#wearing your hair loose marks you as a civilian

[hom3landr]

That Unwanted Animal

18+

Homelander x Soulmate!reader

You don’t love Homelander. Even when he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted.

Loosely based on this post from @blindmagdalena

His t-shirt is soft under your hands as you cling to him. The baseball cap shields his features from you as presses you against the alley wall. The blue fabric rubs against your cheek as he thrusts up into you. The both of you avoid eye contact and as you bury your face into his shoulder, the scent of his cologne nearly chokes you. You thought it would be easier like this. You’d believed that maybe without the suit you could pretend your “lover” was a normal man. Maybe the two of you had met at a bar, or a doctor’s office, or while walking dogs in the park. You could have been an ordinary couple with a soulmate story fit for a Hallmark movie.

But a change of clothes can’t distract you from the fact that this man, your soulmate, is the very man you’ve dedicated your life to bringing down. It’s a sick joke, isn’t it? You love your team. Hughie is always there with a shoulder to cry on. M.M. gives good advice. Frenchie and Kimiko have become almost like siblings to you. Even Butcher you hold fondness for, as infuriated as he often makes you. They’re your family and yet you’re here fucking enemy #1 in a filthy alley and he’s going to make you come.

You bite his shoulder to keep from crying out as he effortlessly holds you up. It would be easier if he was bad in bed. The soulmate bond would still suck ass, but at least you wouldn’t derive pleasure from it. He came so fast the first time you fucked him that you’d initially been relieved. It had been perfect until he’d spread your legs to lap his own come from you until you’d shuddered helplessly against his tongue. You’d gone home and cried after, despite the pleasure still pulsing warmly through your veins.

You can’t even say it isn’t consensual. Your bond causes you to ache for him viscerally. Hell, this time you sought him out. He didn’t even protest when you laid out your terms. He had seemed more amused than anything. When he showed up wearing civilian clothing like you demanded, you almost turned him away with tears pricking at your eyes.

He looks soft, human, like someone you could love, a real soulmate. Even as he pumps into you, the peek of blond sticking out from beneath the cap makes you ridiculously endeared against your will. If only he was anyone else…

Soulmates have always been romanticized to a ridiculous degree, despite everyone knowing a story of some person who is enslaved by their mark instead of liberated. There are many things that can tie two souls together besides love. Yet everyone still longs for the day they find their match, in hopes of the happiest of endings. You had been no different.

You whine and clench around him as he angles himself differently, his cock sliding even deeper into you until it feels like you're choking on it. Your mark burns and the empty pit in your stomach that lingers in his absence is washed away with each heated pulse. The nausea of being away from him finally subsides with each brush of your skin against his. He sighs happily into your hair, as the same sense of belonging envelopes him. This feels right and it makes you want to scream.

“Mine,” he growls against your temple.

“Yours,” your bond answers for you.

You only ever fuck him in comfortless places.

Your heels dig into his ass and you rock yourself into his thrusts. He nips at your ear gently…affectionately. He can’t distinguish between true love and the oppressive obsession that comes with a mate. You don’t love him. Things would be easier if you did.

Why couldn’t he be anybody else?

“Is this good?” He asks needily. He can sense your distraction. He wants to be good for you. He wants to please you. You flutter around him and one hand strokes the back of his neck tenderly despite the mental torment that you’re facing. No one has ever been so attentive during sex before. He makes you feel cherished. Even when you beg for him to make it hurt, he refuses. The same hands that have commited endless cruelties hold you like something rare and precious.

You don’t answer and you can feel his petulant frown against your skin as he waits for feedback.

He adjusts you effortlessly in his grip so he can stroke you exactly the way he’s learned you like it. You whine desperately as you leak all over his fingers and drip onto the ground below. He sighs at the feeling.

“I love you so much.” He whispers intimately into your ear. His sincerity makes you want to weep. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”

It doesn’t matter how many times you rebuke him or refuse his offer to take you home with him. He still believes that you feel the same. He believes that one day he’ll find you soaking wet at his penthouse door, having run across the city in the pouring rain to him, confessing how much it hurt to push him away. He wants the satisfaction of knowing that you abandoned your team from sheer want of him. He thinks of your situation as a romantic comedy that hasn’t hit the emotional climax yet.

It’s pathetic and delusional and you hate how close you know you are to fulfilling it. You don’t love him…but you know you could.

Despite how hard you try to resist, you come hard and you sob into his neck at the intensity of it. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he rubs you through it. You kiss him to shut him up and he groans into your mouth as he releases inside you. He kisses you back desperately, seeking whatever crumbs of affection you let yourself give him, using them as proof to fuel his delusional fantasies.

Once you’ve both ridden out your respective orgasms, he finally pulls back to look at you. The softness in his eyes belongs to a kinder man. Your stomach flips. His cap has been knocked slightly askew and he looks human. He frowns slightly and the hand he was using to bring you pleasure brushes something off your cheek.

“You’re crying.” He remarks, hand now cupping your cheek as his thumb strokes your skin in an attempt to comfort you. You want him to be rude to you the way he is to everyone else. You want him to mock you and make crass disrespectful remarks. You open your mouth to reply and a broken sob comes out. He hushes you softly and leans down to kiss the tears that roll down your cheeks

“I love you.” You confess finally, the truth is bitter and shameful in your mouth. You’ve finally stopped lying to yourself

“You say that every time. Are you actually going to follow through or are you going to deny yourself some more?” He asks dryly, cocking his head at you. His grip flexes as he continues to press you against the wall.

You both know the answer. Just like you both know that one day the answer will be different.

Your team better succeed before then.

[catflorist]

omg that sasusaku art you reblogged... i would pay so much money for your take on that prompt!!!

hi anon! here you go! :) thank you for this prompt, it's been a long time since i wrote anything and it was really fun! i hope you like it!

inspired by this incredibly beautiful artwork by @millientea!

dreams [post-war sasusaku, rated T] ao3 / ffn

In the brief time between the break of his fever and the break of dawn, Sasuke was absent of all his guilt. He held onto Sakura’s hand, and fought sleep to experience the sensation for as long as possible.

After the war, Sasuke's injuries keep him stuck in the hospital. Sakura visits every day.

First Sasuke lost a war with himself. Then he lost an arm. Then the infection and the fever struck, making him keel over then shiver feebly in his hospital bed for three days straight.

His more lucid moments were filled with strangers whizzing into his room to poke and prod him and stick needles horribly into his arm. And when the fever took hold, it carried him downstream to delirium. His nightmares were kind enough to visit him in waking hours, magnified and painted in strong color and detail. And each time he drifted briefly back to consciousness he was greeted with hot, billowing pain at the stump of his arm and the sound of his vitals blaring.

Later a team of doctors inform him that he’s survived a deadly case of sepsis and avoided a second amputation of his left arm. He’ll need bedrest and continued close monitoring. Naruto’s healing well, he hears. Figures.

The days blur. An IV chains Sasuke to bed, where he chokes on boredom thick as smoke. He memorizes the markings of each bird that lands on his windowsill. He watches a ball of dust in the corner move three riveting inches to the left over the course of twenty-four hours. He whips out his sharingan to memorize the lines of his palm, and compares that image to a corresponding record from the last time he was bored to death in a hospital. His heart line has grown longer.

Monotony breaks whenever Sakura breezes into his room.

“I brought you apples.” She smiles at him, a little knowingly. The apples are cut neatly into decorative slices.

She visits at the beginning and end of each shift. In the mornings she smiles brightly in a crisp white coat, and twelve hours later she still smiles brightly, with tired circles under her eyes and loose uncombed hair. This time she’s wearing civilian clothes, here to see him even on her day off.

She’s fearless, for her part. He’s quiet.

When he thinks back to the haze of fever, he remembers slender and cool fingers smoothing damp hair from his brow. A swirl of healing chakra that felt like the way her voice sounds. When he awoke, a nurse mentioned the doctor attending his case invented a new chakra technique on the spot to siphon away the infection.

Sasuke didn’t need to ask who. She never said anything, and he never asked.

He suspects Sakura’s involvement elsewhere, too. When he thinks about why he’s not kept in handcuffs or locked away entirely. In the roasted tomatoes that appear on his meal trays. The reason why Naruto is allowed the occasional visit, shuffling in on crutches and staying until the nurses chase him away.

Sakura sets the plate of apples at his bedside. Today, they resemble rabbits. Sasuke has never eaten more apples in his life, but he does not think of complaining.

“Good news. Your IV is coming out tomorrow!” She smiles, waiting for his reaction.

Right. He should be happy. The feeling flickers dimly and goes out like a damp torch.

Sasuke doesn’t know what his life will look like from here on out. There’s nothing left to hunt after. The main sources of his suffering have all vanished or changed form. All that awaits him is empty space and time—time to reflect, to let the cumulation of all his actions and decisions sink in.

He doesn’t regret the desertion, the treason, as much as others might hope. If he were to go back in time, knowing what he knows about the village, his choices might even look similar. But he regrets hurting the people who cared for him.

He regrets hurting her.

Sakura’s smile has faded. “What’s wrong?”

Sasuke wants to sink under his blankets, to be alone with his guilt. “Nothing.”

“Are you in pain?”

He throws her a glare. “I said it’s nothing.”

Years ago, this would have been enough to scare her away. Now green eyes meet his with full force. “Don’t do this. Don’t be distant.” Sakura’s fingers flex and curl at her sides. “Whatever is on your mind, you can tell me.”

She treats him with such kindness, such patience, though he’s certain he doesn’t deserve it.

“Why are you here, Sakura?” he asks quietly.

“I’m a doctor,” she says, with a flash of irritation.

“You know what I mean.” Sasuke’s vision swims like the beginnings of a migraine. “Leave me. Get on with your life.” He wants the words to carry a touch of contempt, but the lump in his throat filters it all out.

“Why would I leave you?” The pure sincerity of her voice cuts him through. “We just got you back.”

His tongue feels thick and heavy. “I’ve hurt you.” How could she forget?

“I’ve hurt you, too.”

He manages a shake of the head. It’s not the same.

“It’s in the past,” she insists. “We want you in our lives—we always have!”

“I don’t understand why,” he bites, gaining strength.

“Because I love you!”

Birds take off from the windowsill.

Wringing her hands, Sakura clarifies, more weakly, “I love all my friends.”

An icy flame tears through Sasuke’s entire body. He doesn’t believe her. Somehow, he must have tricked her. After everything he’s done, how can someone lower themselves so deeply as to love him? Hot pressure rises behind his eyes. He opens his mouth to recite every reason why she’s wrong.

“So get used to it,” Sakura snaps, recovering and doubling down, like she knows what he’s about to say. Sakura, who has always been a little brazen with her affection, who has so much love and care to give that it confounds him and most others. “I don’t care what’s happened or how long it’s been. You’re still my teammate.”

Sasuke feels a phantom of his past self crouch on his chest. It whispers, push her away, break the plate of apples. Trust yourself and no one else. Be alone. This is the way he knows to protect himself. It’s worked so well, all throughout his life, he can’t imagine anything different.

Does he need to protect himself, from her? Did he ever?

“And…you’re still my friend.” Sakura’s shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. “If that’s what you want.”

Outside, a raven’s feather drifts in a slow spiral of wind. Sasuke nods.

Sakura straightens. “Good.” Her eyes are jade reflecting fire. “Being friends won’t kill you, I promise. See you in the morning.”

In the morning, Sakura arrives to remove his IV. She’s still carrying an air of quiet victory. To inch this close, to insist on picking up their friendship exactly where they left it, that’s some audacity. Bravery, even.

He needs it.

His heart would crack without it.

Sakura carefully loosens the adhesive and presses gauze over the IV site. Sasuke is already looking away, taking a shallow breath to prepare himself.

“There’s no needles at this part,” she says.

It’s true, he hates needles—one glimpse and he breaks into a cold sweat. But he’s never told anyone. It bothers him that she noticed. “How did you know?”

“I’m a doctor,” she says, which explains very little. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Still hate it,” he breathes.

“I know,” she says. “Done.”

He looks back. She smiles when their gazes meet, holding down pressure on his arm. He didn’t feel a thing.

“You make a small sound.” Her voice is soft. “Under your breath. Like you’re trying to speak but hold it back.”

Sasuke thought he hid the discomfort well. If he can miss such small details about himself, no wonder he was wrong about almost everything—what path to take, and where to place blame, and who to trust. His world has turned over too many times to count.

His senses hone in on Sakura’s touch, muted as it is through gloves and layers of gauze. She’s never changed. Never failed to ease his hurts.

He wants to ask about the fever. The infection that strode in like one last attempt by the world to kill him. She saved his life.

He feels his hand float through the air, stretching towards her face.

Empty air buzzes where his fingers should be grazing her brow. He’s still not used to the loss of his dominant hand. His stump lowers back to his side. Sakura’s expression remains calm, unknowing.

“Thank you,” he says instead.

He knows what the words will mean to her. And so he says it.

A soft smile overtakes Sakura’s face. Sasuke is known for his infamous gaze, but now he doesn’t know where to put it. When to meet her crinkling eyes and for how long. If it’s considered normal to observe the rise of her cheek, the strands of pink hair falling around her face. If he should risk a glance at her smiling lips. The decisions overwhelm him, and he finds he must look away.

Something is different, he thinks.

.

.

“He’s on your roster today? Good luck.”

Sasuke’s room is stationed at a quiet bend of the hall, a blind spot between patient rooms and administrative offices where hospital staff stop to gossip before continuing on their rounds. Whether he wants to or not, he’s often forced to eavesdrop.

“—ripped out his IV. Yes, just ripped it out. Three times. Maybe four. Wouldn’t let anyone touch him.”

“Have you noticed all those horrible birds outside his window? The crows?”

A laugh. “Never seen anything like it. Like a curse, I swear—”

“Excuse me.” The conversation grinds to a halt at Sakura’s sharp voice. “Room Four is still waiting on warm blankets.”

Footsteps scatter in two different directions. Sakura sweeps into his room. Her face is a storm. If he saw that expression on a battlefield, he would reach for his weapon. He pictures her cutting apple slices into playful shapes to reverse the effect.

“Don’t listen to them,” she mutters, and throws the curtain divider closed.

“I don’t care.”

“I care.” Absent-minded, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth, Sakura does something she’s never done before: she sits on his bed. All Sasuke’s attention is pulled to the hand’s width of space between his ankle and the slight dip of her weight on the mattress. He slowly shifts his legs away, careful not to draw her notice.

Sakura pulls a velvet pouch out of her coat. “Here. I brought something.”

The most exciting part of Sasuke’s day was when the scent of antiseptic wafted through the door a little stronger than usual. His interest spikes. “What is it?”

Sakura opens the pouch and pours dozens of black and white Go pieces onto the bedspread. She begins arranging the board among the folds of his blankets, and after a moment, Sasuke leans forward to help. He hasn’t played Go since he was a child, but the smooth, round stones feel familiar in his palm, and the rules come back quickly. They play five games in a row without speaking. Sakura wins the first, and he wins the last four.

When they look up again, it’s dark. Sasuke’s neck is stiff from bending over the game for so long. Time has never passed so quickly for him in the hospital.

Sakura is sitting fully atop the bed now, as she has for the past three games, legs crossed with a pensive hand held to her chin. She packs away the game pieces in silence and pulls the drawstring shut. A crease lingers between her eyebrows.

“You could have died.”

Her eyes swell with tears. She doesn’t make a sound.

“I didn’t,” Sasuke says, soft as he can.

“But you could have.” The tears flow faster than she can wipe them away.

“You didn’t let me.” It makes his gut twist to see her cry, even if she cries because his life matters to her.

“I almost didn’t bring the flowers that day. I didn’t know if you’d want them.” Sakura lifts a sleeve to her face. “If I wasn’t there when the shock hit…”

Sasuke struggles to follow. His memory of the whole ordeal is hazy. He has a vague recollection of a nurse removing a vase of wilted flowers from the bedside in the days after the fever lifted.

Sakura’s shoulders tremble with a sob. “I could have lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me.” He catches her hand. Fingers slide together like whispering a secret. “You have me.”

She lifts her tearstained face. Sasuke feels feverish as his words echo back in the silence of their breathing. Her lips part, bitten and red.

“You only ripped out the IV twice, Sasuke-kun.”

Her expression is knit with determination. Sasuke can’t stop himself—a smile twitches onto his mouth. Sakura seems confused by the reaction, studying him hard.

Movement flashes in the corner of Sasuke’s eye as a large black bird lands smoothly on the windowsill. He recognizes this one for a miniscule nick in its leftmost flight feather.

“And the birds. They’re ravens,” he says evenly. “Not crows.”

Sakura smiles, sudden and shining and wide. Sasuke doesn’t fully understand the meaning of the exchange, but contentment sweeps over him.

The warmth of her hand lingers long after she lets go, and he remembers something about the fever.

.

.

The infection stalls for days, but when the worst comes, it comes quickly.

First Sasuke’s mouth fills with saliva, then arrives a tsunami of inexplicable dread, and that’s all the warning he receives before an important current in his body shifts off-course and begins to sweep him away. Sasuke breathes deep. A sweet scent hovers in the air. Sakura arrived a moment ago with fresh-cut flowers.

His stump throbs with such a sick, bleeding ache that he loses his grip on his senses. His limbs are all trembling. Another breath. His lungs allow just enough air to call out her name.

Footsteps, a sharp voice. “Sasuke? What’s wrong?”

Healing chakra skims over his body. Sakura lets out a tense breath.

Sasuke knows suffering like he knows the face of an old friend. He can feel it loom over him, its breath ghosting the back of his neck.

“It’s—it’s serious, Sasuke-kun.” The air thickens with chakra, a thrum strong enough to detect by ear. “But you’re going to be fine.”

The breath returns to his lungs, but in exchange, screaming hot pain erupts at his arm and reverberates through every corner of his body. Each pain that flares and fades is replaced quickly by another. His mouth and the tip of his nose go numb. His vision cuts in and out. He is a boat tossed by angry waves, kept afloat solely by the light touch of Sakura’s fingertips.

“Don’t leave,” he hears himself say.

Her voice finds him like sunlight. “I won’t.”

“Do you hate me, Sakura?”

Not long ago, Sasuke hated her. The ache of hatred never left his chest. He hated her so much that her face sometimes replaced his nightmares, and he would wake up blinking away tears. He understands if she feels the same.

He never hears her response. A dark, turbulent quiet rushes over his head, and his old friend follows after him.

At dawn on the day his fever breaks, Sasuke floats awake, greeted by swirls of light floating on the inside of his eyelids. His body feels like his own, but different, like he’s been pulled apart and put back together in a different order. He curls his fingers—the numb tingle of phantom pain lights on one side. The fingers of his other hand tighten around something.

He opens his eyes to a world washed in soft grey. To Sakura’s sleeping face, her hair silver in the light. A dream? No, his mind doesn’t grant him peaceful dreams.

Her head rests tired and heavy on the edge of the bed. Between them lies their hands, tightly clasped, as if they met in a moment of turbulence and held on ever since. Long enough so he can’t distinguish her touch from his own. Flowers watch on the windowsill, shedding petals.

.

.

Sasuke plays more games of Go. Less needles are stuck into his arm. He begins to walk again. He feels fresh air on his face. Sakura’s visits continue like clockwork, until one morning she fails to walk through his door.

He sits and watches the birds as morning stretches into afternoon. The chair that has never left his bedside remains empty. After years apart, how quickly he’s grown accustomed to her presence. But this stretch of time is coming to a close. When he leaves the hospital, he doubts he will see her so often.

His window looks out onto the hospital roof, crisscrossed with pipes and exhaust vents, and a small sliver of the street. When the wind blows just right, the branches of a sakura tree wave into view, buds unfurling.

Hard as Sasuke tried to shunt away his past life, he could never escape the spring. The torture of falling petals, of green and pink. The world around him transformed as if to ensure he could never forget her.

Daylight is getting long when Sakura wobbles in, rubbing her eyes. “Hi.”

Sasuke’s spine straightens. “Hey.”

She sits in her spot by the bed, where he’s been playing a game of Go with himself. “How’s the game?”

“I’m losing,” he says.

Sakura smiles and shifts one of the white stones to a dangerous location. Warmth floods Sasuke’s chest, though now he’s certain to lose. Their hands move back and forth over the imaginary board, bold and quick.

Sakura yawns victoriously as she captures his last tile. “Another?”

Exhaustion shadows her eyes, but if he answers yes, she’ll delay sleep even longer. Does she ever sleep? Hospital staff are always wandering the halls to seek her opinion, or pull her into surgeries, or hand her a stack of paperwork. Yet she carves out a portion of her valuable time for him.

Sasuke shakes his head. But he’s not selfless enough to give up her company so soon. “How are you?”

Her tired gaze lifts and flicks away. A faint blush dusts her cheeks. Why? Is it strange for him to ask? He’s still ruminating when she answers. “I’m okay. It’s been a long day. Emergency surgery, complications, everything. I can’t remember the last time I slept…” Their fingers brush twice as they put away the game pieces. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t come earlier.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Sakura leans against his bed and drops her head onto her arms. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

What can he say? He did miss her.

Springtime has come again. The season used to drive him mad. The sakura flowering all at once, all over the continent, wherever he looked. The petals scattering like rain in the wind, catching in the folds of his cloak. The sight of blossoms on bare wood, crossing over his head in a blooming lattice. The five-petaled flowers, the five fingers of a hand he would never touch again. The color. It tested his patience, his devotion to his goal like nothing else.

Sasuke skims his fingers over the pink wave of her hair. He’s always wanted to, deep down. Sakura cracks open her eyes, catches him red-handed in his affection. He runs a thumb in the barest caress across her cheekbone. He is at his weakest in the spring.

“Come here,” he mumbles, fairly certain that she will. Terrified that she won’t.

“Where?” she whispers.

Sasuke lifts his chin. He rests his hand on the blanket. His fingertips burn from touching her. “Here.”

In the brief time between the break of his fever and the break of dawn, Sasuke was absent of all his guilt. He held onto Sakura’s hand, and fought sleep to experience the sensation for as long as possible. He did not deserve her, but he pretended he did.

Even as Sakura slides into the bed, rests her head in his lap, he cannot fully believe what he’s seeing. She presses closer to him, as if she wants to be close, and her eyes drift shut, as if his presence soothes her. A spell falls over Sasuke as he listens to her breathing. His hand lowers to her back.

Maybe, in the end, it’s as simple as she said. She loves him.

Sleepy green eyes blink open with a trace of shyness, of the girl that used to blush each time he spared her a glance. He will never admit how often he tested his powers. “You don’t mind?”

“No,” he says.

Sakura climbs higher. She folds her arms across his chest like he’s a pillow and tucks her cheek into the crook of her elbow. Sasuke’s heartbeat grows unsteady. Her hair smells the same, like jasmine.

Sasuke never imagined a future beyond his revenge, that his life could continue on and contain moments lit in a glow like sunlight through petals. Holding her awakens desires that have nothing to do with pain and sacrifice. He wants to stroke her hair until she falls asleep. He wants to visit her dreams. He wants even more. His chest aches in the way he once thought was hatred.

He touches her cheek, straightening out a lock of silky hair. She doesn’t stir.

Sasuke closes his eyes, and like he’s never had trouble with it before, dreams.

.

.

.

.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Leo my love...

I do distinctly remember you, back in the day, answering some asks about if the RO's appearance will change too during the series, with your answer being yes.

My question is if this plan has changed ? Hopefully not.

And if not, would you be willing to share with us what kind of changes you have planned for our dear RO's ?

Oh yeah, that hasn't changed haha, depending on the path the ROs will change appearance, powers, and in some cases shift personality a little. I have plans to execute a time skip of sorts, where you'll be reintroduced to the ROs as their evolutions.

For the sake of spoilers, I won't really go too in-depth on my plans for everything, but I can talk a bit about the general design concept of each ROs path that I want to take with them since it's probably a long way until that point anyway haha.

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Good Influence E: They remain relatively unchanged, doubling down on their more heroic nature to protect people. Their power focuses on speed, so their hairstyle becomes more windswept in the process. Wears casual top and shorts.

Bad Influence E: They're much more jaded and wear a greyscale zip-up hoodie and jeans (stubble if they're male). They focus on the destructive nature of their power to rid the world of evil. Unlike their counterpart, they mostly walk and aren't in a big hurry, casually deleting whoever gets in their way.

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Rebellion R: They have a robin hood mentality, using their elevated luck to pull off heists gentleman-thief style, calling card and all. To fit, they wear a simplistic gold masquerade mask and business casual.

Reclamation R: Based on a mafia motif with a gold-lined suit and tie and trilby hat. Their eyes also glow gold in this pathway from the general use of his power to cause misfortune to others.

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Peace L: They have a fortune teller motif with slight gypsy inspiration, wearing more robe/yukata style clothing. They learn how to focus their premonition and see further and clearer into the future.

Resolve L: They've evolved to have more Hospian shinobi attire, and their power has evolved into very in-depth clairvoyance of the immediate area.

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Soldier V: They've specialized into a Sniper utilizing a long-range bolt-action rifle and wearing a tactical vest and shemagh. Their hair has turned from silver to stark white. They utilize their power to create smokescreen and artillery.

Civilian V: They've learned how to fly a refurbished Spitfire plane from the pre-collapse era and can materialize one at will, though they've lost most of their arsenal doing so. They wear a loosely decorated bomber jacket, silver scarf, and have styled/pinned their hair.

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Cooperation P: has a thin red jacket and fireproof bandages covering burn marks on their hands and partway up their arms. Their power has evolved to carry them on burning wings and used in tandem with their spear.

Competition P: Has fireproof bandages covering the majority of their burn-marked body and replacing their upper clothing. Most of their skin has developed a reddish tint and their hair has an ember glow when they use their power without regulation.

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Masochism M: They have a slight reaper motif. Their skin is spotted with hints of frost and their breath has a constant mist. They use their power against the blade of their spear to create a scythe and drastically drop the temperature of the immediate area. Their hair now has subtle white highlights.

Alternate M: They use their power to summon spears of ice and have more of an ice-mage motif. Their hair has more broad strokes of white and blue frost. They have a constant need to wear gloves and an arctic coat.

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Insanity Raven: They wear an open black cloak/long coat that shows black markings etched into the side of their abdomen and snaking up to their neck made by the overuse of their power. Their hair is longer and they've developed a subtle red glint in their eyes whenever they use their power to steal people into a pocket dimension and condemn them to their fate.

Therapy Raven: They wear moderate dress wear and a blank mask that covers their entire face. They use their power as more of unlimited storage space for items and teleportation platforms than their counterpart. They're generally a lot more cleaned up in appearance on this path.

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Speed demon S: They wear a leather riding jacket decorated with numerous colorful patches, a checkered scarf, and their token riding goggles. They use their power in tandem with Sandrider to create extremely fast dust devils and sand storms to boost their speed.

Troublemaker S: They wear cargo jeans and dusted tank top along with a dark bandana they use to cover their face and neck. Their hair has subtle red and yellow highlights. They use their power to cause persistent sandstorms and locus swarms while keeping a small arsenal of Molotov's and spray paint on hand.

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Royal F: They've obtained a stylish crown and generally dress lavishly in expensive silken black/dark green suits/dresses with floral motifs etched into them. Their power is used to create debilitating toxins and poisons, utilizing the worst of nature for their purposes.

Commoner F: They specialized their archery, and wear a simplistic hemp tunic and archer's cowl interwoven with leaves for camouflage. Their hair is grown out and undone, dotted with the occasional flower or twig. They use their power to create a forest hunting ground along a wide area.

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

As a little bonus, I'll say there's two additional protagonist characters that have yet to be introduced that are also applicable to this time skip change.

One is a Hospian sword user with a samurai motif that has wind-based powers.

The other is a Vestian assassin with a jumping spider motif that uses garrote-like threads

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

Hopefully that helps to give you a little idea of what direction I'm going with these characters! I try to make the evolutions as interesting as possible while still sticking with the general foundation of the character. Some of these evolutions may not really make sense, but keep in mind there's a lot of in between stuff I have planned to make these changes a much more subtle and natural thing haha.

[ninja-scenarios]

Spa day w/ Illumi ✨🐰

I started writing this a month ago so it still says “15th of Christmas” pls bear with me lol

This is part of a Illumi/Hisoka/reader poly relationship! But there won´t be any Hiso in this, sorry! I have another fic planned tho so pls anticipate it :)))

Now I can´t stop imagining Illumi with a bunny ears headband... uwu

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„What is this?“

- „A jelly peeling.“

„And this?“

- „A brush used for applying skin masks, so you don´t have to use your hands.”

You beamed with anticipation. This year, you had decided that it was time to show the boys how to make a couple-advent-calendar. A collection of 24 enjoyable things you could do together. And here it was. The 15th, “spa day”.

Hisoka was out, so you´d grabbed Illumi and dragged him into your study in what had to be the most comfortable kidnapping in history. He actually behaved very well, and you had the slight suspicion that he already enjoyed this.

“First is a headband.”

After you´d both taken a steaming hot bath together and rose from it super relaxed, you slipped a bunny-ear headband onto your boyfriend. Illumi turned to view himself in the make-up mirror. The feeling of something restricting yet comfortable was new to the assassin. The headband wasn´t meant to hurt him or for training, just to hold his hair out of his face. It felt... good. And the light pink went beautifully with his crème bathrobe.

“Look! You look like a bunny now!”

“Is that good?”

“It means you´re very cute and I like it.”

“Ah.”

“My cute little bun bun~”

While Illumi was admiring himself in the mirror, you had to resist the urge to braid his luscious hair, simply gathering it in a ponytail and then taking a seat in front of him.

Illumi´s mind wandered to the rest of the bathroom. You really had taken the time to tidy and clean everything and even decorate. Everything smelled so good! The light-scented candles held a soothing glow and they smelled sweet, as if Illumi just had to stick out his tongue and receive candy. You had placed them on every available surface, creating a big palette of colours that put his mind at ease. The products sitting neat next to them had big beautiful names and colourful packaging. Together with the tasteful instrumental music they made Illumi feel something he didn´t before. A thrill of anticipation.

“We´re starting off with a cleanser.”

Illumi´s watchful unblinking eyes followed every step of the routine. He sat there a little stiffly in a tailor-fashion, yet it reminded you fondly of a watchful cat. Or bunny, in this case. The outfit was so cute on him! It was a pity he wouldn´t let you take a picture.

You started to apply the soap-like foam onto his face with gentle care. Your nails were cut short just for this occasion and the way you worked the product into his skin was light and even. Your touch made him want to flinch, with how light and gentle it was, yet Illumi willed himself to hold still.

When would it start to sting? Illumi anticipated the pain, yet he trusted you. Whatever would happen, whatever would come, he wouldn´t flinch away. Even if you hurt him, he would be able to take it.

“Is this okay?”

“It is.”

You watched Illumi for signs of discomfort, a little concerned since he still wasn´t able to relax. It looked like he was preparing for the worst, even though you had mobilized everything to arrange a relaxing spa day... Ye the longer you brushed over his face, the heavier his eyelids became.

“Do you like it?”

“...”

His eyes closed and he started to relax. His shoulders became heavy, his hands slipped from his thighs into his lap where they loosely intertwined.

“Lumi?”

“Mh.”

Illumi wondered, when was the last time someone had taken care of him that way?

There was a memory from when he was about 3. He had fallen face first into the mud while running. Branches and dirt and pebbles had hurt his skin, yet by this age he had already learned not to cry. Illumi tried to remember. Had he already been numb to pain then?

One of the pebbles had lightly pierced through his cheek, resulting in an ugly wound that started to bruise. His mother had started yelling, fussing over his face and ushering him inside. She´d been angry and Illumi had felt responsible, mentally preparing himself for punishment. But then she had sat him down in her room, in her high chair in front of her vanity and tended to the wound under his eye with maybe the tenderest care he had ever seen in her.

“Illumi? I said do you want to wash your face yourself or do you want me to do it for you?”

You giggled when Illumi´s dark eyes shot back to your face. He had been zoning out for a while, probably lulled in by the soothing patterns on his face. For a second he just stared at you.

At you or at his mother, who had been wearing her hair down, then. Her beautiful locks of hair were black as night, just as his. His mother´s fussing had made him feel important, cared for.

“You do it.”

There was no force between his words. They came out slowly, eyes trained on your face as you smiled. Wordlessly you took a fluffy white washcloth and dipped it into a bowl with warm water.

“Close your eyes.”

You gently took a hold of his chin, just so much so that it would stay in place, as you began cleaning off the product. Illumi´s skin felt different now. Smoother, but dry.

“Next up is exfoliating!”

With far more fun that you´d imagined, you started rubbing the gel peeling into his skin. You had seen an instruction in a youtube tutorial earlier that day. When your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones in a circular pattern, Illumi let his eyes slip shut. You kept working gently on his face, eradicating non-existent little bumps and imperfections on his perfect glass skin. It was probably owed to his perfect diet and frequent intake of water... sometimes you were so jealous of that wonderful bastard.

Meanwhile Illumi thought about the pattern you used for the massage. Half a circle...

´Illumi. Keep up!´

His father had drawn the same pattern on the mat with his bare foot when he drew it back. Illumi hadn´t known then, that he´d done it to gain force and use it to punch his son square in the jaw.

`If you can´t evade my fist, how will you defend yourself against an enemy who attacks from the front? Illumi, they won´t have mercy like me. That is your first lesson.´

It had been the first time his father had openly punched him. Illumi had trembled in pain, holding his cheek with his tiny hand while trying to swallow his sobs.

`I trusted you, papa. I never thought... I never thought you would hurt me.´

Illumi´s eyes shot back open. His hands were gripping both your wrists, thumbs pressing into your palms and tilting them back.

A little gasp escaped Illumi´s mouth. His ears still rang with the blow of his father´s fist. Only after the noise had subsided did he notice.

In the same second he released you immediately. His heart beat wildly in his chest, spurring him on to fight, even though there was no actual danger. Even though you had never done anything to hurt him.

Your hands, they were so gentle, so soothing. They had brought him nothing but joy. There was no doubt in his mind that you were harmless.

“I should leave.”

He didn´t want to see your face, he couldn´t. After all, he had brought you damage. A flaw in a perfect system. Even though Illumi couldn´t decide if the flaw was his self-control or letting you close in the first place.

You went after him, grabbing onto his sleeve in the doorway.

“Illumi, listen to me.”

He didn´t move a muscle. He should go back home. His father would fix him. That was if he could forget you.

“I know it wasn´t the best idea to sit in front of you and repeatedly touch your face while you´re feeling vulnerable. I know you. I know have those patterns.”

Why did you have to say these words? They cut right into his soul with how true you were. It was unbearable yet Illumi couldn´t bring himself to walk away. Why couldn´t he just leave?

“Illumi...I want to walk through them together with you and for us to create new ones. New patterns, new memories, new routines.”

Why had he let a civilian come into his life? The needle he´d grabbed on instinct in his other hand when he´d grabbed you had almost come in contact with your skin. But you hadn´t even noticed.

“Don´t be a fool. I hurt you. It´s like father said. He let me live my own life, knowing I´d make a mistake and realize that there is only one way.”

Slowly, you walked around until you faced him.

“Illumi. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, the black-haired man raised his gaze. His eyes looked wet with frustration.

“You aren´t flawed. You´ve been put in a system where being perfect is unachievable. But look.”

You outstretched your hands, palms up. Upon further inspection, there were no bruises. No marks. Not even a red tint from where he had grabbed your wrists.

“You never hurt me, Illumi. Your grip was so gentle, somehow you must´ve known it was me. You see? There is no flaw.”

You beamed up at him.

“For me, you´re perfect. I love you, Illumi. I wouldn´t want you any other way.”

There was no flaw... he hadn't actually hurt you. Illumi's initial frustration started dripping down his cheeks.

For a long time, he wouldn´t let go.

With the utmost care he wrapped you in a hug, burrowing his face against your hair.

"Thank you. For letting me stay."

[angry-geese]

Risotto Nero x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW towards the end. Pretty vanilla. Lots of fluff. Fem!reader

Notes: Risotto lives au because I am in denial about Vento Aureo's ending. Reader got pregnant around the ending of VA, she escapes the mafia. This takes place six years after the events of VA

sorry for posting so much of this guy but i have rice man brainrot

Lucky was not something you ever considered yourself to be.

Few ever lived long enough to leave. Even fewer managed to stay out of the life long.

Maybe Don Giovanna took pity on you. Or maybe it was just that: luck. 

You were certain of one thing: fleeing Italy was the best thing you'd ever done.

Half of Passione would consider you a traitor. The other half wanted you dead out of spite. Your line of work left a long list of enemies. Those you couldn’t pay off or intimidate, you killed. Tying up loose ends was a gruesome- but necessary- part of the job.

Your family never questioned where you went for all those years. It was an unspoken rule to not mention it. You were considered a dead man the moment you joined. Long ago they stopped expecting their daughter to be alive, waiting for the day Passione would send you back in pieces.

Your daughter was born six months after you arrived home.

Years passed and you slowly realized that hitmen would never come, no strange men ever appeared outside your home, the shadows in the corner of your room were only that: shadows. Your family was safe, or appeared as such.

It felt natural to settle into family life. You took a job working at a local bookstore. Your mother would watch Maria- named after Risotto’s cousin- while you worked. Your father grew old and frail, eventually passing from his age. It was sad but expected, and quickly glossed over by the rest of your life.

She's grown to look quite like him, with her silver hair and skin deepened by the Mediterranean sun. It makes you wonder if she'll grow to be nearly as tall. 

Despite the domesticity of it all, there was a fear that never quite left you. A knife you never slept without, locks you couldn't help but triple check at night, hiding spaces you'd check out of paranoia that someone was there.

You never lied to your daughter about who her father was. Not that you told the entire truth, just the parts a five-year-old could understand: he loves her, but he’s not around anymore.

A knock at the door makes you jump.

Not wanting the sauce for dinner to scald, you leave it. If its anyone important, they’ll come in.

Six years is a long time. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things. But in five- families build, kids go from children to teens leave the bubbles their parents stuck them in. All these life changing events take place.

Risotto can’t deny the anxiety that gnaws at him. Your house vaguely resembles the little Italian villa you two owned. Though that one was long destroyed, burned down when you fled. Seeing the lush garden- planted with all the little flowers you like, with step stones painted rather messily as if done by a child- makes something deep in his chest ache.

One of the last things Risotto expects to open the door is a little girl. A girl that looks a lot like you.

Its as if he’s paralyzed. She’s about five- you would have been pregnant around the time you disappeared. He can’t say he wasn’t warned. Its not that you were ever unfaithful, its just that no matter how many times he’s tried to steel himself for this day, he can’t.

“Papa?”

You were careful when describing him to her. He wasn’t much for photos. At the time neither were you. In Passione you had to be invisible, someone who wouldn’t leave a trace. Discretion was necessary, the only other option was death. Maybe having a child made you sentimental. You wanted more to remember him by than some old clothes and a wedding photo.

Having a child, while not technically against any rules within Passione, was a death sentence. It was one more thing they could hold against you, something they could hurt you with. Risotto’s line of work meant limiting that at all costs if you wanted to live to see the end of the year.

But he’s no longer one of the cogs in Passione’s machine. He’s just a man, and he can love you- the two of you- as such.

He gathers her up in his arms, holding her close. She smells like a perfume you used to wear, he notes. The thought of you being so close makes his heart race.

When you hear the door open, but no one enter, your mind goes to the worst. You rush to the door, kitchen knife in hand. But it’s no hitman sent to tie off a loose end. It’s something that hurts much worse.

Neither of you know how to respond. He’s relatively unchanged, though there’s a noticeable limp when he walks, and his shoulder that now aches when it rains. You’ve grown- gotten used to living as a civilian- but you have not turned soft. He notices a few grays, your scars have faded, smile lines dot at the corners of your mouth. Strong, sturdy, beautiful. All the things his nonna used to call him. It was still you.

"Stay for dinner, please." You cling to his shirt like he’ll disappear again.

He nods, unable to refuse.

Somehow you convince him to stay for a drink. Then another. Somehow you convince him to spend the night. Because after all these years he finds it difficult to leave and now he doesn't want the moment to end.

Risotto grabs hungrily at the fleshy parts of your hips. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, giving him silent permission to continue. He tugs at the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips enough for him to slide them off. Risotto hums approvingly as he realizes you have nothing on underneath. He cages you in his arms, sliding one under your shirt to palm at your breast, working your nipples into stiff peaks. To hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks, you bury your face in his shirt. He sucks at the pulse point in your neck, making you gasp particularly loudly.

He slides a finger up your slit, his large hand coming down to rest on your thigh. Your core throbs at the thought of what he plans on doing to you. You’re not wet- not just yet- but you feel the slick beginning to collect. 

“Stop teasing!” You bury your face further into the crook of his neck.

“I’m just taking my time, amore.”

He brings his other hand down to toy at your clit. To stifle a moan, you nip at his shoulder. Just how he remembered. You jolt as he brushes his thumb across the bundle of nerves, tracing softly along your thigh.

"More, please." You palm at his growing bulge.

"Not yet."

It's hardly enough, but he’d drag this out all night if you’d let him. His other hand traces down your stomach, resting on your thigh. You widen your legs a little further, giving him room to settle between them. He marks your neck- then your stomach- with little nips and bites. After a particularly loud whine, he moves up to nip at your ear, making your entire body shudder.

You're embarrassed, red in the face and needy, pupils blown wide and lips bitten red. His teeth graze across your thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. You card your hands through his hair, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him. He pushes your legs just a bit further apart.

He sucks at your clit, lapping like a housecat. You grind against him, desperate for more friction. You've long stopped caring about the noise you’re making. He licks like a man starved. Aside from your own whimpers and pleading, you hear the huffs of a man who is very content with what he's doing. He's knuckle deep, the lower half of his face shiny with your slick, fingers scissoring inside of you. After a moment he adds a third, rubbing against your g-spot. The stretch stings, but isn't necessarily painful. 

He’s had to stretch you out plenty of times. The man is huge- that applies to more than just his stature. As he begins pumping those fingers in you, you dig your nails into his scalp. The coil in your stomach tightens far sooner than you expected. He grunts when your thighs close around his head, back arched off the bed. 

The coil in your stomach snaps. He lingers for just a moment after, until the overstimulation becomes too much and you push him away. He makes a show of licking his fingers, pulling them from his mouth with a pop.

He settles in next to you, your hips pulled flush to his. You feel something hard press into your thigh.

He’s got six years of lost time to make up, after all, he’s only just getting started.

[maki-matsurra]

Hey, Soul Sister (MatPat and Rosanna Pansino Sibling Relationship Titanic AU) Chapter 1: Protect Her

Chapters:

Chapter 1 (You’re here!)

Chapter 2

Want to send in a request? Start Here!

April 10, 1912

The streets were bustling with people waiting to board, cars honking as they tried to make their way through the large crowd of borders, civilians, and people just waving their family and friends goodbye. A glossy black and white car with gold trim parked and the driver opened the passenger door, holding his hand out, a woman gently placed her hand in it as she stepped out, wearing a long green dress with lace on her sleeves and collar, her long auburn brown hair blowing in the wind as she thanked the man with a smile and turned to look up at the ship, her soft dark brown eyes full of wonder and curiosity, a smile on her face.

A man with slicked-back ash brown hair and green eyes exited the vehicle next, helping her mother and older sister out as he said with a smile; “Your daughter is far too easy to impress, Mia.”

Her mother laughed at that before walking to her daughter's side, her regal red dress with pearl accents making her look elegant while doing so, the older sister followed, looking up to the ship as well. “So this is the ship they say is unsinkable.”

“It is unsinkable. God himself could not sink this ship!”

His voice faded as he turned to talk to one of the staff members of the ship and the ladies walked away, ready to board it, the younger sister’s hand loosely in the arm of the man with slicked-back hair once he caught up with the two.

The ship blew a loud horn that could be heard from miles away, even inside the bar where four men were playing poker. Two of them argued in Swedish while one with black messy hair and dark brown eyes turned to the other man sitting next to him. “Matt, you are crazy. You bet everything we have.”

Matt, a man with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes raised an eyebrow before smirking at his friend. “When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.”

The man just looked at him wearily before the pair looked back at their cards, their poker faces on, the prize?

Two ship tickets.

Matt then looked to his right. “Sven?”

They swapped cards.

Dark brown eyes studied his hand, his brain working a mile a minute as he was formulating his next move. He discarded a card, getting a new one before sighing. “All right, moment of truth. Somebody’s life is about to change.”

He looked at his friend. “Mark?”

Mark looked at him, showing his hand.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Mark repeated him, his face turning into a glare. Matt ignored it to look at the other men. “Olaf?”

He showed his hand. Nothing.

It was all down to two people. “Sven?”

He looked down and breathed in sharply. “Uh-oh… 2 pair.” He looked at his hand and shook his head sadly before looking at his best friend. “I’m sorry, Mark.”

“You’re sorry?! Are you shitting me, you’re sorry-”

“I’m sorry, you’re not gonna see your mom again for a long time.” Matt interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder, making Mark put a look of confusion on his face.

“...’Cause we’re going to America.” Matt smiled and slammed his hand on the table. “Full house, boys!” He whooped in excitement, pounding his fist on the table as Mark laughed and cheered, holding the tickets up like he won the lottery. Matt went to go collect the rest of their winnings, but his white collared shirt was soon grabbed by one of the Swedish men, his eyes widened before he winced, ready for the punch he was about to receive.

But he never got it, as the Swedish man punched his friend instead, letting him go and chuckle a bit before turning and smiling at his best friend. “You doubted my skills?”

“You absolute piece of shit!” Mark joked as they hugged joyfully, Matt cheering; “I’m going home!”

“I’m going to America!”

“No, mate.” The pair stopped as they both looked at the old bartender. “Titanic is going to America, in 5 minutes.” He gestured to the clock behind him as the pair looked at each other.

“Shit, Matt.”

“Come on.”

They started to rush and put all of the winnings in a sack, trying to get every little penny they won.

“We’re riding in high style now!” Matt yelled as they rushed to board the ship. “We’re a couple of regular swells. We’re practically royalty my boy!”

“You see, it’s my destiny! Like I told you, I’m going to America to become a millionaire!”

They dodged a couple of horses as they continued to run, their smiles not wiping off their faces any time soon. “You’re so fucking crazy!” Mark reminded Matt.

“Maybe, but I’ve got the tickets!” He cheered. And just about as the boat was about to leave, the pair rushed up onto the platform and handed in their tickets to the staff member. He looked at them before looking at the pair. “Have you been through the inspection queue?”

“Of course. Anyway, we don’t have any lice. We’re Americans. Both of us.” Matt said, his brain thinking quickly as he finished the sentence, hoping the staff member would take it.

He nodded and said; “Right. Come aboard.”

Matt thanked him and they went, running through the halls, their smiles still plastered on their faces as Mark said; “We’re the luckiest sons of bitches in the world! You know that?”

“G-60,” Matt mumbled as they continued their way through the halls, looking for their cabin, excusing himself from bumping into other people. He soon found the room and opened it, smiling and shaking his roommate's hands. “Matthew Patrick, but call me Matt.” He turned and playfully glared at Mark, who smiled while sitting on the top bunk.

“Who says you get the top bunk, huh?” Matt shoved him, making him laugh.

The man with slicked-back ash brown hair looked around the nicely decorated room with careful green eyes, inspecting everything as he held an empty wine glass in his hand, a bottle of wine in the other.

“This is your private promenade deck, sir. Will you be requiring anything?” The staff member questioned.

“Mmm.” He gestured him away, making the staff member excuse themself as he looked out the window, watching the ocean below.

“This one?” A maid questioned her and the girl in the green dress inside the living room area of their cabin, her older sister walking in to join them. “No, it had a lot of faces in it.”

She soon pulled out what she was looking for with a smile. “This is the one.” It was a painting she acquired, brown eyes sparkling with interest.

“Would you like all of them out, Miss?”

“Yes, please. We need a little color in this room, don’t you think?” She asked, flashing her signature sugary sweet smile.

“God, not those finger paintings again.” The man walked into the living room with a cocky smile, making her smile drop a little, thanking the maid who handed her another painting. “They certainly were a waste of money.”

“The difference between Robert’s taste in art and mine is that I have some.” She mumbled to her maid, who chuckled before the girl turned and put the smaller painting on the plush sofa. “They’re fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something.” She said louder. “There’s truth but no logic.”

“What’s the artist’s name?” The older sister asked.

“Something Picasso…”

“Something Picasso?” Robert rolled his eyes. “He won’t amount to a thing. He won’t trust me. At least they were cheap.” He mumbled, putting the wine down on the table.

“She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history. And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel plates up.” The man with a fancy mustache smiled. Mr. Andrews held his hand up with his own kind smile.

“I may have knocked her together, but… The idea was Mr. Ismay’s.”

They were all sitting in a sun-lit room, having a fancy lunch together as they talked about the building of the Titanic.

“He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is.” Mr. Andrews smiled and knocked on the table as the girl with soft brown eyes and auburn hair smiled at him before returning to her book, reading all about different recipes from all over the world.

“Willed into solid reality.”

Her mother looked at her distastefully and leaned in and said; “You know I don’t like you reading those books, Rosanna.”

Rosanna just looked up from her book, giving her mother a look before returning to her reading, that was until the red book was snatched from her and closed shut by Robert. “She knows.”

Her older sister, Molly, glared at the man as he did that, not liking how he just treated her sister. Robert turned to the waiter; “Hm. We’ll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce.”

He hummed as the waiter continued on, before turning to Rosanna. “You like lamb, right sweet pea?”

Molly soon smirked and asked; “You gonna cut her meat for her too there, Robert?” She chuckled as he looked at her, flabbergasted, she saw Rosanna smile a little, trying to hide her smile as Molly turned and asked; “Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?”

“Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.”

“Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?” Rosanna asked, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you.”

Everyone but Robert, Mr. Ismay and her mother started smiling and chuckling quietly, her mother leaned in and growled. “What’s gotten into you?”

She soon removed her napkin from her lap and said; “Excuse me.” With a kind smile before getting up, grabbing the book that Robert took from her and walking away, hoping to find a quiet place to read.

“I do apologize.” Her mother said, sipping a glass of water.

“She’s a pistol, Robert. Hope you can handle her.” Molly smirked, making him smirk back. “Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won’t I, Molly?”

Matt looked out into the ocean, admiring the beauty of it and how the ocean sparkles by the sunlight, next to Mark and some Irish fellow. “The ship is nice, huh?” “Yeah, it’s an Irish ship.”

“...It’s not an English ship?” “Fuck no, it was built in Ireland.” The man with brown hair and blue eyes looked at him like he grew two heads. “15,000 Irishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. Big Irish hands.”

The trio soon watched as staff members started to walk dogs out onto the deck they were on.

“That’s typical. First-class dogs come down here to take a shite.” The Irish-man sighed. Matt smiled at him and shrugged. “Lets us know where we rank in the scheme of things.”

“Like we could forget?” He questioned before shaking hands with Matt. “I’m Séan McLoughlin, but you can call me Jack.”

“Matthew Patrick, Matt.”

“Mark Fischbach.”

He smiled. “So who’s the lucky wife?” He gestured to Matt’s ring, who smiled at it and said; “Stephanie, I’m on my way home to see her now, she’s…”

His voice faded as he heard some yelling on the first class deck, it was a young looking female, looking sad under some man who was growling at her. Jack turned to see what he was looking at, but then he sighed. “Forget it, Boyo. Can’t do anything about that kind of thing, it just happens…”

He felt like he needed to do something about it, she looked way too sweet to be yelled at like that.

He felt like he needed to protect her.

[tangtownie]

You Should See Me In A Crown - Natasha Romanoff x Dark!Reader Insert (AU)

Author’s Note: So, this is my first time trying to write something dark…

Think it might land in the category of soft!dark, but be warned none the less!

Super nervous about posting this, but I actually ended up really liking this one myself, so hopefully others will as well.

Reader is from the Red Room Academy, just as Natasha, only reader never left them. I took some creative liberties when describing the Red Room Academy, so that it fit my idea better, which is also why this story is marked as an AU.

The Russian nickname for Natasha means ‘darling’, ‘pet’ or ‘beloved’.

I incorporated some lyrics from the song, tell me how many you can find? 🧐

Regarding the timeline, I imagine this would take place after Natasha brought down SHIELD and shortly after Bucky joined the Avengers.

Also, shoutout to @a-little-counter-esperanto for being kind enough to beta this for me and offer some moral support! 🥰

Once again, this is marked dark for a reason! There might be topics that are triggering to certain people, so please be responsible about your media consumption.

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of violence and murder, dark!Reader, messed up “family” relations, weird/sexual obsession with a sister figure.

Word count: 2.252

Song Inspiration: You Should See Me In A Crown by Billie Eilish

I was perfectly concealed, blending in with all the mindless idiots making their way down the street. If this hadn’t been New York, and people actually paid attention to what happened around them, they might have noticed the warning sign that was the concealed weapons on my body. Or my too heavy boots beating down against the concrete. Carefully eyeing the tower, I counted the people moving in and out of the building. “Bite my tongue, bide my time.” I mumbled quietly, catching the attention of a passerby. We had in fact been biding our time, monitoring the tower for months, counting the number of armed guards on site at any given time. However, it seemed that these soft Americans had their most precious protectors under lock and key at all times. Biting my tongue, I tried not to scoff. One would assume that the Avengers were more than capable of handling themselves, but apparently their employer did not.

Not that it mattered, the more people in the tower, the more people there were for my sisters to play with. My sisters who were all watching me, waiting for my signal. Finally, we had found our missing piece and none of us were leaving here without her. I had been searching for her for years, using the Academy’s missions to get intel on my long lost sister. In time, Mother had found out and I had been forced to deal with that. Fortunately, it was nothing a little thallium poisoning couldn’t handle for me. One less complication and Mother would never get between us again. No one would. Catching the rays of the sun on the edge of my watch, I slowly rolled my wrist, the light reflecting up on a window in a perfect circle. “Wearing a warning sign.” I didn’t know where my sisters were located, but I knew they had all seen my signal. I moved swiftly through the masses, discarding my disguise along the way, and quickly found myself standing in front of the tower.

The first window shattered, as I opened the door, a flurry of bullets following the first one. Civilians were screaming: scrambling to get away, guards were rushing in from all sides: barking commands rushing through their radios and glass continued flying through the air as my sisters blew the lobby to pieces. A few stray pieces of glass tangled in my hair, light reflecting off of them as I moved gracefully through the chaotic scene, while the bloodcurdling screams piercing the air sounded almost like a symphony. Humming quietly to myself, I pulled my gun from the holster on my hip and aimed carelessly before shooting a guard in the face.

The bullet lodged in his eye and he fell to his knees, screaming. His body spasmed out of his control and with a final gurgling scream, he fell limply to the floor. “I love the way they scream.” I really didn’t need to kill him to swipe his ID, but alas why should my sisters have all the fun? After all, I was the one running this mission. The glass crunched underneath my boots and blood splattered all over me whenever my sisters killed the ones that got too close to me.

Making it to the elevator was easy: the guards and civilians continuously dropping all around me. Once inside of the elevator, I pressed R for residential. Wiping some blood from my cheek, I caught a whiff of gunpowder on my dark glove and I inhaled again, greedily, as pure joy filtered through my system. Raising my head to look at my reflection, I was met with a dazzling vision wrapped in all black. I could see the bumps from my arsenal of knives and guns strapped to my thighs, hips and arms. My hair was tied back tightly, the glass shards framing my head like a crown, and blood smeared across my face. “You are so pretty.”

The elevator dinged as it reached the residential floor. Unlike the others, this was ominously silent. By now the precious protectors would now that I had come looking for them. Or rather her. I had come for her and I would die before leaving without her. “Natalia?” I called out for her teasingly. “I know you’re here, любимый." I was met only with silence. Humming quietly to myself again, I fished a knife out of my holster and jammed it into the keypad of the elevator. The keypad sputtered and sparked before I pulled the knife back out, leaving it hanging down the side of the wall.

Flipping the knife carelessly, I scraped it against the wall, as I started moving down the hallway. “Our sisters are so looking forward to seeing you again, sweet Natalia.” I was almost reunited with her and joy filled my voice as well as my body. A flash of movement caught my eye and I turned just in time to see someone charging at me. A quick sidestep and he flew past me. He was tall, broad and dark. Every inch of him wrapped in black leather. His gaze was burning with fury, when he turned to look at me.

“Soldat,” I cocked my head in recognition, a smirk curling around my lips. “I see you’ve betrayed the cause as well.” The burly soldier snarled at me in response and a bubbling laughter rose from my throat. “Poor little Soldat, still have the manners of a raging beast, I see.” The deranged soldier lunged at me again, and it took all of my power to block his fist. The metallic whirring getting louder and louder the more weight he put into it. Grunting with effort, I could feel his arm slipping through mine and his fist met my face with full force. My entire body was slammed backwards into the wall and it felt as though my brain was vibrating from the hit. For a second everything went dark, but the taunting scoff from Soldat ripped me back to reality instantaneously.

Pushing myself from the wall, I growled back at him. To think that my dear sister had been trapped here with these abominations of nature for so long… But no matter, we were here for her now and we would take her away. I simply needed to put down this caged animal in front of me, and we could be on our way. “Watch me make ‘em bow.” Anger flashed in the eyes of the beast as I spoke and he charged again: his metal hand shooting out and wrapping around my throat. His eyes burning while he tightened his grip until all that could escape me were choked off gasps.

I fumbled for the needle in my pocket. I knew it contained just enough sedative to take down a deranged super soldier and while I had anticipated using it on a certain overeager Captain, this seemed like an appropriate use. When I finally grasped the needle, I plunged it into the side of Soldat’s neck. The drug took effect immediately: the beast’s eyes drooping and his ironclad grip on my throat loosening. As my feet touched the floor again, his hand slipped from my throat and he landed with a loud thump. I wasn’t certain how long it would keep him down, so for good measure I grasped one of my knifes and plunged it into him: his stomach, chest and shoulder before I sliced along the inside of his arm.

Loosing my patience, I started down the hallway again. I had to find her and save her. How could Mother ever have thought that Natalia was safe here? Kicking down every door I met, I eventually found her room. The soft scent of jasmine and lemongrass wafted over me and I couldn’t resist the temptation to go in. “You smell so sweet.” My fingers softly grazed over her walls as I moved inside and let the smell of my dear sister take over my senses. Her room was warm and inviting with throw blankets and pillows everywhere and I knew that I had been right. This—she—was exactly what our sisters needed, a comforting and warm presence.

Natalia’s bedroom was immaculate as always, not a single item out of place. Stopping at her dresser, I needed to feel close to her. I tore open a drawer and pulled out a sweater. The material was much softer and smoother than anything I owned and I burrowed my face in it, so that I could really smell her. A sense of calm washed over me and I let myself fall backwards onto her bed, so that I could be surrounded by her scent. My sweet Natalia, how I had missed her. “I fell for those ocean eyes.”

There was nothing I hadn’t missed about her: her eyes that would sparkle like the stars on a bright and cold night. Her deep, soothing drawl. Her soft and luscious hair that I could almost feel running through my fingers. All of it making up the resilient, courageous and ruthless warrior that I had loved for as long as I could remember. My sweet, dear sister. We would be together again soon and then nothing could tear us apart ever again. A sudden sound snapped me back to attention and I quickly got off the bed, hiding beside the doorframe to her bedroom. The steps were careful and calculated, yet soft. A smiled curved over my lips as I recognized them.

“Natalia, любимый, I’ve been looking for you.” Her steps froze at the sound of my voice. I slowly emerged from my hiding spot with the smile still on my lips. Natalia had never looked quite as beautiful as she did with her gun pointed at me. “Oh, любимый, I’m not here to hurt you.” Natalia’s stance wavered just a little and I was elated to see her giving in to me. “I’m here to help you escape, sweet sister.” Confusion washed over Natalia’s face and I smirked as I was reminded that she had always been one of our more simple-minded sisters.

“Mother fell ill.” I explained it simply to her. My darling, simple sister did not need to know all the gory details of what I’d done to find her. “And some of our weaker sisters were flailing without a strong leader, so… I stepped in.” An emotion I didn’t quite recognize flashed over Natalia’s face and she lowered her gun a little. “But as you know, любимый, I’m not exactly a nurturing person and while I see no use of such foolish sentimentality, some of our sisters have requested that you re-join us.” I watched her closely, as I finished my sentence. “We are going to run that place together. That, and any other place you want, my sweet love.” Anger flashed in Natalia’s eyes and her gun was back in my face instantaneously.

I didn’t let her reaction deter me, though. I loved her and I knew that she loved me too. I gently placed my hand on her cheek and dragged her closer to me. “I cannot do this without you, sister. I cannot live with you… Do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching for you?” I placed my other hand on top of her gun and pushed it down until it was pointed at my chest. “If you won’t let me help you, then you’ll have to kill me, любимый.” Natalia’s eyes widened and jumped back and forth, from my face down to my chest. “Tell me, sweet sister. Which do you imagine is worse? Living without you or dying first?” I gently brought my hand up to her other cheek and pulled her closer to me, until our foreheads were resting on one another.

“любимый, my love, don’t resist me.” I whispered the last words before crashing my lips onto hers. The feel of her soft, full lips against mine was even better than I had dreamt. I gasped ecstatically into her mouth and let my hands slide into her hair. I tightened my grip on her hair, when she tried to pull away. She could breathe when I let her. Until then, I would kiss her as long as I pleased. A tear slid down her cheek and I understood. She had finally accepted that we were supposed to be together and that we would rule alongside each other. “You will be the most perfect Mother, любимый.” I whispered against her lips.

Suddenly, a burning feeling spread through my chest and I could hardly breathe. “любимый, do you feel it, too?” I gasped. “We are finally becoming one.” Each syllable hurt more than the last and I barely registered Natalia’s gun clattering to the floor. Something warm ran down my chest and my legs almost collapsed under me. I clung to Natalia and she fell to the floor with me. She wrapped her arms around me and I was in heaven. “You are so beautiful, sweet Natalia.” Even as my vision blurred and I could feel the pull of a deep, dark sleep, I could not pry my eyes away from her. “Sister, I feel so tired…” My voice was cracking from all the effort it took me to speak, but she was here. My true love, my dear sister. I had finally found her again. “Sleep, sister. Everything will be alright.” My sweet Natalia’s voice was the last thing I heard before the darkness took me.

Okay, so Tumblr was acting all crazy when I was making this post, so hopefully, it'll work! 😬

Also, as always, would love feedback in any form! Comment, reblog, messages! It doesn't matter. ❤️

[nerdycanible1]

The Healing Plant.

This is a story of Kya's and Lin's past. Of who gave Kya her betrothal necklace and why Lin has issues. This is my own little story so of course I will not have the facts lol. Also please be warned as this has some explicit content of fire and burns. Along with death. Please don't read if you are sensitive to such things. Please enjoy.

All art is mine.

Lin squeezed her pillow as a tear glided down her cheek. "Her last breath will always haunt my dreams. The echoes of her breath bounce around in my head and I cannot rid of it." Her lip trembled. "How can you forgive me?" She whispered. "I lost the only person dear to you." She whimpered. "I failed you."

Kya looked at Lin with a wince as her heart was still numb. Losing her wife only a few days ago didn't make her feel right. Her hand clenched as the water near them began to freeze. The betrothal necklace around her neck felt as if a million pounds of anvils were on her chest. Lin couldn't save her. Lin couldn't save the only person she has ever cared about. The only soul mate.

Lin was wrapped in bandages as her burn wounds was still raw, tender and still needed a lot of healing. Her hair was disheveled as tears glided down her face, her eyes puffy. Why does she get to cry? Not like she's the one that lost a lover.

"You did fail." Kya says barely above a whisper, clenching her fists. The bright smile Zhi always seemed to save for her. the tender kisses and the affectionate laugh that always made her join in. "How can you let her get hurt?!"

Lin flinched and whimpered. She began to push herself up and winced. "Kya let me explain what h-"

"No!!! Zhi Ruo is gone because of you!! You let her get hurt... you let her die! You let my wife die!!" Lin sniffled and covered her face ashamed. "I thought you were a protector of civilians. Of everyone." The water in the pans, bowls and cups trembled as Kya was getting more and more angry. Her grief getting the best of her.

Lin had no idea Zhi was Kya's wife. She didn't know. She tried to save her but instead she let the woman get killed. Be my wife Kya. I'll always be there for you.

Kya growled as she raised the water above her head ready to hurt Lin. Lin squeezed her eyes shut ready to for the pain but it never came. Instead she felt the ice water plop onto her as she saw Kya's retreating form leave the room.

[11 Years Later]

Lin sat in her apartment drinking her bitter coffee. it was already 3 in the morning and Lin was wearing her tank top. Tenzin breaking up with her after 13 years and Kya never seeing her was a harsh world to be in. Lin was a bitter woman, being the age of 39 and no suiters was not a way to go. Her finger subconsciously running over her burned flesh. The scars were permanent and she still felt the death of Zhi pretty hard. Kya still hasn't forgiven her and it only dawned to her that she may never see the woman again.

She was just finishing her last cup of the night before there was a tentative knock on her front door. She frowned as she looked up at the clock and saw that it was 3:47 am. She stood up with a sigh and stomped her way to the door and opened it up. "What do you wa-" Her words dying in her throat when seeing the waterbender. Lin went rigid when she heard the others words bounce in her head. Your fault! Your FAULT. Kya looked up at Lin with a smile but only furrowed her brows seeing the bad fire wounds on Lin and the look upon her face. "Lin, spirits you chan-"

Lin let out a strained sob and slammed the door in front of her, leaving the waterbender on her porch. Lin stumbled back and her hands trembled as her arm began to burn. "Lin are you okay? Linnie?"

Lin held onto her arm and cursed under her breath. The hurried knocks from Kya was agitating her along with her arm. Her heart ached at the memory. She wanted to explain herself to Kya about the whole situation but all she got was the sad stares from the family. Kya had packed up in the middle of the night and no one knew where she went. Lin growled and walked to the door. She stood up and held her chest up and swung the door open. Kya almost fell forward but began to gather her balance. "Lin-" she breathed in relief but Lin crossed her arms over her chest.

"What is it?" She snapped. Kya flinched hearing the harshness of the of Lin's words. The last time they talked, Lin was goofy and had kinder words. Kya frowned as she gulped and looked at her. "Can I com-"

"No you may not. State your business so I can head to bed. I have a early shift in the morning. Now what is it?"

Kya frowned and looked up at the other as her brows furrowed. "We need to talk. I thought you'd want to see me after I came back." Her heart ached. Just what had happened to her best friend. Lin always had time for her.

"Came back?" She barked. "How long ago was it you were gone? How many letters did you write? How many years?" Lin glared down at the woman and kept her arm from view the best she could. The burn mark was from the mid of her forearm all the up to the mid way of her neck. I burned part of her back and her stomach.

Kya felt her brows draw down as her eyes watered. "I would have... I thought we were over this. Lin that was, I was still a k-"

"Save it. I don't need your words of pity. If there's nothing else then let me head back to sleep." How can I get over it when your words haunt my dreams. The tears and the hate in your eyes. "Lin wa-" Lin didn't give her another chance as she slammed the door in her face.

{TIME SKIP}

It was a few days later before Lin was heading to the island to talk to Katara and Aang. The kids and her may have gotten on the wrong foot but that doesn't mean her and her aunty and uncle were on the bad foot. And she also promised to help them build a new set of stairs to help be easier to go up to the temple. She also wanted to catch up with Bumi till he was deployed again. The two were an unlikely pair but they became really close and were practically best friends.

Once Lin arrived she was greeted by the same acolytes that always greet her. She began to make her way up the make shift stairs and jog up them as she wanted to greet Katara before she got to work. Once she made it to the house she opened the door and ran right into the Waterbender. Lin grunted as she stumbled back and she looked up and was ready to apologize to Katara for running into her until she saw who it was and she stayed quiet. Kya and her were in a stare down before an arm hooked around her shoulders and she was pulled into Bumi's side. Lin groaned as she began to pull herself away from Bumi. "BUMI!!!" She growled as he would chuckle and hold her in his arms.

Kya frowned seeing the two act so familiar to each other. Lin wasn't like that with her. Lin punched him in the gut and he huffed and bent forward with a obnoxious laugh. "Your punch is the same." He grunted.

Lin chuckled and stood there watching as Bumi tried to regain his breath.

Lin chuckled tapped the others shoulder. "As much as I like beating you up Bumi I wanna say hi to your mother." Bumi smiled at Lin and followed after her as if he hadn't got his guts mushed. "Mom made some apple tarts and breakfast."

Lin could feel the others icy glare though she ignored it. She didn't want to talk to her. Her burn was irritating her again, it seemed to always burn around the bad memories and now Kya. Lin was wearing a long sleeved shirt that was a little too hot to wear during the summer but it looked as if it didn't bother Lin.

Once inside Lin greeted her uncle and aunty and hugged them both, though it be a one sided hug it didn't mean any less than love.

Lin listened to them talk while Bumi hung back with Kya. "What's wrong with the both of you? Lin used to always greet you first?" He looked down at his little sister and Kya rolled her eyes.

"Things change Bumi. It's been years since the last we saw each other." Kya muttered as she looked at the police chief. Lin laughed with them and stole a apple tart. Lin always loved sweets and always was spoiled whenever she came over.

"Can you get me some water Lin, I wanna make some tea to go with this." Katara said holding a bowl out to her. Lin smiled and finished swallowing her food before she grabbed the bowl.

"Of course." She began to walk out of the house and Katara made sure the other left the door before Katara threw a spoon at Kya, hitting her squarely on the forehead.

"You were supposed to talk to Lin last night!!" She grumbled. She began to walk towards her. "Why didn't you two talk?!"

Bumi started laughing loudly and holding his stomach as he did so. Kya rubbed her forehead and pouted towards her mother. "Mom let me explain. She slammed the door in my face." Katara glared at her and placed her hands on her hips.

"That shouldn't stop you. You're a master waterbender and you let a door stop you? When I was your age-no younger than you I sliced through a wooden cage with only my sweat. And you let a door stop you." Katara shook her head and went back to cooking. "Now go out there and set it straight." Aang gave his daughter a sympathetic look.

Kya chewed the inside if her cheek before she sighed and walked outside. Leaving Bumi's boisterous laugh inside and went to the well.

Lin grunted as she looked down in the well saw the water. She frowned as she saw the bucket down in the water without the rope tied around it. With a heavy sigh Lin began to crawl inside the well and braced herself against the wall. She began to slowly make her way down into the dark well. "Lin? Lin?" Kya began to look around for the woman and frowned not seeing her. Lin had just grabbed the bucket while she was trying to keep her balance against the wells walls.

With one last look around her grabbed a bucket and used her bending to bring water out of the well. A yelp left the well as Lin got soaked in the ice water and a loud splash was heard as Lin fell into the water. The Well wall wasn't structured properly and the rocks were loose.

Kya dropped the water and ran to the well seeing Lin at the bottom. Lin was floating in the water and Lin was glaring daggers at Kya. "Spirits Lin. You ok-"

Lin grunted and grabbed the wall of the well before she began to earthbend her wait up. Her clothes were all soaked. "Here let me help y-"

Lin swatted her hands away as she crawled out of the well with a huff and stood there letting the water drip off of her. "I'm fine." She knew it was her fault but that didn't mean she wasn't mad. With a heavy sigh, Lin unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off. Lin was wearing nothing but the wraps around her chest. Lin was muttering sweet words under her breath as she began to take her shoes off.

Kya's eyes raked over her body and brows furrowed. She had no idea how Lin could stand the scars. It must have hurt her so badly. Her fingers subconsciously ran over the wrinkled scars. Lin tensed and went rigid, her body had froze and trembled.

"Zhi!! This is no time for you to act like a hero!! Kya can care for herself!" Lin grasped her arm and began to pull her out of the temple. The smoke was building up in the room, the logs blazing with fire were coming down.

It was only supposed to be a damn house fire but the team got split up and were each ambushed and attacked. Zhi fought against Lin's grip and shoved Lin away. "Shes in trouble! I can feel it!" Lin growled as she grabbed her hand again but Zhi slapped Lin across the face and pointed upwards. Kya was being choked while the man was ready to stab her.

With the burning, stinging sensation on her cheek Lin was ready to slap the other.

The smoke was filling Lin's lungs and she could barely breath. With a quick flick of her arm a rock flew towards the man. Lin didn't see the non bender run off and she continued to distract him from the first floor.

A scream rang in her ears and just like in slow motion she saw the pillar give way and was slowly falling to the ground. Her heart ached as she had to make a hard decision. She knew Kya can care for herself and a second later Lin was using her metal from her suit to hold the pillar up along with her right arm. It felt as if hot boiling, blistering water was being poured on the right side of her body.

A blood curdling scream left Lin's lips as she held the pillar up. She soon saw Zhi under her. The woman looked as white as a ghost but she was still breathing. But what wasn't right was the blood pooling around her. Her breath was shallow and had a small wheeze to it.

Part of the pillar was broken and stabbed the other in the stomach. Even if she did manage to get out from under the wood, the burn Mark's and huge hole in her stomach wouldn't let her live.

Tears filled her eyes as she was losing a friend and there was nothing she could do. With the fire on her skin, cooking her alive she felt as if she was gonna pass out at any given moment.

She clenched her jaw, her breathing getting shallower and shallower. Lin took a deep breath and she clenched her jaw. With all her remaining strength she pushed herself to her feet and lifted the pillar as high as she could. She needed to get her out of here. She couldnt burn in here. With another growl she threw the pillow behind her and lifted the woman in her arms. Her skin felt as if it was melting away.

Shakey, jello-y legs began to carry the woman out. Tears gliding down her cheeks as she could see the light of the door way. The body in her arms slowly getting colder and colder. Her heart barely beating.

"Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive." Lin chanted over and over. "Stay awake." Her sight was growing dimmer and dimmer.

"Tell... Kya I love her." She wheezed. Lin had laid the other a good few feet away from the collapsing house. She smiled and brought her hand up to her cheek. Tears filled her eyes as she stared into Lin's eyes. "Take care of her."

Lin shook her head and clenched onto her hand with trembling fingers. Her hand couldn't even give her strength. "Y-You have to do that. Please. Z-Zhi... please."

Zhi gave her a lightlsmile and caressed her cheek but her strength gave out and her hand dropped. Her head began to lean to the side and her breathing was all she heard. Lin held her hand and stroked it. She couldn't heal her. The least she could do was be there in her last moments. With one last ragged, deep breath she was gone. Lin squeezed her hand as she was losing her best friend. Her tears dropping on her arm.

Lin smacked her hand away and glared at her. "Don't touch me." She didn't yell it, she didn't squeeze her hand. She didn't do anything except utter the words.

But Kya felt all the emotions hit her hard. Feeling her aura felt as if she were in the saddest place on the world. Kya stumbled back and tears filled her eyes.

Lin stared at the other and watched her step back. Her hand pressed against her forearm, feeling the ugly burn marks. "What happened? I-It couldn't have been that bad." Kya breathed as she seemed to have regained herself.

Lin felt her lip raise to a scowl and she grasped the other by the front of her dress and pulled her close. She stared up into her eyes, not even caring for the obvious height difference. "Not that bad? NOT THAT BAD?!" Lin growled as she felt her grip tighten, her fingers going white, the joints in her fingers screamed under the pressure.

"Maybe if you didn't run off in the middle of the night then you would have known what actually happened." She barked. She began to walk forward and Kya took and alternating one back.

"L-Lin."she grimaced as she was shoved back. The little push wouldn't have hurt but the strong fingers of Lin Beifong was no joke. "I was just a kid. I-I just had lost my wife. I-I was hurting." Kya defended herself.

Lin's eyes blazed, the ground beneath them trembled. "Just a kid?" She clenched her jaw and glared at her. "I was a kid too!" She growled. "She was my best friend!" She snapped. The rumble of the Beifong's anger made the stone split. "I... I watched her die." The rumbling suddenly stopped and the broken Beifong stood there. "We were friends before you were her wife." She whispered. "I knew her before you."

Lin took a deep breath and finally looked into her eyes. "It was my fault she died I know t-that." Her voice cracked and she ran a hand over her scars, her nails digging into the scar. The sight made Kya wince.

"I just.... the pillar fell... I ran as fast, as I could." She felt the tear run down her cheek. "She loved you." She whispered. Lin's heart ached as she hung her head and hid her pained face. "She said... she loved you... I-I." She gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. But not me. She didn't... she didnt love me. "How can I let her die. I held the pillar... I made sure it didn't crush her..."

Lin's gut twisted and she turned and looked out to the waterview. "Her last breath hangs in my head, her bright amber eyes are forever burned in my mind."

"Lin I'm so sorry." Kya whispered. She walked over to the other but Lin stepped back. "Lin." She grabbed her by the hand and Lin took a shuttering breath.

"Zhi died. The pillar I held up was on fire, the fire burned so badly and I couldn't even hold it up." Lin looked up at Kya with furrowed brows. "I've never seen someone hate me so much." She gulped and gripped her hand. "For the first time in my life, I saw someone hate me so much you were willing to kill me."

Kya opened her mouth the say something but Lin shut her up with a look. She didn't want Kya to speak. Not at all.

"I know I should've protected her but... it hurt so much." She looked into Kya's eyes and her brows twitched together every now and then. "Why did you blame me for her death?" She whispered. "She was a grown woman and... and she made her own decisions." She glared at Kya before she sighed and just let her emotions fall into a numb impassive face.

"I'm tired of this Kya." She stepped back and rubbed her shoulder. Kya grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't think my words would hurt you this bad." She closed her eyes and pulled her in close. "I'm so sorry."

All Lin could do was stand there. She made no move to hug her back, her mind wondered back to the temple. Every night she relived the same dream. With the smell of burnt hair, the smell of flesh and the small hint of blood.

The smell never left Lin's nose, she always smelled and tasted the fire.

[muzzlefireyan]

Chapter 3 of Dimas and Agapito

Sorry about the wait folks I got caught up in personal stuff. Agapito belongs to our favorite writer, @yandereaffections Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the slightly longer chapter

Tw for gun violence, medical procedures and injury (non-graphic), and possessive behavior

Another few weeks of working as Agapito’s personal bodyguard and we’ve fallen into a bit of a routine. Less peaceful than the warehouse but I haven’t had a lot of close calls. Agapito texts me, on a burner phone of course, that I should come more prepared today. And earlier. Which means all my merc gear. I gotta wonder what we’re doing today as I only get to wear this once in a blue moon now. Probably intimidation shit.

Agapito’s started picking me up from my apartment building to avoid drawing attention to the now abandoned warehouse. He’s chatting and flirting away as usual and he lets me know we’re headed to the docks to oversee a minor shipment. I just have to stand behind him and look scary. Easy enough I guess.

We make our way through the dawn lit streets. The blue light of the morning catches on his hair and I think it looks nice. He parks and we amble through the towers of brightly colored shipping containers and cranes, quiet now when civilians could hear us.

We reach a rather secluded spot that’s hidden in the early morning light and see men unloading crates from a small freighter. Agapito walks towards someone who’s supervising and asks about times, weights, and shit I don’t care about. The hair is already prickling on the back of my neck when the first shot rings out.

I take one hand off my gun to shove Agapito down and behind a crate. I step on his sleeve and jacket collar so he stays down then I’m aiming to where the sound came from. All hell breaks loose and two more shots cause one of our men to fall. I see the outline of someone behind a container and pop off three shots as Agapitos men draw weapons and move forward. Bullets fly and I duck back behind the crate. Agapito has been swearing underneath me but he’d have to push me off to get free, dangerous when I’m holding a weapon. I get off him and pull him inland.

I can tell he’s shouting something, probably to get my ass off him but the shots kinda took out my hearing for now. A bullet cracks the concrete in front of us and I bundle him into my chest, protecting his body with my armored one. I get hit in the back twice which I can tell is gonna leave a hell of a mark. Luckily nothing unguarded is hit. I pull him into a gap between two containers and we both duck around the corner and start shooting. In between shots he’s glaring at me.

He gets pushy sometimes when I actually have to do my job and protect him.

When we’re clear I drag him off again. He shakes off my hands but sticks close to me. I know I’m going to get chewed out for manhandling him but he’s very stupid and I’m wearing armor.

One straggler is following us and we weave to avoid him. I turned back to fire over my shoulder and hit him in the chest. Unfortunately he’s wearing a vest. All I do is push him back a few steps. It's enough though and we make it back to the truck. I shove Agapito to the driver's side and cover him best I can. The man pursuing us fires two more shots before I nail him in the head. Unfortunately one of those shots rips through my arm, just missing where I’m protected.

Adrenaline keeps me from stopping and I’m jumping in the passenger side and we take off. Agapito is breathing heavy and his pupils are all blown wide. “You hurt?” I ask between my own pants.

“No, you?,” he replies, voice jittery from the rush.

“Not really, just a bit bruised and a little scrape.”

He sits there and thinks for a minute, hands tapping on the wheel.

“Alright what the hell was that?” He snaps finally. “Do you understand how hurt you could’ve gotten! You could’ve died! And instead of protecting yourself, you tossed me, your ally, to the ground. I could’ve protected you! I’m supposed to keep you safe! You could’ve..” He trails off. I kinda tuned him out as I’m eyeing the speedometer. It’s ticking slowly up.

“Right, Agapito. We just got out of a gunfight. Lower the speed. We do not need to be pulled over right now. You have to call someone to clean it up. Do that. Take us to wherever you’re going, and we’ll sort it out there.” The speedometer ticks back down and we take a slightly less sharp left. Which is good because my adrenaline is leaving fast and my arm really fucking hurts. Good thing I’m wearing black because I think Agapito would flip the fuck out if he say the blood right now. He doesn’t strike me as one with many close friends. Must be why he’s acting like this. Poor guy. He’s on the phone now, boss voice back as he gives sharp orders.

We drive slowly through a residential neighborhood, deep in contrast with our bloody clothes and weapons. He finally clicks off the call after we sit idling in the driveway. He opens the garage and we pull in. It’s completely empty as has the dank smell of somewhere not very well used. I silently pull myself out of the car as Agapito fucks with the plates.

“Keys?,” I ask. He tosses them to me without a word and I open the door. He follows me and shoves me into the large tan couch in the center of the living room.

“Alright,” he says, hands on his hips,”this is a safe house, we’ll be staying for a few days, only me and one other person knows where it is. We are going to eat, change, and shower. Not in that order. We are go- oh my god.” I look around for the threat, cautious of my arm…my arm..which is bleeding on the couch.

“Aw shit man I’ll pay for the cleaning-“

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CLEANING!” He exploded at me. He ripped his phone out of his pocket and aggressively dialed a number. It got picked up in two rings. “My personal guard is injured, come immediately.” He hung up just as abruptly. I assumed that was his medic who probably needed more information but I didn’t want to say anything as Agapito looked as though he was about to implode.

“You said you weren’t hurt.” He said quietly.

“I said I got scraped,” I corrected mildly. “C’mere,” I patted the couch next to me invitingly with my good arm. He slowly sat down. “I’m alive, I’m okay, I’m armored and the only way I would’ve died is if they threw a fuckin bomb at me. I’m okay. You were out there wearing a leather jacket and a tank top in a gunfight holding a handgun. It is my job to protect you. I’m being paid to do so therefore I am not going to sit back and let you do all the work. Now, why don’t we find some clean clothes. I’m going to need help getting out of this shit and you’re about to go fucking feral and kill the medic if you don’t calm down. That will help no one. Deep breaths.” He slowly started to relax. I took his hand and set it on my chest and made exaggerated deep breaths. He followed them and I’ll be honest it helped with the pain a bit. We both jumped at the knock on the door.

Agapito pressed his hand into my chest for emphasis. “Stay here,” he practically growled at me. He picked up his gun from where I left mine on the table (Hey, when did I do that) and made his way to the door. I couldn’t see what was happening but I heard a gruff greeting and footsteps coming inside before a stout man in a coat and nice clothes carrying a large pack stopped in front of me. Agapito loomed threatenly over my shoulder.

The man quietly asks where I’m injured and he and Agapito unclip my armor. Whenever I try to help Agapito bats my hands away so I just give up and let him be weird. When the doctor cuts away my sleeve Agapitos breath catches.

“A scrape.” He says angrily. “That’s not even a graze. You’re lucky that it didn't hit the artery.” The medic stops until he shuts up and goes back to work. He goes back to the car to get a whole IV pole and other various implements. Agapito asks what he’s doing whenever he takes something new out of his bag. Eventually I’m directed to move onto the dining table, Agapito like a very stubborn crutch under one arm. The medic sets a catheter into my good hand and carefully injects a clear fluid into it. As he explained to Agapito 5 seconds ago, it's a general anesthetic because he has to stitch up the muscle and a punctured blood vessel within the wound. I count maybe 2 seconds before I’m out like a light.

When I come to I’m laying back on the couch in just my compat pants, socks, and undershirt. The medic is gone and Agapito is snoring next to me, propped up on the couch. The moment I actually start stirring he bolts upright.

“Dimas? You’re awake?”

In response I say a very intelligent “ghjg mma nmga.”

“You’re gonna be a bit loopy for a bit okay? You got pretty strong meds.” He says soothingly as he props me up on pillows. A whole sleeve is gone from my shirt and my heavily bandaged arm is in a sling.

“The doc is gonna be back to check on you in” he checks his watch,”two hours. I made some soup for you that you have to eat. And if you feel nauseous you have to tell me. Or like, signal or something.”

I am not even remotely paying attention to what he’s saying. He realizes this and gets soup and carefully hand feeds me. I would be very pissed about this if lucid but I am not. I attempt to tell him so but my words are still slurred and garbled. He sits with me the rest of the night. When the doctor comes to readminister the pain meds and help me change my clothes and bandages, Agapito helps and listens to the instructions given with rapt attention. Lucky for me, the catheter was removed and I didn’t even need a full drip.

Agapito helps me into one of the rooms and sleeps next to me, hand on his gun. It’s the most shaken I’ve seen him, and if I didn’t think he desperately needed the closeness, I’d be uncomfortable. Nonetheless he takes care of me until we both fall asleep.

Thanks for reading folks and hopefully I’ll upload the next chapter at a reasonable time lmao. We’ll see

[oreoambitions]

It's been almost a week since Sam came to National City to ask for Kara's help, but it's been only two days since The Talk.

It was Lena who approached Supergirl first, who asked for a meeting at L-Corp and then struggled to break the news. She ordered them iced coffees and they sat awkwardly on opposite sides of her desk, Lena struggling uncharacteristically to find the right words, and Supergirl trying not to think about all the times she's been in this office as Kara, Just Kara, and how much it chafes to continue the charade.

"I lied about the test results," Lena said at last. "It was- I'm sorry. It was very important to Sam. She wanted to protect Ruby, and-"

"Sam's Kryptonian," Supergirl whispered. It felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place. "Even without Reign."

"Yes."

"And Ruby..."

"Half Krpytonian. Yes. But it's Sam I wanted to talk to you about. I know the two of you have a history-"

Supergirl waved her hand, as if she could have dismissed Reign with a simple gesture. "That wasn't Sam," she said, and she meant it. "But that was months ago. Why tell me now?"

Lena gazed into her coffee, and then out the window at National City, and Supergirl waited for the inevitable request to come. She waited and waited and just when she thought she might have to break the silence herself, Lena spoke. "She's having a hard time controlling her powers, and we didn't know who else to go to. Will you help her?"

As if Supergirl could ever have said no.

It was Alex who came to Kara as Kara, who showed up at her apartment door the next evening with a bag of bribery potstickers and an anxious frown.

"Sam..." she began.

"I know." Kara set plates out on the bar and avoided meeting Alex's eyes. "Lena told me yesterday. Well, she told Supergirl."

"Oh."

There was a comfortable quiet between them for a few minutes as food was served and beer bottles were opened and only when Kara was settled comfortably on her stool did Alex start to talk.

"We stayed in touch after she left National City. And I had my doubts, but Lena said she was human and she didn't seem to want to talk about it, so I left it alone. But then a couple of weeks ago-"

"You've known about this for weeks?" Kara actually put a potsticker down out of sheer incredulity. "And you didn't tell me?"

Alex made a face. "It wasn't my secret to tell. And she promised she would talk to you about it. Well, to Supergirl. But I don't think it's Supergirl she needs right now." Alex turned sideways in her stool to fix Kara with her very best, most serious pleading expression. "She's completely terrified. She has no idea what she's doing, and she doesn't have Clark to help her deal with this. She's got a lot of blood on her hands, and I just think that what she needs right now is to talk to somebody who's been through it. Somebody human. Well, not human, but you know what I mean. Somebody she can relate to."

Which is how two days ago Kara came to be hovering outside of Sam's hotel room, a hundred feet or so in the air, in her civilian clothes. She hesitated. It was dangerous to be out in civilian clothes, and so the hesitation was foolish, but she couldn't bring herself to hurry. To reveal her identity to anyone at all was a risk. To reveal it to Lena's best friend was downright stupid. But it had to be done. Kara tapped on the window, gentle at first, and then more firmly when Sam didn't come right away.

Sam pulled the blinds back with an awed expression, seeing Kara without really seeing her, already reaching for the latch when she said, "Supergirl! I- Wait. Kara?"

Kara eased herself through the window and brushed off her jeans. "I think we should talk," she said.

///// It took two days of conversation, meditation, and tears before Sam agreed to learn to fly, and now they're here on the mountain where the DEO once put a very green Supergirl through her paces. There are no tests to run now, no military to win over, no point to prove. Just Alex, Sam, Kara, and the open sky.

"Are you ready?" Kara asks.

Sam shifts her weight from foot to foot and looks up at all that bright blue nothing. "The last time I flew, people died. You almost died."

Kara nods. They've been over this hangup a couple of times now, and there isn't much left to say. "That wasn't you," she says anyway. It doesn't hurt for Sam to hear it again.

"What if I fall?"

"It doesn't hurt." Kara looks at Sam out of the corner of her eye, at her crossed arms and closed expression, hoodie and sweats even in the heat of the day. "You might leave a mark on the mountainside, but I don't think anybody's going to notice. Not a big deal. Promise."

"It's not hitting the mountain I'm afraid of," Sam says. "It's just the falling."

Kara doesn't have an answer to that.

They stand there together for a while until Alex pats Sam twice on the shoulder and walks away to watch from the other side of the plateau. Kara pretends not to notice that Sam's hands start shaking in Alex's absence. She kicks off gently from the ground and hovers some ten feet up.

"Just come up to me," she says. "Nice and easy. And then, if you want, we can go back down."

For a moment it seems like maybe Sam doesn't know how to take off. She sort of half hops and then huffs, turns all the way around to throw her arms up with exasperation in Alex's general direction, turns back around and looks up, closes her eyes. Kara has been there.

"You know," she says. "In a couple of years you'll be back here teaching Ruby how to do this. If it is Rao's will."

Sam opens her eyes.

"You really think she'll be able to? Do all this?"

Kara shrugs. "We don't know. Maybe." There's no precedent for a half-Kryptonian child on Earth as far as Kara knows, but she's asked Lena, and Lena says probably. Almost definitely. She says Ruby is already showing signs, but that Sam is afraid to see them, that the best thing Supergirl can do for Ruby and Sam both is to make Sam as comfortable as possible in her own body.

Sam kicks off the ground. She shoots up a little too fast at first with a yelp, overshoots Kara and has to bring herself back down. Her cheeks are flushed and her whole body is trembling, but she's doing it: she's flying.

"There you go," Kara says with a bright smile. "See? Super easy. Like riding a bike."

"I don't like bikes," Sam mumbles.

Kara isn't sure if that's true or if Sam is trying to make a quip about flying. "You want to go up a little higher?"

They spend an hour on it. Sam stays close to the ground at first, testing her limits, always afraid of falling even as the sky itself steadfastly holds her up. Kara takes her on laps around the mountain range, faster and faster, higher and higher, until Sam puts on a burst of speed and breaks the sound barrier. Alex whoops far below, and Sam comes to a halt laughing and crying as Kara wraps her arms around her for a midair hug.

"See? You've got this. You were born for this."

Sam says nothing for a long while, weeping into Kara's shoulder. Kara holds her tight. To the right stretch the city and the sea, and to the left the desert on and on forever, and there's Sam in the middle of it all flying for the first time, and Kara is feeling small and magnificent and less alone than she has in a long time.

Sam pulls away and wipes her face. "Do you think..." She looks out at the city and shakes her head once, hard.

"Do I think what?"

Sam makes a pained face. "It's stupid."

"Nothing is stupid today."

"Do you think I could do what you do? Do you think I could help?" She fixes Kara with a serious expression. "I know I have a lot to learn. But I want to do some good; I feel like I have to do something. I know it was Reign who killed all those people, but it was this body, and I want... Sitting at home watching you on the news knowing I could have been there to back you up, I felt guilty. And useless."

Kara hums. "If this is something you want. But you have to really want it."

"Do I get to wear a cool suit?"

"I think Brainy would give his right arm for the opportunity to design a cool suit for you."

Sam laughs at that. "No skirts though," she says. "The skirt thing is all you."

Kara scrunches up her nose, but she doesn't answer. The skirt is getting old, and perhaps its time she had a conversation with Brainy about a new suit, too. But Brainy is about to have plenty to do, so perhaps not.

"When will you tell Ruby about your powers?"

Sam raises her eyebrows. "When will you tell Lena about yours?"

"That's not fair; it's a completely different situation," Kara protests.

"Because you're in love with her?"

Kara's stomach drops as though she'd suddenly fallen from the air. She turns away. Even from here she can spy the little black van winding its way up to the top of the mountain. Lena is in that car, and Kara's second student. Kara isn't ready. Kara isn't sure she will ever be ready.

"Let's do a few more laps before they get here," she says.

Lena arrives dressed more appropriately for a gala than for standing in the dust on the top of a desert mountain, high heels and a skin tight dress, hair falling loose over her shoulders. Kara almost laughs when she sees her, feels almost crushed beneath the sudden rush of grief and affection, but she doesn't come down to the ground. This is all difficult enough from here, thank you. Alex can do all the necessary talking; Kara will stay out of the way.

Sam touches down though and throws her arms around Lena, and Kara can hear them laughing together, can see the glow of pride in Lena's face as she holds Sam by the shoulders, can practically feel the warmth of the love between them. And then the second figure gets out of the car, shoulders hunched in her muscle tank, blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She's cautious, hovering at Lena's shoulder like a ghost.

Lena pushes the newcomer gently towards Sam. Sam cocks her head to one side and glances up at Kara, then at Alex.

"Linda," Lena says, "This is Sam. She's going to fly with you and Supergirl today. Sam, this is the woman I was telling you about."

Linda reaches for a handshake. Sam brushes her arm aside and goes for a hug.

"I didn't know Supergirl had a twin," Sam comments.

"She didn't," Linda replies.

Kara drifts a little higher into the sky. Sam comes up to join her at Lena's request, granting her a moment of privacy with Linda, at least to the extent that one can enjoy privacy in Kryptonian company. And Kara wants to look away because damn it all to hell Sam is right. Sam is right and Kara is in love and she would give anything, anything at all, to be Linda in that moment when Lena kisses her mouth right there in the dust in the sun at the top of the world.

"You can do this," Lena whispers, and Kara wants to curse her super hearing and she wants to curse her heart and she wants to curse the fact that she can't bring herself to hate the person who won Lena before Kara could work up the courage because it's Linda. Linda who nearly gave her life to save Kara's. Linda who lay unconscious in the DEO for days and days while she recovered from Kryptonite poisoning, and longer still while she waited out a solar flare so intense that for a while they weren't sure her powers would ever return. How could Kara hate her? It isn't her fault, not really.

Kara finally turns away. She does another lap around the mountain range to clear her mind and when she returns Linda is standing on the ridge of the valley leaning out over the precipice. Sam says nothing, doesn't ask why Kara never mentioned Linda, doesn't ask whether this has something to do with her decision to withhold her identity from Lena. She just squeezes Kara's shoulder and offers a sad, knowing smile.

"Are you ready?" Kara calls down.

Linda steps out into empty space.

For a split second Kara is afraid that Linda's powers haven't returned after all, that they've made a terrible mistake, and Sam must feel the fear too because they both flinch forward. But the air holds, and Linda stands there perfectly still, hovering just a few inches above the ground. It's as though the world freezes for a moment. And then she looks up, and she smiles.

Kara lets out a breath she never realized she was holding.

"See?" Sam calls down. "Like riding a bike."

Linda looks confused, and Kara laughs, and then the three of them are standing together in the sky holding one another by the forearms and the shoulders as though holding one another up.

"Do you think..." Linda begins. She looks out at the desert and shakes her head once, hard. Kara has a moment of intense deja vu.

"Do I think what?"

"Maybe we can make a better world," Linda says. She meets Kara's eyes cautiously at first, not looking straight at her, as though Kara will reprimand her or turn away.

Kara looks at each of them in turn, and then down to where Alex and Lena are leaning against the van, watching. What an unlikely family they are: the head of a covert government agency, a billionaire super genius CEO, the liberated vessel of a lost god, an accidental clone, and the last daughter of Krpyton. Well, not the last daughter after all. She smiles. "Maybe we have already begun."

[gemlinz]

Fulcrum ch. 4 - Roadblock (Levi x f!Reader)

Summary: It was a cruel world, she knew. She also knew better than to ask for more than her lot: being a full time barmaid and a part time thief. She helped where she could, bitterly accepted where she could not. Feared the monsters lurking outside the walls.  But still - being near him, taking in his strength, his resolve - she couldn't help but hope for more. For herself. For him. For humanity.

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mention of Child Abuse

| CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 |

Read on A03

He almost doesn’t recognize her at first, in the light of day.  Usually, their meetings were at night, and she was dressed for work; be it barmaid or spy.  Now though, she’s wearing civilian clothes, hair done up and neat.  He can also see the defined muscles of her arms through her shawl, becoming more honed as the weeks of training go on.

The location is also unexpected- a small out of the way tea shop.  It also happened to be the only one that carried his preferred brand, so he’d frequent whenever leave allowed.

F/N’s talking to the owner at the counter when he enters, not noticing him.  Whatever it is must be interesting, neither of them look up at the bell.

Gritting his teeth at the sight of her, he hangs back.  Let her dig her grave first.

“This one?”  She points to a jar filled with loose leaves, “How long should it steep for?”

The shopkeep nods along, “That's the one - you’ll want to steep it in boiling water for 3 minutes, longer for a more mature taste.”

At her hesitation, the old man prompts with a twinkle in his eye, “It’s one of our most popular - sure to please any suitor.”

She scrambled to catch her wallet, almost dropping it in surprise.

“Oh- Oh no, nothing like that!”  From behind, Levi could only see the tips of her ears glow red. His stomach clenched at the thought of the endearing blush that was probably spreading across the bridge of her nose.  All for show as she continued to stutter out her cover story,  “It's for a, um, friend - I work at a bar, you see…”

“You serve tea….at a bar?”  The owner replied, skeptical.

F/N nodded frantically, ready to double down.  

“She serves shitty tea at a bar.”  Levi corrected, watching her violently startle at his voice.

“Levi!” The owner admonishes, recognizing him immediately, “You know you’re one of my favorite customers, but you can't talk to a lady like that.”

She had whipped around the second he spoke, eyes wide.  Levi wasn’t buying it for a second.

Roughly grabbing her arm, he shouted over his shoulder, “She ain’t no lady, old man.”  to the protesting shop owner as he forcibly dragged her outside.

“Pick another mark.” He deadpanned once they were outside, throwing her away from him.  Passerby's nervously shot them looks.

She stared at him for a beat, comprehending his words as she rubbed at where he had grabbed her with a wince.  Something like hurt crossed her face before quickly turning to rage.

“Fuck you, Levi.”  Her eyes blazed, and Levi raised a brow at her tone; he was used to her short temper, but she was usually smarter than to direct it at him.  He chalked it up to fear.  “I wasn’t going to rob him.  I was…” Her anger trailed off as she scrambled to explain, flushing. “Well, I was, um..”

“Convincing,” he snorted, “Get the hell out of here before I turn you in.  This shop’s off limits.”  

She could only stare at him.  Finding only condemnation and disgust in his eyes, she clenched her jaw and nodded.  

Eyes hard, she sent him one more glare before turning on her heel and all but storming down the street, fists clenched tightly at her side.

The Captain's eyes narrowed at her retreating back until she turned a corner. Once she was out of sight, he went back in; he still needed his tea.

“Yo, old man.  I’ll have my-”

“Levi!”  The old man started accusingly, “You can’t just scare aware my customers like that!”

“She wasn’t going to buy anything,” he scoffed, “She was casing you.”  At the blank look, he continued, "That woman's a known thief, she was going to steal from you.”

“Oh,” The old man deflated, taken aback “She seemed so earnest, too.  With a face like that, I really believed her.”

Levi hummed, “Yeah. I’m sure she came in with some bullshit story.  While you helped her, she looked for weaknesses.  Maybe even figured out where you keep your cash.”

“Yes, yes, she did have a story, now that you mention it.”  The old man nodded, putting it together, “Said she was looking for a brew for a thank you gift.  She seemed odd, but I thought she was just embarrassed to be buying tea for a suitor.”

Levi paused at that, then shook it off, squashing the thought.

“Yeah, any friends she has don’t drink tea.  You got scammed, old man.”

Sighing, the shopkeeper shook his head.

“Such a shame.  People these days, no honor.”  Moving back behind the counter, he continued, “But let me get you your regular - discounted, for your help.”

“Not necessary, but I wont say no.  Thanks.”

A week later and he found himself back at Louis’ pub, sitting in the same disgusting corner.

It was early - there were only a few men sitting down, getting a head start on the night.

Levi was staring so hard in disgust at the crumbs littering the table that he didn’t hear her come up until she cleared her throat.

If he was anyone else, he would have jumped.  Never before had someone been able to sneak up on him.

She didn’t miss his miniscule flinch though, and her eyebrows hit her hairline.  He scowled.

“Tea.” He bit out.

“We’re out,” she said with no inflection and offering no further explanation.

He stared.

“How the fuck can you be out?  Don’t you keep inventory or some shit?”

“Well,” F/N began, suddenly not meeting his eyes, “I went to go get more but I was unable to.”

“You were unable to?”  He deadpanned.

When she remained silently staring at the wall beside his head, he scoffed out something like a laugh.

“Yeah, I ain’t buying it.  You expect me to believe that you were actually at that tea shop to buy tea?  Bullshit - whatever swill you were serving me before definitely didn’t come from that shop.”

“Believe whatever you want, we still don’t have any tea.”  Her face gave away nothing and Levi sighed, rubbing at his brow.  Whatever she was playing at was going to give him a migraine.

“Fine.” He bit out, “I’ll take an ale.  Make sure the glass is clean, or I’ll send it back.”

Brushing off his warning, she walked away to get his order.  He eyed her back wearily - something was off, but he couldn’t pin it on what.  She was pissed, sure, but at what?  Because he ruined her heist on the tea shop?  That was pennies to what Erwin was paying her, she needed to get over it.  

So what was it?  Did he hurt her pride?  She was a good thief, a fantastic spy - what could robbing an unassuming store add to her reputation?

Could she really have been…?

No, he cut himself off.  She was a thief, plain and simple. She didn’t need another reason to steal.

Even as he thought it, his mind was already contradicting himself.  She was a thief - but so was he, not too long ago.  Worse than that, actually.  Isabel and Farlan had been too.  

And despite their initial meeting, she wasn’t as awful as some people he knew.  She was becoming almost tolerable, even.  Though her cleaning skills were abysmal. 

That played to his benefit though, as he used the ritualistic cleaning of the pub to clear his head, especially after a particularly shitty expedition.  It also helped not being alone with the memories of his dead comrades.  And F/N let him, oftentimes staying up much later than she would have otherwise.

Not out of the goodness of her heart, Levi reminded himself.  He wasn’t an idiot - he saw her intentionally mucking up her cleanup to try and goad him into doing it for her.  Not that it ever stopped him.

Their spy was also surprisingly receptive to training - she caught on quick, and only complained when he was particularly brutal.  Even after only a few weeks, he was having a harder and harder time landing a hit on her - granted in a real fight she’d still be severely outmatched, but still.  Any disadvantage he could give their enemies, he would. 

Sighing, he watched her make her way back to him, ale in hand.

“Here you are,” she said, placing it down with a forced smile.  Showmanship for any onlookers. “Anything else, sir?”

He narrowed his eyes.  Her fake sweetness always made him want to gag.  

“Sit.”  He commanded, kicking the chair across from him out.

Her eyes widened, though her smile didn’t drop.

“U-um,” She stuttered, moving her eyes to the other customers, “Are you sure that's-”

Rolling his eyes he nodded at the chair before commanding again, more sternly, “Sit.”

Immediately she sat, ankles crossed and not looking at him.  Satisfied, Levi reached for his pocket, pausing only briefly when he saw her start shaking.

She was still scared of him, he realized.  He supposed that was fair - he did threaten to slit her throat.  Still -

“It’s fine.  You’re just sweet talking a customer for a higher tip, no one will look twice.  You need to relax before some shithead gets the wrong idea.”  He pulled the letter out of his pocket slowly, letting her see clearly what it was before sliding it across to her.  She visibly relaxed.

“It's from our mutual friend,” He clarified, unnecessarily, “We’re going out of town for a few weeks. He has a job for you in the meantime.”

“Out of town,” She nodded, understanding, “Got it.  I’ll get what I can.”  She slid the letter into her apron and stood, hesitating.

“Something else?”  He asked, perturbed, taking a sip of his ale before grimacing at the taste.

She shot him one last look of irritation, then returned to serving the rest of her customers.  She wouldn’t stop by his table again until he had left.

As she cleared it off for the next guest, she smiled to herself at the generous stack of bills left under his half empty glass.

The job Erwin had for her was pretty easy, skill wise.  She had surveyed the property a few days prior, and she didn’t foresee any real challenge - security was weak, and the guards were overpaid noble brats. What's more, the mark literally had a ledger filled with his illegal dealings, shoddily hidden in a false drawer of his desk.  It would be suspicious if it wasn’t typical - the rich and powerful always thought they were untouchable.

However, as she copied down key transactions F/N quickly realized that this job was actually devastatingly hard - among other things, they were selling people - children, specifically.

With a rock in her gut, she re-read the log entry as memories hit her like a brick wall.  Trying to slow her harsh breathing, she dug crescent shaped cuts into her palms with her nails.  The pain brought her back to the present.

Swallowing hard, the young thief had barely made it out of the estate after copying the remaining logs.  The urge to destroy this monster was strong, and she’d start with this gaudy eyesore of a castle he had made off his sales. She could almost smell the smoke, could almost hear the crackle and pop as it burned to the ground.

The threat of Erwin turning her into the MPs when suspicions grew at why this particular merchant was targeted was the only thing stopping her.

Wasn’t going to stop her from strongly urging Erwin to do something about it in her report though.  

As she made her way back home, F/N felt drained.  This mission was done late - so late that it was early.  A night owl by nature, that fact didn’t bother her - but the quiet meant her mind kept journeying to the fringes of her memory, despite her best efforts at distraction.  Her fist clenched in anger, hissing as she aggravated the cuts on her hands.

The rich and powerful were used to getting what they wanted, no matter how fucked up it was.  She was living proof of that.  

The pub was dark when she arrived, Louis having closed on his own hours ago.  She took out her keys to unlock the back door.

“Oi.”  

The keys fell to the grime covered ground as she jumped.  The loud exhale behind her could have been mistaken for a laugh if she didn’t know better.

“Would you-!” She shouted, wincing at her volume in the quiet alley.  Voice dropping to a whisper she continued no less angry “Would you stop doing that?”

He was leaning against the wall, out of uniform but in a cloak with the hood pulled up.  She couldn’t see his face but she could feel the smirk.

“I’m here for your report.” His voice betrayed nothing, and it grated on her.

“Well, it's not done yet - I just got back.”  Pausing, she added, “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow.  Did the expedition end early?”

He was silent for a moment more before kicking off the wall, starting towards her.  She took a few steps back in alarm, but froze when he picked up her keys and held them up to her.

“Yes.  I’ll wait while you write it.” When she remained still, he gestured the keys to the door, waiting expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched them out of his hand, unlocking the door and letting them both into the dark bar.

Once they were both inside, F/N lit a lantern, heading towards the front. Taking one of the stacked chairs off the table and righting it, she sat.  

Levi, for all his big talk, looked lost now that he was inside.  He stood like a statue by the door to the back as she took out her notebook.

She tried ignoring him for a bit, but eventually grew agitated as she felt her anxiety spike at his looming presence.

“Would you sit down?”  She asked, annoyed.  She regretted it almost immediately, eyes darting back to her report.

He raised an eyebrow and she thought he would refuse - perhaps even violently, if their past was anything to go by - but eventually he sighed and righted one of the chairs at her table, sitting.  He undid his cloak and tossed it on the chair behind him.

It was an improvement, no matter how small, and F/N could feel herself relax.

Now she just had to write a report to Erwin detailing a child slave ring without losing her shit.

She wrote down the basics; who, where, when - but felt her mind blank on the what.

Levi noticed the hesitation immediately.

“That bad?”  He asked suddenly, and she almost dropped the pen at the suddenness of his question. 

“Am I that obvious?” She sighed tiredly, leaning back in her chair rubbing at her face.

He snorted.

“For a spy, you have a shit poker face.”  Levi paused, before leaning towards her, “What did you find?”

“Not a spy - just a thief.”  She answered automatically, eying him warily.  Biting her lip, she debated telling him, not sure how much Erwin wanted him to know.

But, then again, Erwin did have him restrain and beat her, so…

F/N flipped the notebook open to her copies of the ledger, sliding it over to him.  The thought of saying it aloud made her want to vomit.

Levi eyed her for only a second more before turning the notebook to read.  He made it about two entries before his face twisted in disgust.

“Fuck.”  He cursed, pushing the notebook away from him.  He stood up suddenly, and it was a testament to how tired she was that F/N didn’t even look up.

Hearing the clink of bottles, she watched him dig around the bar before setting an open whiskey bottle in front of her.

F/N met his gaze as he sat back down with his own glass, already filled with the amber liquor.  

“No glass for me?” She asked.

“Last time I saw you drink, you seemed to prefer going straight to the source.” He nodded towards the bottle, downing his glass.

She stiffened at the memory.  It had been seconds before he tried to shoot her.  And then succeeded in breaking her nose.  Fortunately for him, she was too tired right now to be anything but grateful for something to dull her mind.

Taking up the bottle, she took a long pull before setting it back on the table loudly.

They were silent for a moment, Levi helping himself to another pour.  F/N took another drink.

She could feel him studying her.

“This bothers you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Child slavery bothers me, asshole, yes.  Obviously.” She snapped back, stubbornly looking away.  Sometimes it still stung how lowly he thought of her.

“No,”  He continued, slowly, “This bothers you.  It’s personal.”

F/N felt her entire body go rigid, hand clasped tightly around the whiskey bottle.

Levi’s grey eyes took it in, nodding once to himself as if he had his answer.

It was quiet for a moment.  F/N took another pull of the liquor and steeled her nerves, picking up her pen once again.

She wrote the details in a clinical manner, the whiskey making her memories a bit hazier.  It helped.  Levi didn’t ask anymore questions.

When she finished, she sealed it and slid it across the table to him.  She held it firm when he made to grab it.

At his raised eyebrow, she took a breath, not meeting his eyes.

“Tell me Erwin will do something.”  Her voice was quiet, but carried weight.  “Tell me that even if it doesn’t fit the Corps agenda, he won’t-” She swallowed, “He won't let them get away with this.”

Levi sighed, then set his jaw.

“That’s not our call to make.”  

Shock loosened her grip enough for him to pry the report from under her fingers.  He tucked it into his jacket, eyeing her warily.  

Her stunned silence lasted only for a moment more before rage gave way.

“So, what, we just let them get away with it?”  She was standing now, the chair falling loudly behind her, “What about the kids, Levi?  Do you know what they do-”  She cut herself off suddenly, a look of horror on her face as she found herself caught in her own memories.

“Do you know what they do to them?”  She began again, breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, “Whatever you’re picturing, it's worse, it's literal hell, and they don’t get it - they’re too young to understand why it's happening to them - and they can’t defend themselves. And you’re telling me that for all his big hero talk that Erwin could turn his back on them...?”

She was ranting now, but Levi let her get it out before countering, “Whatever he decides, he’ll have his reasons.”

F/N slammed her hand down on the table, the whiskey bottle toppling over and spilling on the impact.  His hand inched towards his knife on instinct.

“That's not good enough!  You think the kids they’re brutalizing give a shit about his reasons!?” 

“You need to calm down.”  He ordered.  “Sit back down.”

She jammed a finger in his face, towering over where he still remained seated.

“I will not calm down - fuck Erwin for using the lives of children as a bargaining chip and fuck you for letting him.  If you won’t do something, then I’ll-”

F/N cut off in a gasp when he suddenly grabbed the wrist of the hand currently in his face and used it to lay her flat onto the table, arm twisted behind her.  It was a frustratingly familiar position, and she saw red at her own weakness.  Whiskey soaked her shirt as she tried to fight him off.  He waited patiently while she raged against him, his strength not letting up.  When she finally tired, breathing heavily and eyes still furious, he leaned in close, voice a menacing whisper from behind her.

“You’ll do what, F/N?”  He wasn’t taunting, but his voice was uncompromising, “Storm the castle, play at being the hero again?  At best you'll get yourself killed.  At worst, you compromise the Corp, compromise Erwin. If you do something against what he orders, he’ll have me kill you.  Or send you to the MPs, and then you’ll wish I did.  This isn’t a game, and we have exactly zero say in how this plays out.  Do you understand?”  

When he could still see the murder in her eyes, he sighed before easing his grip up, just slightly.

“Look - I get what this means to you.  And I understand the consequences if Erwin chooses not to act on this information.  For what it's worth - I’ll lobby for the end of this scumbag, in the most painful ways I can imagine.  But I need you to trust Erwin-”  when he felt her tense again, ready to fight, he tried again, “I need you to trust me.  Can you do that?”

There was a long silence.  Then F/N let her head rest fully against the table, looking away.  She nodded in defeat.

“Good.”  He stood up, pulling her with him and helping steady her.  She rubbed her wrist where bruises were already starting to form.

“I need to head out.  Can I trust you to not be an idiot until I get back?”  He asked, dusting his coat off and fastening his cloak.  When she didn’t answer, he shot her a warning look, frustration evident.  “I don’t want to hurt you F/N, but you won’t enjoy it if I need to leave you a reminder.”

The young woman flinched at the threat, but nodded joltingly.  “Yeah I got it, Captain.” She spit out.

Levi frowned, but could see she was taking this seriously; her fear left a bad taste in his mouth, but if the end result was her compliance, he’d take it.

“Good.  Get some rest - I’ll be back when we have a new mark.”  He called over his shoulder, leaving through the back and out into the night.

As soon as she heard the door close behind him, she collapsed to the floor, stifling her sobs into her hand.

[spartanxhunterx]

Home Support (part 3)

Tags: @elmokingkong, @kuroko26, @votederpycausemufins, @redscarlet95, @amayakans, @yin-390, @susiej1118, @toodaloo-kangaroo

Her arms ached, her brow was dripping with sweat and the Akuma was hot on her heels. So much so that she could feel the heat they were emanating on her back, if it wasn't for Tikki's protection, she probably would have burned up by now.

She was trying to push the Akuma closer to the seine, closer to water, where she hoped to be able to dunk the Akuma into to combat the flames that engulfed them. Only then would she stand a chance. If only the Akuma didn't keep bringing up massive walls of flames to block her path.

At the very least, she had managed to scout out the Akuma's abilities. They could only being up one massive wall at a time, so as long as she didn't trap herself in (which is kinda hard when you can vault over every building around) then she could keep up with their game of cat and mouse.

Speaking of cats.

Chat Noir was following behind the Akuma, slightly off to the side. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but the damn cat was choosing to just watch from a safe distance, instead of trying to ambush Hawkmoths victim of the day.

She was so having choice words with him later.

She swerved to the side as a fireball flung past her head, she was certain that a few hair had to have been burnt from that. She had yet to see the extent of that move yet, but she would deal with it later.

The Akuma took priority, she swung around a corner, pulling herself up and over the building before her before touching down into a sprint that resulted in her jumping over gaps between buildings and streets. The Akuma left growing flames everywhere they went, leaving the fire department severely overworked and undermanned as they tried to fight the flames for the sake of the civilians.

She could see the seine just over the cusp of the buildings, feeling her determination grow she put all her effort into getting there as soon as possible.

It seems, however, her ladybug luck could only last so long.

As she flung her yo-yo onto a lamppost a blast of flame hit it, melting it instantly. She had already been lifted into the air slightly when it happened, expecting to simply vault to the closest building. Instead, she took a sudden dive towards the ground, hitting it full force as she skidded across the tarmac.

Thank Kwami for the magic that protected her.

as she turned to look up, she saw the Akuma hovering above her, the sharp symbol of Hawkmoth over their pure white glowing eyes. Without a word the Akuma raised their arm and pointed it at Ladybug, a large stream of fire escaped from their Palm and was heading her way.

She was frozen to the spot, unable to move, her yo-yo was too far away for her to use, having skidded away from her during her fall.

"LADYBUG!"

She was certain she was hearing Chat shouting her name but couldn't pinpoint its origins.

Just before the flames got to her she felt a massive hand grab her shoulder, pulling her backwards effortlessly as something big and round was planted in front of her.

The flames hit it, spreading around it as it was forced to come in contact with the... Thing... The tarmac around them began to bubble. After a few more seconds of the onslaught of flames, they stopped. The light of the flames had left her momentarily blinded, yet she felt... Safe.

She's stood as her eyes adjusted back to normal, before her stood a very large and very broad man. He was wearing large thick green boots, a thin dark green undersuit was covered with near black coloured sections around the thighs, shoulder and wrists. His stomach was more a yellow green giving off a pattern similar to... It clicked.

her eyes darted to large shield in His hand, to the turtle miraculous on his wrist then to the man's face where it was shrouded by the dark hood and goggle like mask.

There was fondness in those eyes that she couldn't immediately place. There was only two people who knew where to find the miraculous and only one of them were like the man before her.

"Papa?"

He, her father, smiled at her in that way that she knew meant that she was loved and cared for.

"Hello my little macaroon."

Marinette was about to open her mouth when another person, her Maman no doubt, landed next to them both. She would honestly admit to everyone around that she was jealous of her mother's attire.

Sabine's suit was designed like a hanfu dress, the deep red colour was accented by the shiny silver lines that made the entire suit look scaly. Sitting in the centre of her chest was a dragons head, wide open as if ready to bite, between the teeth was the three elemental symbols for water, air and lightning. The dragons neck when up and around her mother's neck where it went back down, seemingly under the head and towards her right hip.

The body of the Dragon circled around her waist until the tail hung loosely off her front. The large sleeves were designed to look like Dragon wings but clearly were unable to hold any real weight. Sabine's eyes had gone a golden yellow and sliced like a reptiles, the red mask that covered her eyes gave off the impression of an open maw, there were two horn like additions to each side of her head, almost looking like a crown.

She looked glorious and Marinette was jealous that her mother got to showcase her heritage better then she could.

"Perhaps it time we get a little... Lucky, ladybug."

Sabine jolted her head to behind them as she returned Ladybugs yo-yo to her, giving a quick look back she spotted Alya hiding behind a trashcan, phone trained on the three of them.

Great, Just.... Great.

"Protect me." She stepped back as her father pulled his shield up in front of them both and her mother drew the sword from her back, it look no different from the one Ryuoko used. "Lucky Charm!"

From the cloud of Ladybugs emerged a... "Fire blanket?"

" figure it out, " Her mother spoke fiercely. "I'll handle them for now." Like that she was off the ground, jumping from outcrop to outcrop while trying to get close to the Akuma.

Her sword would swing at them as she got close, forcing the Akuma to drop lower down or move back. Her mother was a little too fast for the Akuma to keep up with.

Ladybug scanned around her, her vision darkening as she tried to figure out a solution. There wasn't much to go off of right now just...

Her eyes darted to her father, then her mother, to the blanket and then the fire hydrant down the street, where to Akuma had been forced back towards.

"I got it." She quickly tied the blanket to her left arm, not wishing to lose it. "Help her push the Akuma back and down more, be ready to activate Shell-ter on my mark."

Her father gave her a nod before he ran down the street, not nearly as agile as the two of them. She was quick to fling her way to the hydrant, wrap the wire around the end and brace. Then she waited.

She watched her parents fight, her mother tried to stay as airborne as possible, bouncing back and forth between buildings and truly looking like a dragon.

Her father stayed down, drawing the heat - literally - to himself. Just a little closer.

"Hey bugaboo, look a little busy there, need a hand?"

She groaned internally, not letting the irresponsible hero get under her skin. "Not now Chat, talk later." She heard her earrings beep once and ignored the weight that was out on her shoulder.

A little more now.

"So, patrol tonight?"

" Can't... Family business. " Which for once would not be a lie.

"You can keep playing hard to get all you want MyL-"

"Now!" She pulled back on the hydrant , breaking it and allowing water to spray upwards. Directly into the Akuma.

they were put off by the force and their flames dulled due to the moisture but they didn't extinguish. They hit the ground close to her father, as he raised his shield up, her mother dropped next to him.

"Shell-ter!"

The large dome encompassed the three of them, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir outside it. Despite this it still seemed impossible to retrieve the Akumatised object as it had to have been below the flames, they couldn't see it.

"Hold your breath." The two adults looked at each other in understanding. " Water dragon! "

As quickly as one could blink the dome filled up with water, it filled the flames until they extinguished and even then the water stayed a short moment after. As her earrings beeped a second time ladybug unwrapped the blanket from her arm, she knew what she had to do.

As quickly as it started, the shield dropped and the water flowed everywhere, leaving her parents both standing above the Akuma. Ladybug wasted no time in trying their hands together with one end of the blanket before she used the other end to pay down the Akuma still hot body.

there were cracks running up their body like magma was trying escape from underground. She quIckly found the object, a fancy looking lighter, before she smashed it on the ground under her foot.

She untied the blanket before repainting into the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!" Like that all the damage was reverted, fires where extinguished and the hard working rescue services could relax once more.

As the corrupted magic dissipated off the victims body ladybugs earrings beeped a third time, this time she brought a hand up to them before she turned to her parents.

"Go, we'll handle this." Her mother was already kneeling by the victim, trying to comfort them.

" purr-haps I should take you home Milady? We still need to have tha-" Chat Noirs words were interrupted by his yelp of pain, caused by her father dragging him backwards by his tail.

"Actually," the larger man spoke, putting an arm around the feline hero. "Why don't you help us speak to our... Dedicated reporter." He gestured to Alya as Ladybug Yo-Yo'd away, greatful for her parents.

After a few minutes of gushing and - with somewhat scornful looks sent the man's way - asking questions they ended off on the important one.

"So, what done a call you two?"

"Fēilóng." The Dragon weilder spoke, authority and power coursing in her voice.

"Tortue." The turtle weilder spoke with pride in his own voice, a sound that made others feel at ease and safe around him.

quickly the two of them jumped up to the closest roof, gave each other a sparing glance before parting ways, as if they didn't know each other. Leaving a grumbling cat and slightly disgruntled reporter behind.

-

Later the family was sat at their dinning room table enjoying their dinner, as they spoke about pleasant nothing's. As if the three of them had never gone out and fought a magic enhanced villain with the help of magical mini-gods.

said Mini-Gods were sat in the centre of the table enjoying their own food and even tea from their miniature cups. Marinette had been more then willing to allow her parents to keep the miraculous, both so she could have back up and so the Kwami themselves could enjoy the world more thoroughly.

She knew Wayzz needed more time before he got over the loss of master fu, what better way then to find with someone new?

She's knew he wouldn't be decent for a while and she didn't blame him for it at all.

"Tikki?" The tiny red God looked up to her chosen not noticing, or choosing not to acknowledge, the glint of mischief in her yes.

"Yes Marinette?"

" Could not be possible to... say... Pass a message onto Plagg for me? It's important. "

"I would have to visit him personally and inform think that's wise. "

"Well," the bi-racial girl started. "I don't think we'll get an Akuma tonight, so it should be safe. I just need you to ask Plagg How he feels about his holder and what he's doing to correct his behaviour, he was pretty game today after all."

" Very well, do you wish for me to depart immediately or later? "

"Soon. It would be best so we can get to sleep early tonight, I'm exhausted. "

"Very well." Despite her size , Tikki was quick to pick up a cookie and carry it with her. "I shall return as soon as possible."

She went through the open window , unable to phase through it while holding her sugary treat. Her parents looked at her oddly and she was quick to withdraw a box from her bag, pulling the miraculous out of it she didn't flinch at the bright golden light in front of her. She clipped the comb to one of her ponytails before facing her parents.

"Lets go get the ring back. "

[revasserium]

those who make sandcastles

send me a prompt or a number and a character 

naruto reqs are: open

kakashi; 1,210 words 

a/n: how could i start off my naru-shiz with anything other than ambiguous kakashi fluffangst? 

it’s a dangerous thing, falling in love. like carving open your chest, handing someone a kunai tipped in poison, and saying -- here, have a go. and kakashi has long since mastered the art of shutting down the tingle at the base of his neck, the way his eyes linger, how his heart, even after so many years of rigorous training, still seems to betray him and beat just a little faster. 

he has a thing, he knows, for women who will never love him back. safer this way -- for all parties involved. the same way he has a thing for ice sculptures and sandcastles, things that are only ever momentary in their perfection, in their beauty, in their existence because he can never allow himself more than that. 

he meets you on the beach, or rather, the makeshift one at the edge of training ground five, designed to familiarize those who had never yet left the protective walls of konoha. he watches the way your bare feet sink into the wet sand, the way the waves lap at your ankles like daring puppies, eager for your attention. 

the way your hair is loose around our shoulders, fluttering in the slight saltine breeze. 

“it’s very late,” he says, his voice light and low and friendly as he approaches, his curiosity piquing as he runs through the list your possible identities in his head -- ninja, at least chuunin, no one else would have access to these training grounds, younger than him, perhaps, but not by much, judging by the smooth of your skin, the soft curves of your body beneath your dress -- his mind pauses. strange, that’d you be wearing civilian clothes in a training arena, but then again, you didn’t look like you’d come here with the intention of training to begin with. 

you turn your head towards him, seemingly unstartled by his appearance. 

good chakra senses, he muses, taking a few steps closer, his stance still open, relaxed, as he runs his eyes over your figure, draped in the silver moonlight, something like a daydream -- 

you laugh. 

“or very early.” 

the sound almost startles him in its clarity, it’s purity. 

his heart shatters at the sound -- the honesty of it. how could you not be broken? all shinobi are. because no one makes it out without jagged scars marring the muscle that was once upon a time a human heart -- and yet -- 

he smiles, leveling himself with you to look over the artificial ocean, the moonlight glimmering over the surface like so many shards of glass. beautiful, dangerous, illusory. 

“or that,” he offers. 

after another moment, he chances you a glance with his one uncovered eye. 

“out for a bit of late-night training?” he asks, even though he knows the answer. there’s not a single weapon in sight, no shuriken, no kunai, not even ninja wire. your chakra is calm, smooth, unlike the harried spikes and bursts often brought on by battle, or simulations therein. still, he knows there are other methods of training, most of them clan-exclusive jutsu and techniques, but he’d remember if you’re from a clan -- he’s not likely to forget a face like that. 

you quirk your head towards him, your eyes flickering over what little of his face you could see. 

“something like that.” 

he pauses. not the answer he’d been expecting. 

“mah... i’ve got a bit of free time, if you need a sparring partner.” 

you smile and turn towards him proper. that’s when he notices the small marking on your upper arm, dark and familiar and suddenly, it all makes sense. 

ANBU. 

and -- oh, but you’re so young. older then he’d been when he was in ANBU, sure, but still -- the way you smile, like it’s nothing, like the sun still shines warm along your skin even after it’s long passed the time for sunsets. 

“i appreciate the offer,” you say, your voice light and airy and just a little teasing; kakashi feels his stomach flip uncomfortably and he finds himself swallowing. 

“but it’s not a sparring partner i need, though,” you grin to yourself, a secret, darling little thing, “i suppose you could call it that. occasionally.” 

it takes half a second for kakashi to put two and two together, a hot flush working it’s way into his skin. not that you could see -- and yet. 

“ah.” 

how could he have forgotten -- the special sector within ANBU divisions, specializing in enemy line infiltration and information collection -- which, kakashi thought had always been a long way of saying sex sells. only a handful of kunoichi (and very rarely, a male shinobi) are picked from ANBU for their “potential” and kakashi can now see why it had been you. 

beautiful, and more importantly, unassuming -- nothing about you spoke shinobi in the way that’s so glaringly obvious for most others of your station. an experienced ninja could spot a fellow assassin from the way they walked, let alone the way they spoke or held themselves. but you -- 

god, he’d been stupid. 

and you, well you are good. 

“but maybe...” your voice interrupts his thoughts, and he catches himself before he can appear startled. 

“after i come back.” 

he raises an invisible eyebrow. 

“for sparring or...” he lets his voice trail off, the hint of a tease in his own voice, though it feels strange to flirt after so long. like an old muscle being stretched, the sting of it something exhilarating. 

“sparring,” he finishes, the inflection in his voice deep and suggestive. 

beside him, you shiver and he finds himself oddly pleased with the reaction. 

“hm,” you say, linking your hands behind your back and tipping your head up to look at the sky. he can’t help marveling at the boldness of the move. at how unguarded you seem, the way the pale skin of your neck stretches down over the smooth slope of your shoulder. the strap of your dress. 

it’d be so easy to kill you. 

so easy to kiss you, too. 

ah, he thinks, there it is. 

“why not both?” you ask, as if it’s a perfectly innocent, reasonable request. 

and kakashi can’t help the breath of laughter that falls from him, unbidden and a little surprised. 

“it’s a date, then.” 

the waves crest up against the tips of your toes. kakashi looks down at the way the water kisses at the edge of his sandals. he’ll have to wash them tonight, for sure. 

you nod, and the motion is less a promise, more a tangible sign of some future intangibility. because nothing is certain, and kakashi has learned long ago not to make promises he cannot keep lest the wrath of the petty gods come down to smite him as they have done before. he’s long since learned that nothing, nothing is for certain if not death itself come to collect with is dark cloak and ragged breaths. 

he knows better than to hope. and yet, somehow, he does. 

you smile. the wind picks up. 

you smell like spring leaves and a whole ocean’s worth of unspoken words. 

“it’s a date.” 

[witchygagirlwrites]

Cant Love You Back

*Not My Gif*

Because the song was stuck in my hand and apparently I am a fucking narcissist that loves pain so here ya go. @gottaboopthesnoot

There was a time in Kelly's life he was simply coasting through. He'd bust his ass at work then either go home to an empty apartment or go get drunk and go home with a girl whose name he had forgotten by the time he left her place. 

That changed the day Chief Boden announced fifty one was getting a new addition. You stood at the front of the room as Boden introduced you. Kelly offered you his hand and from the moment you smiled at him he felt something start to flutter inside him he had never dreamt of giving the light of day.

You fit in as if you'd been a part of the team from the start. Everyone that met you seemed to be drawn to you, Kelly worse of all. He'd find himself scanning for you after a tough call just to see for himself you were fine. After shift would end he'd make any excuse to spend more time with you 

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

"So when are you gonna bite the bullet and ask her out?" Matt asked after watching Kelly follow you around like a puppy for two solid months. 

When Kelly cut his eyes at him he raised both hands defensively "Just saying man. It's painfully obvious how you feel. I can't blame you she's a great woman and beautiful. I think she feels the same but you're her Lieutenant and she's not going to admit anything that may make her seem as if she's ladder climbing" 

"That you or Gabby talking?" Kelly asked looking out into the bay where you were currently helping Gabby and Sylvie restock their rig. "Little bit of both. I'm just saying Kelly you've changed since she got here and it's not bad changes. Go with your gut. It's never led you wrong" 

Kelly felt Matt patt his shoulder before hearing his footsteps walk away. Had he changed that much since meeting you? When he thought about it he didn't remember the last time he'd drank over a couple beer and he'd been content with an empty bed knowing he'd see you the following shift 

You threw him off balance in the best way possible. You wouldn't blink an eye going into a fire but volunteered in the n.i.c.u. on your days off. You were a perfect combination of that fire he'd always crave and the peace that he desperately needed.

Hearing your laughter drew him out his thoughts and he glanced up to see you walking into the common room laughing about something Slyvie had said. When your eyes met his you smiled even further "Hey Kelly" "Hey Y/N can i talk to you for a minute?" The moment he asked Slyvie and Gabby shared a look then made up some excuse to be scarce.

"What's up?" You asked smiling up at him and Jesus christ he felt like a teenager with their first crush "You think you may wanna grab dinner with me sometime?" "Kelly Severide are you asking me out?" You questioned and he nearly blushed "Yeah?" You took a step closer to him and leaned up to leave a kiss on his cheek "good cause I am doing absolutely nothing Friday night and I have a new outfit sitting in my closet that desperately needs to see the light of day" 

"About frickin time!" Both of you both turned when you heard Mouch who was sitting on the couch watching t.v. but it was apparent he'd seen your exchange. "Excuse me?" You asked with a laugh so Mouch shrugged "I had the two and a half month mark in the betting pool" 

Your mouth fell open in shock and Kelly couldn't help but laugh when you recovered enough to say "That's it! I'm calling sergeant Platt!" and Mouch started backtracking trying his best to apologize but you winked at Kelly then ran off already dialing on your phone.

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

Kelly pulled up in front of your apartment building around seven and slowly walked inside. Your apartment was on the second floor so headed for the elevator while he sent you a text that he was on the way up.

By the time he stepped off the elevator you were standing in the hall waiting on him. You were wearing black ankle boots with a black dress and a red leather jacket. Your hair was down in loose curls around your face and he'd never seen a more beautiful sight. "Wow" he breathed and a smile spread across your face "Does that mean you like?" He nodded quickly "Very much"

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

The night went by too quick in Kelly's opinion. The two of you went to dinner and a movie then stopped at Molly's for a drink before he took you home. When he walked in with his arm around your waist it just felt right. Otis slid two drinks across the bar with a smile "These are from Mouch and Trudy"  you leaned back in your seat and spotted the two so you raised your bottle to them with a smile then turned back to Kelly "So Severide I was going to wait until you take me home but you owe me a kiss. I mean i technically kissed you first"

"Is that right?" He asked with a smirk that only deepened when you said "oh yeah definitely. I mean I've heard that you're some sort of ladies man yet all night the furthest you've went is home my hand or putting your arm around me" he cut you off mid sentence with a kiss. The kiss was gentle, barely a brush of the lips but when he pulled back a smile was on both of your faces "So does that mean this is going to be more than one date?" He asked and was answered by you grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for another kiss. 

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

The first time you told Kelly you loved him was after a huge fight between the two of you. You'd been staying at his place more and more so he was on the verge of asking you to move in but it just so happened a friend of yours had stopped by the firehouse to catch up. That friend just so happened to be male and Kelly's jealousy flared up.

The night had ended with you storming out of his apartment slamming the door behind you. You didn't answer any of his calls or texts and when he came over to your place you opened the door long enough to say "Kelly if you care about me at all you'll leave"

The next day he was miserable walking into fifty one. He spotted your car and prayed you'd talk to him but you stayed close to either Gabby and Sylvie or once they left on a call you walked over to where Herrman was sitting and struck up a conversation with him.

A call came out for an apartment fire with civilians trapped. Kelly was watching you take your orders from Matt and wanted nothing more than to tell you to be safe before you went  in but didn't want to distract you if you were still upset.  You started to walk past him but stopped just long enough to say "I love you Kelly" then jogged to catch up with your crew who were headed in. He had just a few seconds to process what you'd said before heading in the other entrance with Cruz.

The moment the building was cleared you were outside helping roll the hoses up. Kelly had just got through talking with Matt and chief Boden when he saw you. He caught your hand when you bent down to pick up another hose and the moment your eyes met his he said "I love you too. I'm sorry i was a jealous asshole. I've just never felt this way" you rolled your eyes but the smile you had told him all he needed to know even before you said "Good because neither have I. I'm not going anywhere Kelly" 

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

You and Kelly were coming up on your two year anniversary. Your present had been sitting in the top drawer of his dresser for weeks. Gabby had went with him to help pick out what cut and style of ring she thought you'd like and of course she'd somehow managed to find out your ring size as well.

He had everything planned. Where he was going to take you, what he was going to say. The thing about plans is that sometimes the unexpected happens.

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

The call had been simple enough. A warehouse had caught fire on the south side. You'd went in with Matt to clear the base floor where a few workers were trapped. You were following close behind Matt "Fire Department call out!" The haze of smoke was bad enough you could barely see in front of you.

You took another step and heard the crack right before your footing gave way. One moment you were falling the next you felt a sharp pain rip through your abdomen. You looked down to see a piece of rebar sticking out an inch above your navel. Your hands were shaking as you touched the wound trying to apply pressure but the slightest movement ripped a scream from your lips. "Y/N!" You could hear Matt's voice and knew you just had to hold on.

A moment later you heard him across the radio "Floor collapsed. Y/N's hurt. I need assistance" when his face appeared next to you the look on your face told you everything you needed to know about your injury. "Matt if something happens. Help Kelly please" you begged him your only thoughts being what would happen to the man you loved. Gabby told you how bad he'd gotten about Shay had been killed. You didn't want him falling in that hole. "Hey don't talk like that. You'll be fine. Your anniversary is in two weeks you'll be on your feet by then" 

Matt's hand found yours and gripped it tight. You could hear voices and knew everyone was working their way to you.

Kelly was fighting to get inside to your side but Boden called him back "You'll be in the way. Let them get her out then you can ride with them to med" it took everything in him to not argue. The moment he saw Cruz and Capp emerge he ran to your side feeling himself weaken when he saw how severely injured you were.

"Hey baby" you managed weakly as he climbed into the ambulance next to you while Gabby worked to stop the flow of blood. "Hey beautiful" he said with a smile that was marred by the tears flowing down his face. Every bump the ambulance hit caused a grimace to flash across your face. "Kelly I don't want to die" you whispered right as your grip on his hand loosened and the heart monitor on you flat lined. 

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

"If love could have saved Y/N she would have lived forever. Love from her aunt and uncle who raised her, from her family at firehouse fifty one and from her loving boyfriend. Sadly fate as it seemed had other plans. We don't know why she was taken from us so soon and as we grieve today may the loving warmth of her spirit live on in all of us she held close" 

Kelly sat in the front of the church staring at the photo of you that had been chosen. Those eyes he loved looking into that never opened again after you whispered how you didn't want to die. That smile that always made even his worse day better that he'd never see again. He never got to ask you to marry him. He never got to see you pregnant with his child. He'd never get to tell you again just how much you meant to him.

He'd love you every day for the rest of his life. If only he could manage to love you back to this world then maybe his heart wouldn't feel like it had been ripped out his chest the moment you took your last breath.

[keikaru]

Valediction

Listless after the war, Felix wanders across the continent with a bleak outlook. He returns to Garreg Mach—presumably to tie up any loose ends—but Bernie and Seteth persuade him to stay and work for the Fódlan Postal Company.

While the war was harsh, assimilating to civilian life was harder. He would try if it meant seeing Sylvain again.

----

Originally posted on A03 but deleted it because I believe I could improve the quality later on. Personally, I think the story lacks some panache, so when it returns, I hope it meets my own expectations! Here’s the first draft if you’re still interested. Rest assured, I WILL revamp this story. 

A Violet Evergarden AU. First draft under the cut.

Tags: Assimilating to Civilian Life, Post-Time Skip, Crossover, Fluff and Angst, Felix basically becomes an Auto Memory Doll, Pining, Suicidal Thoughts, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Characters Tags to Be Added 

-----

Felix continued wearing gloves because he knew the red stains would never leave his hands.

A metallic scent always permeated through the air; the phantoms of war did not let go of his sword. Even vestiges of the past hid in mirrors and shadows, following him whenever he traveled to snowcapped lands or to fields of grass that resembled the ocean.  

No matter how far he traveled, the whispers of war, blood, and regret would remain with him.  

Where to then? He wondered exhaustedly. If he could not outpace his demons, what was there to do but return to the start?

He traveled for too long that even Garreg Mach seemed so far away.

Garreg Mach. The Officers Academy. Places he hasn’t stepped foot in after the war ended.

If he saw a glimpse of the Professor—the archbishop , he amended—perhaps the ghosts of war would be laid to rest. If he went back to the beginning, maybe he could make amends and disappear for a final time.

So he made up his mind.

Quite possibly, he thought, finally realizing how tense his body was, the boar, no… Dimitri would stop haunting him. Maybe Ingrid’s melancholic eyes would stop gazing at him. Maybe Glenn would stop appearing in the mirror. And maybe, just maybe Sylvain was…

No . He stopped his line of thought. There was no use indulging in the past. Nothing but painful memories awaited him.

Minutes passed before Felix unclenched his hands and slackened up.

How much longer would he live life, simply to endure it? It was enough for him to feel sick to his stomach. But perhaps it would all stop if he went back to the beginning.

…

So Felix traveled.

Despite the arduous journey, he somehow felt lighter. Calmer. As if invigorated by the prospect of returning. Not to a home, but to a memory he was fond of.

During the last week of the Great Tree Moon, Felix Hugo Fraldarius arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery.

Felix stood on the bridge that connected itself to the inner town. He shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight and observed the skylarks that flew over him. Their song carried in the wind as he walked, taking slow but measured steps through the iron wrought gates and into the bustling marketplace.

It was disorienting when he passed a group of giggling children, past colorful merchant stalls. The fresh scent of bread wafted throughout the square and it reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in hours.  

Pausing in front of a modest vendor, Felix called for the shopkeeper.

“Excuse me—” he stopped, realizing how hoarse he sounded. A quick swig of water. It was enough to replenish his voice.

Being a polite person was different from talking with one’s sword. He always had a habit of pointing to menus and never bothered with small talk.

Today, he remembered that he had to be a Person and not a Mercenary For Hire.

And yet he found himself forgetting how to speak. As if he cut off a part of himself the moment he left his noble title behind.  

“How can I help—ah, pardon my manners, um, sir! Sir Felix, err, Lord Felix.”

The man quickly bowed, and Felix only stared, puzzled by the sudden formality. It had been forever since someone addressed him by the title of sir or lord.

The seller then straightened himself and continued, with a relieved expression on his face.

“I’m glad that you’re alive. I wondered where you disappeared to after the war ended.”

Felix gave the man a doubtful look and paused.

“…have we met?” The swordsman handed a few marks of bronze to the seller and pointed to a loaf of bread, cheese, and a slab of jerky. The man bagged his meal and Felix took it from him with a curt nod. “Thanks.”

As Felix turned to leave, the seller spoke up again.

“You saved my life,” the seller spoke solemnly, taking off his cap. Felix stilled. He imagined the sincerity on the man’s face as he listened. “For that, I’m grateful. Even if you don’t remember, I still wanted to thank you. May the Gods bless you, sir.”

Without another word, Felix raised a parting hand and left.

In truth, Felix did not remember the man. It was more accurate to say he did not remember much during and after those five years of war.

Now that it was over, little else seemed to matter to him. Often, he felt like a ghost that wandered for far too long. It was enough for him to take a lengthy swig from a different canteen. Alcohol was not his favorite, but the bitterness that burned in his throat helped him forget.

Somewhere near the town square and under the shade of an elderly tree, he found an empty spot. Felix then ate his meal in silence. Minutes passed and he was satisfied. He wrapped up the remainders and placed it inside his bag. With a stretch, he rested against the trunk of the pine and crossed his arms over his chest.

As the wind threaded through his hair, he listened to the quiet ambience of the town. Tranquility was a quality he used to think he wanted. But now, tranquility seemed to translate to idleness.

Like now , he thought, debating where to go next.

He closed his eyes. If anything, a quick rest would do him good. The moment he counted to ten, he promised to stand up and find an inn.

…

And just like that, he then opened his eyes and realized the sky was now a soft orange.  

Ah shit . He thought blearily, straightening himself. The third time.

During all those years of traveling, it was rare for him to lower his guard. Yet somehow, he felt no signs of danger.

My senses have dulled then.

He glanced to his left. Just as he suspected, his worn bag was still beside him, seemingly untouched. It wasn’t as if he carried anything valuable except his sword.

Speaking of which, he glanced to his right. His sword was beside him. He sighed, relieved that nothing went missing.

“Felix? Are you finally awake?”

Instantly, he snapped his head toward the source and unsheathed his sword.

“What do you want?” he positioned himself into a fighting stance. Felix narrowed his eyes and berated himself. He was foolish enough to forget himself.

Ambushes could happen at any time.

“H-Hey, wait! It’s me—” the voice squeaked out, with a familiar nervous quality to it— “it’s Bernie! So please, put your sword away!”

Just like that, the sword returned to its scabbard.

The young woman before him was indeed the same girl he knew from back then. The shy, reserved daughter of Count Varley.

“Oh,” he deadpanned. “Why?”

“Wha—you ask why ?!” baffled, she huffed at him. “At the very least, you could ask how I’m doing. You haven’t changed much, have you?”

Felix lowered himself to the ground, sitting against the tree trunk again and gathered his belongings. “OK. How are you?” But then he switched topics, choosing to ignore how she flailed her arms because of his curtness. “By the way, where’s the nearest inn?”

“The nearest inn huh,” she murmured; her eyes lingered on the sword at his side. A bit of the blade poked from its scabbard and gleamed dully in the light. The expression in her eyes changed. It appeared melancholic. “Hey Felix,” she started quietly, “did you know that—"

She realized that Felix was busy fastening his bag around himself and counting the bronze and silver marks in his hand. Bernadetta paused and allowed a soft sigh.

“Something wrong?” Felix spoke, somewhat absentmindedly. He stood up, pocketed his money, and brushed off the dust on his pants. He double checked his gear. “You’re too quiet.”

Bernadetta held her hands behind her back and smiled at him. Felix inquired back with a stare.

Now she was acting odd.

Finally, he noticed how she wore an outfit that resembled a uniform. It was not the one from the Officer’s Academy but a different type.

While he was curious, he wasn’t that intrigued.

“Actually, follow me,” she piped up, turning around and vaguely gesturing at the tall brick buildings in the back. She adjusted the cap on her head. “It’s a bit of a walk but I can guarantee the place is cheaply priced.”

“Ah. Thanks then.”

He followed her and realized how much the monastery changed. The merchants in the square bustled with enterprise and quality wares. Tea imported from regions unknown to him could be found here, along with other artisan goods and regal weapons. Before leaving Garreg Mach again, he wished to see if any of Zoltan’s weapons made their way into a blacksmith’s hand.

He looked in front of him. The architecture remained largely the same, but some of the brickwork stuck out like efforts of reconstruction. Bernadetta suddenly turned, and he followed suit, wondering how much further was left.

Felix was relieved that the silence between them was companionable. Occasionally, she pointed out a few new landmarks and he was enthralled by the changes throughout the town. Fountains, lampposts, well-tended topiaries—Garreg Mach transformed much while he was away.

It somehow left him with a sense of awe and nostalgia. Except one thing gnawed at his chest.

Most of the faces he knew before—they no longer stood beside him.

…

They continued passing corners and streets and crossed a bridge. Soon, Bernadetta stopped.

Felix looked elsewhere and abruptly halted, nearly colliding into her back.

“Cheap huh?” He said, marveling at the sight before him. He could see why she stopped.

A dark bricked manor house towered above him, with long windows winking back the afternoon light. In front of the gray stone steps was a small crowd of people that varied from nobles and commoners alike.

Felix squinted at them.

Most seemed to be holding something in their hands. It appeared to be scraps of paper.

“Let’s go.” Bernadetta ambled forth, passing the iron gates and flowerbed. She paused and waited for him. “Seteth’s been waiting for you ever since we spotted you dozing at the square.”

“Excuse me?” Felix gaped at the marvelous building. He was certain that was not here years ago. His mind was unable to process her words. “You said cheap lodgings. This. This isn’t—” he gestured at the opulence and swiveled around, his back turned against the building. He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “OK. Well, I saw an inn before we rounded the corner and—”

“Felix,” Berndetta spoke firmly, “I want you to stay here.”

A beat of silence.

He couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, perplexed by her sudden change in demeanor.

Before he could speak, Bernadetta spoke up without her usual reserve.

“How long have you been wandering the continent? Because your eyes…I know that look.”

“You’re asking me that now?” there was no heat behind his words. Only a familiar exhaustion found its way into his voice.

Felix slowly turned around and approached her, with arms folded across his chest. Her gray eyes locked onto his and they gazed at each other.

Bernadetta did not flinch. She only inquired him with her silence.

Unusually enough, he relented.

“For too long,” he admitted, glancing over her head and toward the manor house. “Well, what is it then? Why did you bring me here?”

She let out a lengthy sigh and seemed to loosen up. He didn’t realize how tense she had been throughout their walk.

“This is the Fódlan Postal Company.”

Another familiar voice segued into their conversation. Felix glanced to his right and saw a figure emerge from behind a topiary. Seteth stepped out, greeting the former students with a stern but noticeably softer look on his face. Seteth hadn’t changed after all of these years, but he wore a uniform similar to Bernadetta’s.

“Felix, I want you to work here as an Auto Memory Doll.”

“You’re kidding,” Felix managed out weakly. The sudden proposal made no sense. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ll learn then.” Seteth offered, waving a hand at his words.

“I didn’t agree to this.”

“It’ll be worth your while.” Seteth was already walking in the direction of the entrance. “Come along, Felix.”

Felix countered one last time. “You can’t be serious.”

Felix looked to Bernadetta for help. Of course, it was a mistake. She only grabbed onto his arm, her eyes sparkling as she persuaded him.  

“The lodging is free if you work here.”

“That isn’t the issue !”

Felix lost track of how many sighs he heaved that day. Unable to shake off Bernadetta, he reluctantly acquiesced and allowed himself to be dragged toward the building. A series of foul words clouded his thoughts as he passed the crowd and made his way toward the interior of the building.

Under different circumstances, he would have been impressed. Under different circumstances, he would gone more willingly. But this welcoming committee—if one could dare call it that—was so adamant about receiving him.

If anything, it felt like the past when Sylvain forced him into town for some skirt chasing. Like how Ashe insisted him to read tales of chivalry, like how Lysithea tried to bribe him with sweets, or how with Annette—

The past huh , he mused dryly. He found himself standing inside the foyer, wearily eyeing the double spiral staircases and the long window panes. As beautiful and ornate as it was, their definition of a “postal service” was greatly different from his own.

And yet…the figures that descended resembled people he knew from his academy days.

“Felix? Felix, is that really you?”

A young man with gray-brown bounded down the steps, eager to meet him. When the stranger brushed his hair out of his eyes, Felix recognized who he was.

Ashe?  

Lord Lonato’s son was before him. He smiled at Felix, with a relieved look on his face.

“You promised to write. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“There’s no such thing as a permanent address as a mercenary,” Felix replied stiffly, somewhat taken aback. “Your letters—they would have returned to you.”

“But you’re here now,” Ashe said again, with a gentler look on his face. “And hey, I’m glad you’re OK.”

Felix was at a loss for words. Instead, he looked elsewhere, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden warmth and reception from his appearance.

Seteth and Bernadetta looked at each other and smiled. They didn’t speak but only watched as Felix rubbed the back of his neck while Ashe continued to speak to him.

Just then, more figures descended the staircase. Felix struggled to recall who they were, but the moment they stood in front of him, their names entered his memory.

Marianne, Ignatz, Linhardt.

Yuri and Dorothea.

They were all members of the academy in some way, even if he wasn’t close to them, he still recognized them.  

Felix felt his chest tightened. A well of emotion opened. He felt something, but it was a strange something that left him feeling more melancholic than joyful.

He blinked, not once, not twice, but three times. Aside from the smiling faces and animated conversations, he could have sworn he saw phantoms behind them.

And they watched him with somber eyes.

“Felix? You look like you just saw a ghost,” Dorothea piped up, glancing at him with concerned eyes. “You must be tired. Seteth, isn’t there a spare room upstairs?”

“There is. Bernadetta, could you show Felix his room?”

She replied quickly. “Follow me!”

With a gentle nudge from her, Felix followed. He managed to recompose again.

Soon, they reached a rosewood door with a gold handle. Bernadetta unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter. Felix did.  

It was minimally furnished. The windows were across from the door, with a desk underneath. A bed was pushed into the left corner while the right side had a dresser and a mirror.

Bernadetta stood inside the room, pausing a little before the dresser on the right side. Her eyes roamed the room for a bit before catching Felix’s reflection in the mirror.

The faraway look in Felix’s eyes, the way he mechanically moved toward the window—it was plain to see that he was deeply contemplating something.

She hesitated to ask, but at the same time, she recalled how he vanished without a trace. Rumors of Felix’s whereabouts only amplified when a sword that resembled his own appeared on Margrave Gautier’s doorstep.

By chance, she delivered some correspondence to Sylvain that day. He started to entertain her until another parcel arrived.

She remembered how his eyes exuded a grief beyond words, that the one Sylvain cherished was not immune to a mortal fate.

While the rumors of Felix’s death proved false, the way the mercenary was now…he might as well resemble death.

It pained her to see him become a husk of a person.

If anything, it would anguish Sylvain even more after seeing Felix in this state. When the time was right, she would pen a letter to him again.

On some level, she understood how Felix felt, even if just a fraction of it.

Assimilating into civilian life was difficult. For part of their youth, they learned tactics and strategies, artillery and battle formations. From operating catapults to forging stronger weapons, it was such a stark contrast when she started ghostwriting and delivering letters.  

And yet…it made her rediscover her love for writing again.

Clearing her throat, she found the courage to approach Felix.

He stood near the window, steeped in hues of twilight. Felix tilted his head up and observed something she couldn’t quite see. She couldn’t help but feel mesmerized.  

“Seteth will see to the details tomorrow. So for today, focus on resting.”

“Alright.”

Before Bernadetta left, she spoke softly to him.

“And welcome back, Felix. You don’t have to feel alone anymore.”

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

And It All Came Tumbling Down Part 3

Request: Reader getting people out to safety gets hurt really badly and trapped, and Bruce has to save her

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Female!Reader, Dick Grayson

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: Graphic injuries, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: During a work party a call comes in that the Joker has planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham. You’re tasked with clearing your building when the unthinkable happens.

A/N: Thank you all for the love you’ve given this series, and I hope you like this last part! If you’ve enjoyed this series, I’ve got a question at the end of the chapter that I’d like some feedback to if you’re so inclined!

Part 3 of 3

Part 1   Part 2

You were falling. Down, down, down into never-ending darkness. There was a light up above. So faint it was barely discernible, but it was there. It led to safety but it was forever out of reach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't grasp it. 

You screamed but water flooded your lungs. It burned, choking you even as you fought for a breath. 

The light above flickered out. 

Something was covering your mouth, you could feel it pressing against your skin. You scrabbled at it desperately wanting to get it off as panic set in. 

"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N. It's okay, you're okay." A voice spoke from somewhere up above, a warm hand coming to rest over your own. You recognized it. 

Blinking your eyes open everything was blurry and unfocused. Someone was hovering over you though, and slowly Bruce came into focus, smiling down at you softly. 

"Hey, baby," he said quietly, his free hand reaching for something over your head before coming down to brush some hair off your forehead. 

You tried to say something back, what, you weren't entirely certain but something, but even thinking of words felt like effort, like your mind was filled with fog and you couldn't quite find what you needed. Gradually your surroundings were becoming more clear though. 

You were in a hospital if the quiet beeping of machines were anything to go by. A private room. A nice one. There were flowers next to your bed. Your favorites. The thing over your mouth was an oxygen mask. You'd been trying to yank it off when Bruce had stopped you. Bruce… 

He was still talking to you, nothing important, just quiet little things to keep you calm and comforted. He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, he hadn't shaved in several days, and there was a nasty looking gash slicing along one side of his jaw. He still had a hand over yours, fingers entwined now. 

You managed a smile at him, and the worry in his eyes instantly faded some. You tried to take the mask off with your other hand, wanting to try and say something again but found that it was covered in a cast that went up to your elbow. Oh. 

How hurt were you? Was that the reason for Bruce's worry? You couldn't feel any pain, but you couldn't feel much of anything other than a dull ache in your chest. The fall. The water. Anything could've broken. Was that why you couldn't feel? 

"Shh, you're okay." Bruce must've seen the panic rise again. "The Doctor will be here in a minute to explain everything."

He seemed so certain that it was impossible to not believe him. As long as he was next to you, you could deal with anything anyway. 

The Doctor came in soon after just like Bruce had said, and checked you over before asking some simple questions. It was still an effort to speak, but you managed and he seemed happy enough. You noticed Bruce's shoulders relax some. 

You were told you were lucky. That the falls you took could've been enough to kill you on their own, without the additional injuries. The worst had been the wound to your side. The second fall had ripped it out, doing worse damage, but the Doctor assured that they'd managed to repair it, and there was nothing to worry about. On top of that, there had been two head wounds, which explained the questions, several broken ribs and hairline fractures, a broken forearm, a torn knee ligament, a punctured lung, and enough scrapes and bruises that there were more damaged areas than not. 

After that, you weren't really surprised when he said about the amount of painkillers you were on to keep you comfy.

Bruce thanked the Doctor when he was done with a shake of the hand, then returned to his seat next to your bed, your hand in his once again. 

When you were alone, you smiled at him again. "You got to me."

"Told you I would," Bruce smiled back, kissing the back of your hand gently. 

"What happened?" You asked, motioning to the cut on his face. 

"This? Sharp piece of rubble. I've had worse."

You nodded, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment while you enjoyed the comfort of just having Bruce next to you. 

"The others? Did they get out?" 

"Yeah. There were a few minor injuries, but that's it. You saved them."

It didn't feel that way, but it was a relief to hear. "Joker?" 

"Tracked him down the night after and sent him back to Arkham."

"Thank God." You slumped into the bed, not noticing how tense you'd been. Everything was okay now. You were alive, Bruce was there. You needed to talk but it could wait. 

"You should get some rest." Bruce must've seen you were still exhausted and leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

"You too. Look awful."

"Thanks," Bruce chuckled. "I'll get some sleep later. Focus on yourself."

"'kay." Closing your eyes again, you kept Bruce's hand in yours as you drifted off back to sleep.

~

The following days were mostly a blur of slipping in and out of consciousness. Bruce was there every time, occasionally joined by Alfred or Dick. You talked a little to them, but mostly it was still too much effort, and easier to just slip back off into sleep again. 

The next time you woke, you ached. The Doctors had been reducing some of your pain meds and you were starting to feel it. For a moment you thought you were by yourself for once, but a rustle of paper had you looking to the corner of the room to see Dick sitting there reading a book. 

It was the first time you'd seen him by himself since you first came to. 

"Hey," you said, drawing his attention. "What you doing over there?" 

"Didn't want to disturb you," he answered, marking the page he was on then set the book down. 

You smiled gently and held out your good arm towards him. "Come here." Waiting until he moved around to sit by your side, you asked, "How are you?" 

"Okay."

"Sure? You don't look so certain."

Dick nodded, "Yeah. Just glad you're awake. You were out for so long, I didn't know-" his voice cracked when he cut himself off, looking down at his hands. 

"I'm gonna be fine, Dick."

"I know, I just…can't lose you too."

Your heart broke for him right then and used what strength you had to tug him in for a hug. It was awkward, holding yourself at an angle that didn't hurt too much was a strain, but it was worth it to feel his arms around you, being so careful not to squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."

"You nearly did." Dick's voice was quiet when he pulled away, letting you relax again. "I got to the roof where B had you, and you weren't moving. You weren't breathing! And Bruce…I've never seen him like that."

"Like what?" 

"Scared. He didn't say anything, but I could see it. He thought he'd lost you too."

It was difficult to know what to say to that. Dick wasn't the only one who'd never seen Bruce scared. He'd always been unshakeable, the one to spread the fear not feel it, so it was a difficult image to conceive. Maybe Dick had just been projecting, looking to see his own fear in someone else. Because it just didn't make sense for Bruce to be scared. Why would he? 

The things you'd been feeling before the attack had faded, lost to the pain and fear and then the relief of being alive, but now they were trickling back, feeling like lead in your stomach. Bruce would've been concerned for your safety, sure. Just like he was concerned for every civilian's safety. But you couldn't shake the feeling that was as far as it went. Being scared would suggest feelings you weren't entirely sure he had for you. 

Dick must've noticed something because he was frowning, "Are you okay?" 

Shaking yourself out of it, you nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Still a little out of it I guess."

He looked far from convinced, but the concern made you smile. Bruce had taken him in before you two had gotten together, but there'd always been a connection between Dick and you. Perhaps that was why Bruce had originally asked you out. It made sense. 

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Bruce knocked and entered the room carrying a fresh bunch of flowers. 

"Hey, you're awake," he smiled, setting the flowers down before leaning over to kiss your forehead. 

"Came to a little while ago. Dick and I have been catching up." You avoided Bruce's eyes when you spoke, something he didn't fail to miss. 

Digging into his pocket, Bruce pulled out his wallet and handed Dick some cash. "Give us a minute?" 

Dick looked between you both for a moment, then nodded and tucked the money away. He gave you another quick hug, then exited the room, probably off in search of food. 

Bruce waited for the door to click shut, then sat down wearily, tugging the knot of his tie loose as he did so. The dark circles under his eyes had faded some over the last week, and he'd shaved now, but he still looked a little worse for wear. He was watching you, or studying more like, taking in every detail, trying to figure out what you were thinking. "I'm sorry."

That wasn't what you'd expected him to say. "For what?" 

"Everything. For ditching the party, for asking you to be the one to get people out. For putting you in danger. You nearly died because of me."

He was sincere, you could see it in his eyes. He meant every word, harbored the guilt. Only it made your own guilt worse. "Not your fault. Didn't tell me to stay behind."

"You did exactly what I would've done. Saved all those people. But you shouldn't have been in the position to make that choice. That's on me."

"No. Bruce, it's not. No one forced me, and like…like you said, it's what you would've done."

"You aren't me though, Y/N."

"I wanted to be! I thought...I thought if-" You cut yourself off, turning your head away from him. 

"Thought what?" When you didn't answer, Bruce took your hand, squeezing it gently. "Talk to me, please."

"I...thought…I thought if I was like you…I'd be a hero too and you'd think I was important." The final words came out rushed, heat spreading across your cheeks at the admission. 

"Y/N…" Bruce's hand was on your face, guiding it back to look at him. He looked wounded, "Why would you not be important?" 

"Because you never forget important things."

You could see the realization dawn in his eyes and would've turned away again if it wasn't for Bruce's hand still on your face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, "You're important. You always have been. I fucked up, I know I did, but I love you, more than I ever could say. Never think otherwise, please."

It was impossible not to believe him. The genuine sincerity, the pain, the love, it was all there, plain to see. That openness, the vulnerability he so rarely showed, along with what he said, made you nod. "Okay."

Bruce smiled softly and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I don't have an excuse for forgetting, but I want you to know that I didn't. Not completely. I knew it was coming up, I bought a gift, then, the days got so muddled between work and patrols, I just didn't realize it had come up so quick. It won't happen again.”

You believed him. It still stung, but it was understandable. And at least he hadn’t entirely forgotten. “Always next year to make sure things go better.”

“Yeah. But if you'll have me, I can rearrange what I planned this year. Just go a little later."

"Go where?" 

"To Rome. I arranged for us to have a weekend there for your birthday."

"Rome?" 

"You said you always wanted to go."

You were about to protest, say that you'd never told him that, then you remembered. A couple of years ago you'd told him a board member wasn't available since he'd gone on vacation to Rome, and mentioned in passing that you were jealous and wanted to go. Bruce hadn't acknowledged it at the time, and you'd assumed he'd been too preoccupied with paperwork to pay attention. Apparently, he had been. "You remembered that?" 

"I remember the important things."

The words shouldn’t have hit hard, but they did, and you could feel the tears burn at your eyes. It was such a dumb thing to cry over, but there you were, crying because he’d noticed one small fact. Maybe it was because you were still exhausted from everything, or maybe it was because it smashed all the thoughts you’d been having to pieces. 

“What’s wrong? We can go somewhere else if you want? Back to France, or somewhere else altogether.” Bruce had moved from his seat and was kneeling on the floor in front of you so he was as close as he could be, gently reaching forward to brush the tears away.

“No. No, Rome is perfect. It’s just...I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bruce stretched, letting his forehead rest against yours, a hand slipping to idly stroke your hair. 

You wished he could be next to you, that you could feel his arms around your waist, but the bed was too small, and though the two of you probably could’ve squashed on, it would’ve hurt. 

At least he was there, you still had him and he had you, and for the moment, that was enough.

~ 

The room was dark when you awoke with a start, cold beads of sweat coating your skin. Your breaths came in harsh ragged pants, loud in the silence. 

You'd been home a week now, and so far the nightmares had stayed at bay. Until tonight. Tonight you'd found yourself trapped all over again, falling endlessly, freezing water forcing its way in your body. Bruce was above you, yelling your name, but unable to reach you. Knowing now how scared he'd been that night made it all so much worse. 

You sighed, using your good arm to sit yourself up in the bed. The space next to you was empty and undisturbed. Not surprising. You'd talked Bruce into going back out on patrol again. He'd been by your side since your return to the manor, and while you appreciated it, you'd convinced him that a return to normality would be for the best. 

Now you wished you hadn't. 

Your injured leg protested as pushed yourself out of the bed, though it settled down once you were steady, the knee brace doing its job well, and headed into the bathroom. You could always text Bruce. He'd be home in a flash if you needed him, but the city needed him too. And it was late enough that it probably wouldn't be long before he returned anyway. 

Splashing some water on your face, you looked yourself over in the mirror. There'd been no nightmares, but you hadn't slept much either, content most nights to just lay in Bruce's arms, and it showed. Tomorrow. You’d sleep tomorrow when Bruce was back home and you could spend the day in bed together. It'd be nice. 

Not really wanting to do anything, and not wanting to risk disturbing Alfred when he was watching over Bruce and Dick, you decided to just head back to bed. Sleep would evade you until Bruce was home, but at least you could be comfy. The full-length mirror in the bedroom stopped you in your steps first. It glinted in the moonlight that filtered through the gap in the curtains, drawing your attention to it. 

You clicked a light on and stood in front of it, taking in the full length of your body. The brace was kinda clumpy so shorts had been your best sleep option, and an old t-shirt belonging to Bruce was comfy enough to cover the rest of you. The cast on your arm was still there, though by now it was covered in graffiti of little birds thanks to Dick. Raising the shirt you could see bruises that were now almost faded, and the lesser of the cuts nearly gone, with just slight discoloration where the new skin had grown to mark their presence. 

Then, of course, there was the bandage on your side, masking the stitches that lay beneath. They'd be coming out soon, and then you'd be able to see the scar for the first time. You'd already been warned that it wouldn't be pretty. The exact opposite. 

It was the first time you'd really stopped to look at yourself, to take in everything that had happened. You touched the bandage gently, fingers ghosting over it. 

You'd gotten lucky. Way too lucky. By all rights, you should've died. 

Fuck. 

The thought slammed into you. 

In the weeks since you'd come to you hadn't stopped to think about that, too busy reassuring everyone that you were fine and alive. You'd come so close to dying. By all rights, you had died. You knew the trouble Bruce had getting you breathing again. If it hadn't been for him…

"You should be in bed."

You turned sharply to see Bruce in the doorway, dressed in sweats and t-shirt, home for the night. 

The tremble spread through your body, legs shaking as you tried to keep upright. "Bruce…" Your voice came out quiet, cracking at the first sob that wracked its way through your chest. 

Your legs gave out from under you, but instead of hitting the floor there were arms around you, pulling you into a solid chest. 

It only made you cry harder. 

Bruce held you to him, letting you sob into his shirt, whispering to let it out as one hand rubbed your back. You clung to him, as though you'd fall away if you didn't. 

"'M'sorry," you mumbled when you could finally speak again. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing." Bruce kissed the top of your head, and moved you both to the bed, being careful of your injuries, but still making sure you were against his chest. He had you propped up, back to his front. 

You twisted slightly so you could bury your face in his neck.  "I stopped breathing." Bruce's arms tightened a fraction around you, and you didn't need to see his face to know he was schooling his own reactions. "If you hadn't saved me, I…"

"I'm always going to save you. No matter what it takes."

Closing your eyes, you nodded. "I know. I do. It just-"

"Doesn't make what happened easier."

"Yeah."

Bruce ran a hand over your arm, letting you both sit in silence for a minute. It was nice. Having him there calmed you. You never felt safer than when you were like this. "If you want, if it'll help, I can get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. Best in the city," he said after a while. 

It was a perfectly sensible idea, one that wasn't unappealing, but it made you cringe nonetheless. "You've been through worse and don't need to see one," you whispered. 

Bruce shifted and lifted your head, "Y/N, I run around dressed as a bat. I think there are plenty who'd say I need to see one."

You couldn't help it. You laughed. For the first time in weeks, you laughed. It was absurd, to hear everything Bruce did be minimized down to that, especially from him, and that's what made the whole thing so funny. It must've triggered something in Bruce too because he was laughing with you, and for a few minutes everything felt normal again. 

The two of you came down slowly, Bruce playing with your hair as he smiled at you. "So, do you? Want an appointment?" 

You nodded. "Please. Think I need some help with it all."

"Okay." The total lack of judgment in Bruce's eyes made it all the easier to admit to wanting help. "I'll look into in the morning."

"Thank you."

"Anything for you." Bruce kissed you and it was easy to lean into it, to let him guide it and pull a quiet moan from you. 

You broke apart and Bruce smiled, brushing some hair from your face. "Hold on a second. I've got something." He pulled away carefully and reached into one of the drawers by the side of the bed. When he returned, he handed you an envelope. "I was going to wait and take you to dinner first, but…"

You opened the envelope, pulling out the two slips of paper that lay inside. Tickets to Rome. The date was for a couple of months, enough time for you to finish healing. It was the return date that made you raise an eyebrow. "These are for a week."

"I think Gotham can survive a week. It still has Robin and if anything happens the jet can have us back in a few hours."

"You sure?" 

"Yeah. I'm sure."

A grin crept its way onto your face, tucking the tickets back away so you could wrap an arm around his shoulders. It hurt a little but compared to everything else it was nothing, and for the moment you couldn't care less. You were happy and excited, and utterly in love with a man who obviously loved you back. 

Bruce returned the grin and kissed you again. 

Things were going to be okay. 

A/A/N: Hey! So while the main story of this series is done, I’m considering doing a bonus chapter set between parts 2+3. It’ll be Batman and Robin tracking down Joker and taking him in. Basically, I want to write about a Very Mad Bat, and this seemed like the best way to do it! So if that’s something you want to see, let me know!

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