, and continued to level a glare at you, effectively penning you in so you couldn’t step around him.

“What is it, Ralph.”

“It’s about the AX400? The one who kidnapped the little girl? Someone just called in on the APB, said they saw it in the Ravendale district.” He paused, wide hazel eyes darting between you and the detective’s rigid back. “If you need me to bring this to the lieutenant—“

“I’ll handle it,” he said, the heated glare finally pulled off you when he turned and walked away.

Adjusting your jacket of its newly acquired wrinkles, you took a moment to process the detective’s unstable and problematic behavior, and quickly followed before the detective left the station without you.

Next Chapter

#human!connor x reader #connor x reader #connor x android!reader #human!connor x android!reader #reverse au #dbh #my writing #my fanfiction

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

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no grave can hold my body down – 2/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better.

Word Count: 9,000

A/N: I know there are a lot of contradicting opinions on Jason Todd’s height. But for my own wish fulfillment, he is 6′3/6′4ish in this fic.

Part 1

Y/N had fallen asleep after getting home from work. She had a long day and was so exhausted that she passed out as soon as she sat down on the couch. Jason had to take off her heels and drape a blanket over her.

Now he was dressed in his armored undershirt, cargo pants, leather jacket, and tactical boots. His red helmet was tucked under his arm, but he was already wearing a domino mask. If Bruce had taught him anything, it was to be prepared to a point of paranoia.

He crouched down to his knees.

Ever so gently, he brushed Y/N’s cheek.

“Y/N,” he whispered.

She stirred and winced a bit when she opened her eyes, the glare of the quiet television was suddenly harsh.

“What’s going on?” She asked, still half asleep.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep. I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving to go on patrol.”

“Mhmm. OK.” She hummed. “Be careful, J.”

If Y/N ever found out how un-careful the Red Hood was, she would never sleep and she’d probably beg Jason to quit his vigilantism.

“I love you,” he told her before kissing her on the forehead.

“Love you, too,” she said back so dreamily that it sounded like she was talking in her sleep.

Jason slipped out of the window. He purposely chose this apartment due to the direction the windows faced, the distance from approximate apartments, and the darkness that would prevent any wandering eyes from the neighbors.

He’d been patrolling for a few hours. It was oddly a quiet night. He assumed it had to do with how cold it was outside. Sometimes criminals were weak in the most obvious ways.

Jason was standing on a rooftop, taking a breather when he felt someone drop behind him. He knew his family all too well and could differentiate all of their footsteps. Which was why he didn’t immediately shoot Dick when he thought he’d try and surprise him.

“So, Y/N was quite the hit…” Dick said without giving Jason a proper greeting first.

“What are you still doing in town?” Jason answered.

Dick sighed. “B still needs a little help on the case.”

Jason nodded, not actually caring why Dick was still in Gotham.

Then an awkward silence washed over them. Well, Dick thought it was awkward. Jason couldn’t care less.

“Why won’t you talk about her with us?” Dick’s teasing was gone and his tone serious now.

Jason turned his head away from the city view and finally acknowledged his brother. “You don’t need to know anything about her,” his helmet distorted his words to make them sound even harsher than they already were.

“Doesn’t seem like she completely shares that view.”

Jason didn’t respond. He didn’t appreciate Dick speaking on Y/N’s behalf.

“Bruce seems to like her,” Dick added.

Jason’s head snapped to him. “As if I give a fuck,” he snapped.

Dick had the audacity to laugh. “How did the two of you meet anyway? She was living in New York City when the two of you first met, right?”

“Jesus,” Jason growled. “Did all of you run a background check on her?”

Dick shrugged. “What did you expect?”

————

Y/N didn’t have any idea where she was going. With the sun having already set, she couldn’t even figure out what direction she was headed.

But she had typed the address to her hotel into the Uber app and trusted it from there. She was also too preoccupied still answering the dozens of work emails on her phone.

“Hey lady, we’re here,” the driver said rudely after she didn’t realize they had stopped.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, writing the last few words of a sentence before pressing send.

She jumped out of the car and yelled a thanks before slamming the door shut.

To her surprise, the car raced off without a second’s hesitation.

But when Y/N turned around, she realized she was definitely not in the right place. And for the first time throughout the drive, she realized she was definitely in a bad area.

Y/N heard all of the terrible things about Gotham. Sometimes she wondered if the things about all of the crime were exaggerated by the news or if the city was really rotting from the inside like everyone said. What she definitely didn’t believe in was all the vigilantes that seemed to be protecting the city. No one could ever offer up any proof, even with every single human having a video camera in their hands at all times.

But now she wishing she’d taken people’s warnings a little bit more seriously.

This was definitely not Gotham Heights, where her nice hotel was located.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she whipped out her phone and instantly tried to call another Uber. But the app was being finicky and she was getting a loading screen for far too long.

Then she heard a group of men whistle at her. The streets were filled with literal dumpster fires. There were countless inoperable cars with broken windshields and without wheels. The only women she spotted looked like they were working the streets.

‘Walk, Y/N. Just walk. Act like you know where you’re going.’ Her brain was screaming at her.

So she did while remaining on high alert.

No matter how much she pretended to blend in, she was obviously out of place and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Her heart was racing and she tried to walk as fast as she could without fully running. She just hoped to get to a main street soon and try to catch a yellow cab, since apparently all her car-service apps decided not to work.

But suddenly, a man stepped onto the sidewalk, blocking Y/N’s path forward.

“You lost, sweetheart?” He cooed.

Y/N stopped and started backing away. But when she turned around, she saw that two men were waiting behind her.

“No need to be scared,” the same men said behind her, closer this time. “We just want to talk.”

‘Fuck this,’ Y/N thought before she decided to make a run for it.

But one of them grabbed her and shoved her to the side, pushing her into the alleyway she hadn’t realized they were right next to.

It was so dark that she could hardly make out the silhouettes of her attackers. But that wasn’t going to stop her from fighting. She immediately tried to shove past anyone in her vicinity and hit whoever was grabbing her.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She screamed, hoping that there was someone in this poisoned city that would try and help her.

Except she was outnumbered by three men, which ended in her getting shoved up the brick wall that lined the alley.

“I don’t have any money,” she gasped as a last ditch effort to save herself.

“Who said we wanted your money?” One of them chuckled darkly.

Before their words could hearten Y/N to try another defensive attack and escape, there was a strange zipping sound that echoed down into the alley.

Next thing Y/N knew, the man that was pressed up against her and pinning her to wall was flung off.

Y/N gasped and tried to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness enough so she could actually see what the hell was happening.

“It’s the hood!” One of the men yelled to his friends before making a run for it.

Then a gun was fired off – two shots.

Y/N yelped at the noise and covered her ears.

But when she looked back up, the man who had tried to escape was now on the ground, screaming in pain as he looked down at both of his knee caps that had been shot.

When Y/N turned her attention to the other two men, she finally saw who had interrupted their assault.

It was a man – if that was even what he was – dressed in military gear of some sort. But what really caught her attention was the red helmet that was reflecting the night light and allowing her to actually follow what was happening.

Y/N watched as he punched the daylights out of one of her attackers. She saw the man’s face get more and more covered with blood with each punch.

If Y/N was scared before, she was now terrified.

Without hesitating any longer, she too made a run for it, hoping she wouldn’t be shot like the other runaway.

She sprinted around the corner. But she only got a few yards before the same behemoth landed in front of her.

He was tall, and had to be at least 6’3. Men were confusingly short in New York, so Y/N was still trying to wrap her mind around having to tilt her head slightly up. But then she realized it wasn’t even his height that was jarring; it was how utterly hulking he was. His shoulders were so wide and his chest was massive. His thighs seemed to be the same width has her entire torso.

Everything about him was intimidating and imposing.

“I gotta give you credit for being that fast while wearing heels,” he said to her as he glanced down at her shoes.

It wasn’t exactly comforting that his voice seemed to also be distorted by the helmet.

Y/N was frozen in fear, truly not knowing what he was capable of or even what he wanted.

“You can relax. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he told her with his hands raised. His guns were no longer in his grip, but in their holsters at his thighs.

“You just killed three men,” Y/N told him with a shaky voice as she took a step back.

“I didn’t kill them. But if you want me to, I’d be happy to go back there and finish the job.”

“What? No!” Y/N cried out.

He had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction.

“Where exactly did you think you were going?” He asked her.

“This whole damsel-in-distress thing is new for me. But I thought it made sense to run away from the guy who was shooting people,” she told him quickly.

Jason was grateful that his mask hid all his emotions and facial expressions, because he was smiling at her sass.

He looked her up and down, taking in her outfit and just her overall look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave me away?”

He shrugged, ignoring the question. “What the hell are you doing in The Bowery? This is the most dangerous neighborhood in Gotham.”

“My Uber dropped me off here. I thought I was at my hotel and by the time I figured out I wasn’t, my driver had already sped away and left me for dead.”

He took a step toward her. “What’s a gal like you doing in Gotham?”

“I work for an art gallery in New York. But there was an event that I had to attend. I’ve been here all weekend.”

Why was she telling him any of this?

Jason nodded in understanding. “Come on,” he told her.

“W-What?” She asked nervously.

“You’re not gonna get a car in this area. You should report the driver who brought you here in the first place. He knew better.”

He walked past her.

Y/N looked around her, trying to figure out if she even had any other option. She knew he was right about a car, which was probably why she’d gotten a loading screen for all of them when it realized her location.

Yes, he was technically a masked criminal. But he did just save her life, no matter how terrifying it was to watch.

Y/N decided she didn’t have much of a choice.

Before she could move, a motorcycle was being pulled up alongside her.

Y/N eyed it for a moment.

“What’s your name?” She asked him, as if it would make the situation any safer.

“Red Hood,” he told her.

Y/N nodded, not surprised that it didn’t make her feel any better. She realized she was in no position to ask for his real identity. She knew enough about vigilantes to understand that they only survived from hiding their true selves from the criminals they fought and the law enforcement who thought what they were doing was wrong.

“Where are you staying?” He asked her.

“Crest Hill Hotel,” she told him.

“Fancy,” he teased. “Hop on.”

Y/N hesitated before following his instructions. She sat awkwardly on the back of the motorcycle, unsure of what to do.

“You’re gonna want to hold on, beautiful.” He told her over his shoulder as he revved the engine.

Y/N tried to ignore the heat that rushed to her face as he called her ‘beautiful,’ and then she tried to ignore how wide and strong his torso felt as she reached to hold on.

It took 20 minutes to get to her hotel, proving that the Uber driver really hadn’t given a crap about how incorrect her original address had been.

Jason had decided to drop her off in the back entrance to avoid a scene of the infamous Red Hood dropping off an average citizen. He didn’t need that type of attention and Y/N shouldn’t be tied to him in any way.

Y/N got off the motorcycle with a surprising grace and turned to him.

“Thank you for…saving me,” she told him gently.

“It was nothing,” he told her.

Y/N just watched him for a moment, wondering what he looked like under that red helmet and without all the armor.

“What’s your name?” He surprised her by asking.

“Y/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

She didn’t know why she felt comfortable giving her surname. But it just came out.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Though, I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Y/N suddenly dug into her purse, making sure she still had her phone and even just the key to her hotel room.

“Fuck,” she muttered without realizing it.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“Nothing. I just…it sounds stupid, but I have a little notebook to write down ideas for – well, for my artwork. But it must’ve fallen out back in that alleyway when those guys shoved me against the wall.”

When she looked up at him, it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

“Anyways, thank you again.” She turned to finally walk away.

“Y/N?”

She shouldn’t love how much she loved the sound of him saying her name.

Y/N turned around.

“Stay close to the hotel. Gotham is different than New York City.”

She nodded.

————————

“So, when did you see her again?” Dick questioned after he listened to Jason’s retelling.

“I was helping out a friend with a job in NYC. Things got ugly. I may or may not have been shot when I showed up at her window. Her apartment was in the area and I needed a place to lay low.”

Dick laughed. “Uh huh. Sure you did.”

Jason ignored him. “Anyways, I’d gone back to the alley that night and found that notebook she was talking about, and gave it to her to make up for bleeding all over her couch.”

“Always the romantic,” Dick teased.

Their conversation came to a halt. Instead of talking, they both listened to the city noises that Gotham brought.

“Listen, Jason, I know I did a poor job of being there for you and actually acting like a brother. And I also know you haven’t always been my biggest fan.”

Jason stayed quiet.

“But you deserve to be happy. And we both know Y/N does that.” Dick sighed. “But you don’t talk about her with us and you kept her from even just meeting us after years of you two dating. If we weren’t all noisy and paranoid, we wouldn’t know a thing about her.”

“What’s your point, Dick?” Jason asked roughly.

“No one ever wants to acknowledge this, especially you…but you’re more like Bruce than any of us. And you’ve seen how he pushes people away, keeping them at a distance. Y/N wants to be a part of your life, your whole life. And that includes all of us – whether you like it or not. So, what I’m saying is you don’t have to hide her from us.”

Dick knew not to expect a response from Jason. So he left him where he found him and gave him his space once again.

Jason didn’t have anything to say anyway.

Dick’s words made him angry more than anything. Because he knew they were true. Yes, he saw how Bruce behaved with women. It was promiscuous and casual, because anything else was too close for comfort. Bruce’s priority would always be Batman. And Bruce knew that no significant other deserved his lack of commitment – no matter how much they might love each other.

—————

Y/N was doing her nightly routine and applying moisturizer to her face when she heard it. She could be acting paranoid, but her instincts were telling her something was off.

No, someone was here.

Jason made a point of being loud and immediately announcing when he got home as to not scare her. So, it couldn’t be him.

As quietly as possible, Y/N tiptoed out of the bathroom and to her side of the bed where she kept a titanium baseball bat. Jason had offered her multiple times to teach her how to shoot a gun. But Y/N wanted nothing to do with them.

With the bat in hand, Y/N snuck her way to the living room where she heard the sound.

She had turned off all the lights, making it hard for her to see clearly.

But she did see a large mass standing in the middle of her living room. With just a bit of hesitation, Y/N swung the bat. But the intruder caught the bat, stopping her attack.

They stepped into the moonlight, finally allowing Y/N to see that it was Batman in his full uniform, cowl still on.

“What the fuck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Y/N snapped at him.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bruce defended.

But Y/N was still irritated. “Jason isn’t here.”

“I know. I came to talk to you.”

She froze. “Me?”

“I need a favor.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “I highly doubt I could do anything to help you.”

“You’re wrong. This has to do with your job. You work at The Drago House.”

Y/N tilted her head and crossed her arms. “Yes.”

“It’s owned by the Ibanescu family. They use it as a front for human trafficking.”

Y/N shook her head. “That can’t be possible…”

“Don’t underestimate the crime families of Gotham, Y/N.”

“So, why do you need me?”

“There are files and codecs that would decipher who their buyers are and where they hold auctions around the world. Nothings digital. They’re old school. With that information, we could shut done their operation forever.”

Y/N’s face was serious now. “What do you need me to do?”

“You have always had access to all the information. You just never knew it. All I need is for you to scan the files.”

She now looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t they say you're the world’s greatest detective? I find it hard to believe that you’d have problems breaking into the gallery after hours to get them for yourself…”

“It’s only completely lockdown as soon as it closes every night. Their security system is high-end and resets every 24 hours. Could we get into it eventually? Yes. But we’ve already been at it for weeks. And we’ve received word that there’s a big…” He hesitated. “…shipment happening any day. We don’t have time to waste.”

Y/N thought about what he was telling her.

“Why didn’t you go to Jason?” She finally asked.

“You said Jason doesn’t tell you what to do.”

Y/N glared at him for using her own words against her.

The apartment went quiet again.

Then Y/N nodded slowly. “There’s an opening tomorrow night. I can get them then.”

—————

Dick’s words haunted Jason for the rest of the night. He wanted to cut patrolling early and just get back to Y/N.

Now he swiftly moved into his apartment from the fire escape and immediately took off his helmet and domino mask underneath.

But Jason froze when he saw Y/N’s bat in the middle of the living room.

His heart raced at the immediate assumption that something happened to her. The furniture was untouched and there were no other signs of trouble, but he still rushed towards the bedroom anyway.

“Y/N?” He called out, despite it being nearly 4AM.

He let out a sigh of relief when he found Y/N slowly waking up from their bed.

“J?” She murmured, half asleep.

“Y/N, why is the bat in the living room?” Jason asked as he rubbed his face and then sat on the edge of the bed near her. Without even thinking, he cupped her cheek.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up more. “I thought I heard something and freaked myself out. But it was nothing.”

“Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me when shit like that happens.”

“But it was nothing,” she repeated. “What?” She added with a sigh when he was giving her that disapproving look.

“I don’t care if it ends up being nothing. If you’re scared, then I’m going to be here. OK?” Then he finalized his point with a quick kiss to her lips.

She nodded. “OK.”

Then she looked him up and down, realizing that he was still completely in his Red Hood gear, only without his helmet.

“You OK?” She asked in a whisper. Her eyes already scanning his body for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine,” Jason sighed. “I was just worried about you when I saw the bat. I thought something…”

Y/N quickly sat up in bed. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m fine. I’m OK. I was just being paranoid. I should’ve put the bat back. I’m sorry.”

A comfortable and reassuring silence settled between them.

“Why don’t you take a shower and come to bed?” Y/N offered softly.

Jason nodded and kissed her again.

As soon as he was out of the room, Y/N ran a hand over her face.

She hated lying to Jason. He didn’t deserve it. But she also knew he wouldn’t let her anywhere near an operation that Bruce was trying to pull off. This had to be the same thing that Tim had pulled Jason aside for at the gala.

But Bruce made one thing clear: he needed her help. And he wouldn’t do so if he wasn’t desperate.

———————-

The next night, Y/N couldn’t stop sweating and her heart rate was out of control. She tried to act like this was just another day of work, greeting customers, explaining the pieces, and answering questions.

But the need to get into the back offices when everyone else was gone would not stop nagging her.

With shaky hands, she tapped her ID on the scanner. Usually at this point in an event, all of her colleagues were either on the floor or had called it the end of their work day and headed home.

By some miracle, that was exactly the case.

Y/N locked the door behind her, never having seen a purpose for doing so any other day of working at the gallery.

“OK. OK. OK. Breathe,” she muttered to herself as her eyes scanned the room.

She knew where all the files were in the room. And Bruce had given her the keys to knowing what to look for. Now it was just a matter of putting the two together.

Y/N instantly went to work and started shuffling through papers, finding what was needed.

Bruce had given her a special pen that would scan every file within a second no matter what angle it was pointed at, so Y/N wouldn’t have any suspicious photos on her cellphone.

Y/N was almost done, covered in sweat and with shaking hands, when the door started jiggling.

She swore her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

With pure adrenaline, Y/N quickly put back the files that were in her hand.

But the person on the other side of the door was clearly getting impatient quickly and continued to mess with the doorknob.

Y/N jumped when it was finally kicked open. She whipped around to stare at a man who was nearly the size of Jason, but looked far deadlier. She’d never seen him at the gallery before, which meant he was definitely part of Ibanescu’s gang.

“Can I help you?” She snapped rudely, trying to use her authority to hide her fear.

“What are you doing in here?” He accused.

“I work here. Who the hell are you?”

He ignored her question. “Why was the door locked?”

“You still haven’t told me who you are,” Y/N shot back.

And with that, she straightened her posture and started walking past him. But this man wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Just as she thought she’d slipped away, the man grabbed her by the arm.

“Excuse me,” Y/N hissed.

But he ignored her and started dragging her into the back storage area of the gallery and further away from the crowd.

Y/N tried to rip her arm from his grasp but his grip was vice-like and didn’t even seem fazed by her efforts to escape.

This was not good.

While Y/N was still hopeful that she could possibly talk her way out, she was also realistic.

Which is why she hit a button on her watch.

Jason had gifted it to her very early on in their relationship. It was a classic chronograph watch. But he had installed a panic button onto it.

“If something ever happens – even if you think you’re being overly cautious – you push this and it will send out a signal that I can track. I’ll be there before you know it.” That’s what he had told her when he gifted it, and she’d worn it every day since.

A few seconds later, Y/N was being shoved through the door that led to the back alley.

There was a group of men, just as large and intimidating as the one who still had a grip on her arm.

It was pouring rain and freezing outside. But the slight overhand of the building into the alley protected them slightly.

“What the fuck is this?” One of them asked.

“I found her snooping around in the offices,” he announced.

“I’m one of the directors of this gallery!” Y/N bit back. “I was checking the price points on pieces for a potential customer.”

“The door was locked,” the man added.

They all seemed to be looking at each other.

Y/N was frozen, trying to wait for the perfect moment to make a run for it.

But then she saw one of the men, who appeared to be in charge, eye the pen that was clipped to the pocket of her pants. She prayed that he was too stupid to think it was anything more than just a writing utensil.

But then he slowly walked up to her. He grabbed the pen from her pocket and inspected it.

Y/N swore time froze. She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t feel the tight grip on her arm that was surely going to bruise her.

Then the man’s gaze shifted from the pen to her eyes.

“Get her in the car,” he told the group.

Y/N’s heart dropped.

Without hesitating, she immediately started to fight the man holding her. With a swift motion, she kneed him hard in the groin, making him let out a growl and keel over. But he dropped his grip on her arm.

Despite wearing heels, she made a run for it. She didn’t get far, but she got far enough into the rain that she was already drenched.

Another man grabbed her, shoving her against the building and clenching her throat to a point of suffocation.

“You stupid bitch,” her original captor spat as he backhanded her across the face.

Y/N blinked as a ringing started in her ears and her face stung with pain.

“Get her in the car before you make a fuckin’ scene,” the leader warned.

But before they could respond to the command, the street lights went out, causing a surge of darkness to blind all of them.

Y/N tried to step away from her attackers as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. But she couldn’t see a damn thing. The pouring rain was only making it more impossible.

It wasn’t until one of the men cried out in pain and guns started firing that she could see anything. Except it was too fast for her to make out a clear picture. Every so often, a lightning strike or a muzzle flash would give her a short glimpse.

Lo and behold, Batman was taking out the men one by one. But every time Y/N’s eyes focused on his tall silhouette, he’d disappear. She couldn’t keep track of his movements. And apparently neither could any of Ibanescu’s men.

“Shoot the girl!” One of the men yelled.

Y/N’s eyes widened when two of the men turned their guns on her.

But just before they fired off their rounds, a small force tackled her to the side and behind the safety of a giant dumpster.

Y/N looked up to see a young boy shielding her with his own body.

Damian.

Things were so chaotic that she hadn’t even registered he was there, too.

Before she could say anything to him, there was another presence that dropped down beside her. The next second, she was being grabbed and pulled into the sky.

From the feel of his arms alone, Y/N immediately recognized it as Jason.

His grappling gun had brought them to the roof of the building.

Once their feet were grounded onto the roof, Jason barely stepped away and grabbed her shoulders.

Y/N couldn’t read his face from his helmet. But the subtle movements of his head made it clear that he was scanning her body to see if she’d been hit. It only took a few seconds to be convinced that she was clear.

Then he was grasping her face. “Stay here,” he told her before he used his grappling gun to vault back down into the alleyway.

Y/N ran to the edge of the room to look down.

When Jason returned to the fight below, he was ruthless.

Damian had seen the Red Hood with a vengeance many a time. But this… this was something different.

No bone was left unbroken.

Jason wasn’t just neutralizing these men…he was out for blood and pain.

The leader of the little gang was on his knees, covered in his own blood, when he looked up at Jason, who had a gun pointed just centimeters from his head.

“Red Hood, no!” Bruce growled as he threw a batarang, knocking Jason’s gun away from its almost-victim.

Jason whipped his head around. “They were going to kill her!”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen,” Bruce countered.

While they talked, Damian knocked out the man Jason almost murdered. By now, all of them were knocked unconscious or so injured that they couldn’t even open their eyes.

Jason’s entire body froze, realizing what had really happened. Bruce and Damian didn’t just happen to be there to save his girlfriend. This was their doing. They were the ones who had put her in this dangerous situation to begin with.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jason thundered.

Just as a flash of lightening struck, he turned to face Bruce, finding his new prey.

“She had an in and I asked her to use it,” Bruce explained evenly. “She agreed.”

“Of course she fucking agreed!” Jason yelled over the rain. “She’d never say no to helping! And you knew that, and you took advantage of it!”

Then he raised his gun, pointing it at Bruce.

“Put the gun down, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Jason hissed.

The next thing Y/N knew, Jason shot a bullet towards Bruce, causing her to let out a yell from above. In her heart she knew he hadn’t aimed to kill, but Bruce dodged the shot anyway.

Now the two men were fully fighting each other. Bruce seemed to be pulling his punches and just trying to remain on the defense. But Jason wanted revenge. Yes, Bruce and him had a dark history. But putting Y/N in danger erupted something inside Jason that made him see red in a way he never had before.

Just as Y/N was going to call out for Jason to stop, she heard someone drop beside her on the roof.

Dick stood a few feet away, standing tall in his Nightwing uniform.

“Dick, do something!” She begged.

“I can stop Bats, but I can’t stop him,” he told her.

“Then get me the fuck down there! Use your zip-line thingy!”

“Zip-line thingy?” Dick repeated, clearly offended. “This is a grappling–”

“Dick!” Y/N cut him off.

“Right, sorry.” He grabbed her, held her body tight to him, and lowered them down back to the alley.

When Y/N looked up, Bruce was on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

But Jason wasn’t done with him.

“You made it clear that you don’t give a shit about me. But putting the one person I love in danger just for you to solve a case? You’ve reached a new low,” Jason yelled as he slowly started to walk towards Bruce.

But before Jason could reach him, Y/N blocked his path.

She was soaking wet and shivering from both the cold rain and the shock.

Jason could already see the bruises covering her neck and face. He also didn’t miss the small line of blood that had trickled down her nose.

“Jason,” she whimpered. “That’s enough.”

He froze.

Y/N walked to him. “Please, just take me home,” she whispered.

Just seeing her made Jason’s entire body relax. But he was also reminded that she was the priority, not Bruce.

Noticing her shivering, he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Bruce, Dick, and Damian were barely able to see the short, loving moment before Jason flung a smoke capsule onto the ground, covering him and Y/N as he brought her into his arms.

By the time the smoke disappeared, Jason and Y/N were gone.

—————-

When Jason and Y/N got back to their apartment, Jason when into autopilot mode of nursing Y/N. He pulled her into their bathroom and immediately started helping her out of her wet clothes. Y/N couldn’t stop shaking, and he noticed.

Jason only left her side for the split moment when he turned to start the shower, making sure to make it extra hot.

Then he was right back at her side, taking off his uniform and matching her nudity.

When he gently tugged her into their abnormally large shower, there was nothing sexual about it.

Now that Y/N’s skin was bare to him, he looked at all the injuries she had.

There were a few scrapes that would heal in a week or so. But Jason’s gaze went dark every time they lingered on the bruises across her throat, face, and bicep. He should’ve killed all of those bastards.

Y/N leaned into Jason’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Because she knew that’s what this was. Jason wasn’t mad at her – at least, not yet. That could very much come later. But no, right now, he was scared. He put so much energy into keeping Y/N away from his other life, only for her to be thrown right into the center of it. And it wasn’t even his doing; it was Bruce’s.

“I know,” he bent down to whisper in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

Y/N didn’t know how long they stayed in the shower. But eventually Jason turned off the water and wrapped Y/N around in a fluffy white towel. She looked so young and innocent.

He moved her to their bedroom and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

Y/N watched him as he moved about the room, getting each of them clothes – all from his own closet.

“Are you hungry?” He asked her carefully as he handed her a pair of his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

She shook her head.

Jason wasn’t surprised. One of the side effects of trauma and shock was a loss of appetite. But he made her drink a huge glass of water before he let her get in bed. And he made a mental note to make a big breakfast tomorrow when her body recovered and realized how starving it was.

When they were both finally under the covers, Jason didn’t hesitate to pull Y/N completely in his arms, smothering her with his giant frame. She welcomed his touch and warmth, burying her face into his chest.

Neither of them knew who needed this closeness more.

Tonight had been scary. Y/N knew Jason’s anger was bound to show up at some point. But right now, both of them were just grateful they were okay.

————————-

To Y/N’s surprise, she woke up in bed alone.

But her concern didn’t last long as she heard Jason moving around in the kitchen and she could hear soft music was playing if she listened hard enough.

When Y/N moved to get out of bed, she felt all the soreness that came from being grabbed and thrown around like she was last night. She winced, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. But she made a mental note to hide any signs that she was in pain from Jason.

Over their time together, Y/N and Jason got disturbingly good at reading one another. So, when Y/N walked into the kitchen to find Jason making breakfast, she immediately sensed things were not good. It wasn’t the cooking that tipped her off. His naked back was to her and she could somehow see the tension in his shoulders – in his whole body.

Y/N knows he heard her as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

“There’s coffee,” he says without turning around from the stove. He’s making pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, to be precise.

Y/N pours herself some coffee and sits at the table, watching him.

A few minutes pass before she’s had enough of the tension.

“If you’re gonna yell at me, then yell at me,” she told him.

Jason froze for a moment, but then quickly looked at her over his shoulder. “When have I ever yelled at you?”

He had a point.

Yes, Jason was once filled with only rage. There was a reason some feared Red Hood more than the Batman. He was ruthless. Fueled by vengeance, his temper, and his disappointment in the evil that plagued the world. He fought his enemies, but he also fought with his friends and family.

But Jason Todd was none of those things with Y/N. He never lost his temper with her. He never projected his rage and hardships from what he saw as Red Hood onto her. He’d never even raised his voice with her.

“I know,” Y/N admitted. “But I also know you’re still angry.”

Jason sighed, turning off the stove and bringing a giant plate of pancakes to the table.

But Y/N couldn’t eat while having this discussion.

Jason leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have let me do it,” Y/N countered.

“Yeah, and for good reason.”

“He used you, Y/N.” Jason tried to explain. “You’re untrained… with no exposure to this world. He knew not to involve you and he went behind my back to do it anyway.”

Y/N lowered her head in shame. There was a part of her that felt useless. She couldn’t jump around rooftops and save those who needed it. She was just…normal.

“I just wanted to help,” she mumbled.

Jason leaned forward from seeing her upset. “Y/N, come here.” He reached for her hand and baited her towards him.

She took his offer and moved from her chair to straddle his lap.

Jason held her waist tightly as he pressed his forehead to her’s. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

“You’re not going to,” she reassured him.

“Please, I’m begging you, don’t ever do something like that again.”

Y/N’s heart hurt at how desperate he sounded. She had realized far too quickly that Jason wasn’t scared of death. He was only scared of her death.

“I promise,” she told him.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me, Y/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Jason accepted her apology with a kiss. But it didn’t end quickly. In fact, it got more heated and hungrier. His grip got firmer on her waist.

Y/N knew where this was going, especially as he thumbed the hem of her hoodie and sweatpants. But they both needed this.

“The pancakes, Jason.” She warned him.

Jason smiled as he pulled away from her lips. “Fuck the pancakes,” he told her in between kisses. “I’m takin’ you back to bed.”

—————————

A few weeks had passed since the incident. Y/N tried to get her relationship with Jason back to normal. He still insisted on keeping his vigilante life away from her. But there was more of an understanding for why now.

However, tension had risen again a couple days after the attack, when they received an interesting gift in the mail. They had opened a rather large envelope addressed to the both of them.

Inside were two first-class plane tickets to Paris with their names on them and an open reservation at Hotel Le Royal Monceau.

Y/N had stared at them with more of an understanding than Jason.

She’d looked up at Jason. “I…I told him I’ve always wanted to go to Paris when I first met him at the gala.”

He’d glared at the gift. “Typical Bruce. If he can’t punch his way out of an issue, he’ll try and buy it.”

Neither of them had said anything about actually using tickets and reservation. It just collected dust on one of their end tables.

Now Y/N sat in their apartment alone, reading another one of Jason’s books, when her cell started ringing.

It was a number she didn’t know, but she decided to answer it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Alfred Pennyworth,” a charming voice answered back.

Y/N couldn’t help, but smile. As if she knew more than one Alfred in the world. “Hi, Alfred.”

“I thought it would be a good time to give you that lesson you asked for. Are you free today?”

Y/N looked around her apartment. All of her plans for today had consisted of laying around, drinking coffee, doing a bit of reading.

“Yes, today would be great.”

—————

Y/N wouldn’t make the same mistake twice and had given Jason the heads up on her change of plans.

Seeing as Jason had no issue with Alfred, he didn’t seem too bothered bit it all. But he did still tell her to be careful and ended the call with a sincere, “I love you.”

It was strange going back to Wayne Manor when there wasn’t a gala being held there.

Y/N thought it would seem more like a home this time around, but it still felt like a museum to her. And yet, she still had imposter syndrome as she walked through the threshold.

Alfred gave her a warm smile as he opened the door. “It is lovely to see you again, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Alfred, please, it’s just Y/N.”

He nodded. Then he gestured for her to follow him. “Come. I have a station set up in the cave.”

Y/N stuttered to a stop. “Cave? As in the Bat Cave?”

Alfred seemed amused with her hesitation and concern. “Of course.”

“Should I be – Is that even OK?” Y/N fumbled through her question.

“Well, I don’t see the point of hiding it from you. It’s not like you don’t know all the family secrets already, dear.”

Y/N blinked at that and finally continued following him.

Alfred led her through the secret passage way as if he was taking her to the dining room. She tried to control her reactions and not come off too interested in the details of it all. But it was rather hard.

Just like Alfred told her, there was a little medical station set up in a brighter lit area of the dark and dingy cave.

Y/N half expected him to bring up the recent drama that she’d caused. But ever the gentleman, Alfred didn’t so much as mention it.

He also did as he promised, going through everything she could ever need to know while tending to Jason. He even had little models to practice sewing stitches on. He was a good teacher and Y/N was soaking it all up like a sponge.

She couldn’t imagine her going to med school at any point. But knowing these skills were going to be used to help Jason made it easier to retain.

After hours of teaching, the cave awoke as a carport opened and the batmobile sped in.

Y/N internally swore. She’d hoped not to run into Bruce with this visit. He never seemed to be home, so the odds had seemed low. But clearly she’d messed that up.

Bruce stepped out of the car, taking in the two of them.

“Any injuries, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked politely.

Bruce was about to lie, but he glanced down at his abdomen where it was quite obvious he was bleeding.

“Perfect. My pupil can practice on you,” Alfred announced.

Y/N’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh! That’s definitely a bad idea…”

“Nonsense. Best way to learn is under pressure,” he winked. “I shall go off and start dinner. Let me know if you’re near death, Master Wayne.”

Y/N watched him leave, regretting ever having come here.

When she turned back around, Bruce was removing his cowl.

“He’s right,” Bruce admitted. “Best way to learn is under pressure.” Then he moved to sit in the medical chair.

Y/N swallowed, realizing how dry her mouth was. “Right.”

Her hands shook as she tried to remember everything Alfred had been through. But she knew in the back of her mind that Bruce was fully capable of stitching himself up. So, as much as this was a set up from Alfred, Bruce wasn’t running away from it like she had tried to.

Y/N hadn’t said a word as she cleaned his wound, only apologizing when she thought was necessary – even though he never made a sound of pain or even so much as winced.

Bruce seemed to be following her lead, not wanting to force her to talk if she didn’t want to.

But after 20 minutes or so of silence, Y/N couldn’t take it any longer.

“You know, you can’t buy his forgiveness,” she said as she focused on her stitches.

“I wasn’t only looking for his forgiveness…”

Her eyes flickered to meet his awaiting gaze. “You can’t buy mine either.”

“I owe you an apology,” Bruce began to her surprise. “I should have never involved you. It was dangerous, despite how in control of situation I thought I was.”

“I agreed to it,” Y/N offered. Then she looked at him again. “But I accept your apology.”

A moment passed before Y/N asked, “Are you going to say that to him, too?”

“I would if he would even consider talking to me.”

With that comment, Y/N put down her tools for a second and straightened her posture. “I may not know you very well, Bruce. But I do know that you and Jason are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

She hesitated on continuing. Did Bruce even deserve advice from her?

“He was hurt. And he showed all of you that hurt by being angry, because he didn’t know how else to tell you. He doesn’t feel heard and he doesn’t feel seen. He was lost. And it’s hard for him to just forget how you all handled it.” She took in a deep breath. “But I know he still sees all of you as his family. And you’re the closest thing he’s ever had to a real father.”

Then she quickly grabbed her tools again and cleared her throat. “So, get over yourself, and just talk to him. And I mean actually talk to him – not as Batman and Red Hood, but as Jason and Bruce.”

The cave went quiet.

Y/N couldn’t help herself and looked up at Bruce. Either she was losing her mind or he was giving her a very shy smirk.

“What?” She blurted out.

But before he could answer, a motorcycle sped into the cave.

Y/N would recognize Jason’s bike anywhere. But he wasn’t in uniform. Instead, opting for his black leather jacket and a normal tinted motorcycle helmet.

After he took it off, he eyed the two of them, trying to read the room.

“Hey,” Y/N said shyly.

“Figured I’d come and pick you up,” Jason answered her unasked question, ignoring Bruce.

Y/N looked down at Bruce’s injury. “Actually, I’m all done here.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said sincerely as Y/N covered the wound with a bandage. “You’ll be a better nurse than Alfred in no time.”

Y/N grinned and took off her gloves.

But then she met Jason’s unsure gaze. They had a silent conversation.

“I’m gonna go say goodbye to Alfred,” she quickly told Jason, but really she was telling both of them. “Meet me out front when you’re ready?”

Jason hesitated, but nodded.

Y/N walked to him and gave him a quick kiss for comfort and encouragement.

And then she was off, leaving the two men alone.

Jason shifted his weight, not knowing where to start.

“You’re lucky to have her,” Bruce finally spoke.

Jason winced even though it was a compliment. “I don’t deserve her.”

Bruce stood up. “That’s not true.”

“You of all people know I’m not a good man, Bruce.”

He shook his head. “We may have different views on how to save this city. But we both want the same thing. That doesn’t mean you’re not a good man, Jason.”

Jason blinked at his statement.

“I owe you an apology for... a lot,” Bruce began. “The first is putting that girl in danger.” He paused. “The second was not protecting you – before and after everything that happened.”

“You mean before and after I died?” Jason wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Bruce’s jaw clenched at that.

“Anything else you want to apologize for?” Jason challenged.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed. “But I get the feeling that you don’t want to hear it all right now.”

There was a pause.

“You’ll always be my son, Jason. Even if you no longer see me as your father.”

Jason’s eyes filled with tears at Bruce’s words. But he held them back. He couldn’t break down. He couldn’t be weak. Not here. Not now. Not like this.

He couldn’t take any more of this discussion. But he knew this was what he’d been wanting to hear from Bruce for so long.

“I’ll see you around, Bruce.” He told him before putting his helmet back on.

But Bruce had one last thing to say. “Keep her close. Don’t be like me, Jason.”

‘Don’t push people who love you away and make this darkness be your only life,’ was what Bruce would never actually have the courage to say.

Jason now had the cover of his helmet to hide his expressions. But he gave Bruce one last glance before tearing out of the cave.

—————

As Jason pulled his motorcycle up to the front of the manor to pick of Y/N, Damian was playing out front with Titus on the gravel drive.

“Hey, Demon Spawn,” Jason greeted after taking off his helmet.

“Todd,” the boy replied coldly.

To his surprise, Jason got off his bike and walked to him with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Damian eyed him.

“I saw what you did that night. You saved her life,” Jason said.

Damian waited.

Jason held out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you.”

The boy hesitated before finally shaking it.

Jason didn’t expect Damian to say anything. But he did know talking to him like an adult, instead of a kid, was the only way to get through to him.

Then Y/N was walking out to them with Alfred lingering in the doorway.

“Hi, Damian,” she greeted sweetly before greeting his dog as well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Jason was surprised he even remembered her name.

“Ready to go?” He asked Y/N.

She nodded. But then reached up to touch the white in his hair. She seemed to have a fondness for it. And Jason didn’t seem to mind.

“You OK?” She asked.

He nodded. “Better.”

She gave him a shy but encouraging look. “I’m glad.”

“I love you, you know,” Jason breathed.

“I know,” she smiled.

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

Oh lordy. That took way longer than I was expecting. But kept my mind off of this dumpster fire of a country. And I hope reading it did the same for you ❤️

#jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood fic #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #batman universe

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batlingsstuff · 3 years

Text

|| DREAM SMP HEADCANON|| Ranboo with Dementia

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

AYYY WHAT'S UP GUYS it's me :) i'm sorry this took so long to make, school is fxcking me over

okay okay now onto the headcanon

this will be pure angst, so be ready boys ;)

also, this is completely platonic.

insp: Everywhere at the End of Time - The Caretaker

TW/CW // anxiety, death, panic attacks, hallucinations, dementia

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

┌────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┐

GENDER NEUTRAL

└────── ⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ ──────┘

✦ - STAGE ONE

at first everything was normal, you two were best friends and did basically everything together

he ocassionally forgot little things, like where he left his pickaxe and other stuff

it was harder for him to concentrate so you always were there for him to help him with everythimg, even just little things

and he appreciates it so much

then the behaviour changes, like suddenly getting more angry and/or impatient

and being more cheerful than usual

then the anxiety, he was always scared and one time he had a really bad panic attack

you were absolutely concerned about him and decided to take care of him

you never left his side

he always talked about how scared he was

and ranted for hours

until he forgot about his problems

✦ - STAGE TWO

everything stayed like that for two years, then he started forgetting major things, like people's names

one day you two went to visit your friend, jack manifold

he couldn't remember his name or who he was

you noticed there was something wrong with him, and decided to take him to several hospitals and clinics

after several check-ups you got the results

he was diagnosed with dementia

you cried for hours while he was sitting next to you patting your back, constantly asking why you were crying

he would ask the same question several times, making you cry harder

you moved in with him to make sure he was taking his meds

"why am i taking these, (y/n)?"

'for your own sake'

one day you took him to a walk around snowchester and he looked disorientated, not knowing what was that place

✦ - STAGE THREE

everything was worse, so much worse

he lost his memory book because he misplaced it somewhere, but you don't know where

he had trouble with speaking and stumbled with his words most of the time

tubbo, his platonical husband, came to visit every now and then to check up on ranboo

but ranboo forgot who was him

"your husband? haha oh no, i don't rem...ember getting engaged, i'm sorry."

"why are you crying?"

tubbo stopped visiting after that

he often had problem differentiating colours

one day he was so depressed that he couldn't get out of the bed for two days

after that, he seemed to have trouble recognizing you

'ranboo, it's me, your best friend (y/n)! don't you remember me ranboo? please remember.'

"i... don't know who you are... i'm sorry. i don't even r...ecall having a b-best friend."

you couldn't stop crying

your best friend was slowly losing his memories, and you couldn't do anything about it

i guess it's over, isn't it?

✦ - STAGE FOUR

his memory problems got so much worse, he forgot that water could actually damage him

he was curious about the rain, so he got out one day when it was raining and put out his hand to reach the droplets

he hissed in pain when the water damaged his skin and stormed back inside

hopefully you treated his wounds quickly and told him that it was better if he stayed in bed for now

while he was in bed and you were trying to get some rest besides him, he allucinated about a whole ass wave drowning him and he started to scream, like if he was in pain

you woke up due to the screaming and tried to calm him down, hugging him tightly and shushing him

he calmed down after a few minutes, sobbing loudly and returning the hug

he was scared, he didn't want to die

he couldn't talk at this point, every noise that came out of his mouth was incomprehensible, he was unable to communicate with others normally

you couldn't understand him, he couldn't understand you

your friendship was falling apart with the time

but afterall, you were there for him.

and that warmed his heart, even if he wasn't aware of that.

✦ - STAGE FIVE

he stayed up late multiple times, just watching you sleep or looking at the window, not able to think about anything

he felt like he was disconnecting from reality, like if his soul was slowly leaving his body

everything was foggy in his mind as he started to forget who was he, what was his name and occupation, who were his friends

who were his friends? is a question that he often asked himself

he looked at you one more time while he repeated that question simultaneously

"they're my friend."

he repeated that sentence several times, like if he was reassuring himself so he wouldn't forget that you were his friend.

he wrapped his arms around you while you slept, pulling you in a gentle hug

"thank you."

why was he thanking you? he felt like you were doing something important for him

but he couldn't remember what it was.

and that frustrated him, so he started sobbing uncontrollably

but he managed to calm himself down thanks to the relaxing sound of your heartbeat

he felt like he was dying slowly, but he didn't care about that

he had a friend who cared about him, and that's what matters to him.

✦ - STAGE SIX

ranboo was worse than ever, he forgot how to eat food properly and the basic movements of the mouth to do so

so you had to help him by gently moving his jaw up and down so he could munch the food

deep down his heart, he was thankful.

he didn't understand what was happening to him or who you were, but he knew that you were his friend.

he would randomly start crying, but it wasn't out of sadness

they were tears of joy

he was thankful that you were his friend

as no one else came to visit anymore

so he spend up his last years snuggling with you, always trying to remind himself that you were special.

and he loved you dearly, platonically speaking

✦ - STAGE SEVEN

ranboo couldn't even get out of bed as he forgot how to use his legs properly, not being able to walk

so you brought him food to his bedroom and started talking with him everyday and you didn't care anymore if he didn't answer you

you knew he wasn't able to speak anymore

you even stopped caring about your life, like work and friends

you wanted to spend every single minute with ranboo so he wouldn't be alone in his last days of life.

the days passed by slowly and one day everything ended abruptly.

ranboo forgot how to breathe, his body reacted roughly to the lack of oxygen and started moving his hand uncontrollably

you were beside him scared and paralyzed, watching how the life drained slowly from him

after what seemed to be like a few minutes, he stopped moving

he gasped loudly as he remembered everything; his name, his friends, his origins, his house, his cats, his crown, his husband, l'manberg, his memory book, you.

after that, he whispered his last words:

"(y/n)?"

and boom, he was gone.

gone from this world, forever.

you shaked him in horror, screaming his name multiple times as you cried.

your best friend was gone, and you couldn't do anything about it

so i guess this is it, huh?

✦ - AFTER RANBOO // BONUS

you hosted his funeral and everyone except dream was invited

everyone cried for him, they felt guilty as no one except you were there for him when he most needed it

tubbo was heartbroken, he was in denial and left the funeral early, probably gone to spend time with michael, his son

after that, everyone went home and you noticed that a strange book was lying in your house's entrance

you went to inspect what was it and noticed the book was dusty so you cleaned it to read what the title was

the title was 'DO NOT READ'', you recognized that book as ranboo's memory book

you gasped and stormed inside the house to read it

you sat on a couch and flipped the first page, reading carefully every single page and making sure you didn't skip anything

while you were reading, a small note was found in one of the pages and you started reading it, noticing that his handwriting was more messy than usual

it read: "Hello, if you're reading this then this is embarrassing. I wanted to write out my feelings in this small note because I was scared to talk out this with (Y/N). The thing is: I'm scared. I've been losing my memories and it's scary, I'm scared of forgetting who am I or who are my friends, I don't want to lose them. I know I promised Tubbo and Michael that I would protect them, but I'm not sure if I can keep that promise anymore. Tubbo if you're reading this, I'm sorry, for everything. Things seem to go downhill everytime I forget about things, even if they're just small things like forgetting where is my crown, and I'm scared that I will eventually forget who are my friends. I don't want to lose (Y/N), they're my best friend and I'm not ready to lose them yet. I know it sounds stupid but I just wanted to write about how I feel, goodbye forever Memory Book."

oh no, you were sobbing again.

"why didn't you tell me sooner, ranboo?"

"why?"

✧─── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

IT'S FINISHED, FINALLYYyyY Yy YY yes i love angst i love making people suffer

ANYWAYS thank you if you readed all of that shit, also big thanks to my friend moony for helping me with the grammar since i don't do english

moony if you're seeing this i love you /p

ANYWAYS THANK YOU ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!!!!

#ranboo x reader #ranboo #dream smp #headcanons #everywhere at the end of time #dementia #mcyt #angst #angst fic #eateot #NOO SHIT I FORGOT MY HOMEWORK

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citydreamgrls · 3 years

Text

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !! secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

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