#why does it have to be either 'this movie is too political!' or 'this movie didn't solve every issue of feminism!'

[slutabed]

idk what’s going on but i am like unwell today lmao. last night i was like running a mild fever, but i took a covid test yesterday and again today and they’ve been negative. i took a nap yesterday that turned right into me falling asleep for about 14 hours, so i missed my lexapro, so i’ve been getting brain zaps all day today and had to lay down again tonight bc i’m too dizzy to do anything else.

i wanted to get ahead on some work for the school year or even just like. write some fanfic tonight but i just watched a taylor swift music video and started crying and then opened up tumblr to see a pic of steve and robin that made me start WEEPING. like. unwell levels of emotion.

i started birth control about a week ago so idk if that’s my problem??? if i’m just overwhelmed rn with emotions?? but i’m just :(((((((( and i don’t like it

[transrevolutions]

While overall I felt like the tbosas movie was well done, there's one part that really bothered me. When Sejanus gets involved with the rebels in the book, he's fully on board, stealing them ammo and weapons from the base, and planning to hold guards at gunpoint to free the prisoners. In the movie, however, he just wants to run away and then is surprised and upset by the fact that the rebels were planning an act of violence.

This doesn't seem like a major change, but from a political standpoint (as tbosas is a very political book), it's a big one and one I very much do not like.

In the text, Sejanus plays the role of the moral compass. Whereas both Coriolanus and Lucy Gray having complex and subjective motivations, Sejanus is always driven by wanting to do the right thing, even if it costs him. He acts as a baseline, keeping the readers from getting lost in endless loops of justification for atrocities just because Coriolanus's internal narration is rhetorically persuasive.

So when Sejanus (who up until this point has been relatively pacifist) joins up with the rebels in the book and agrees to participate in an act of revolutionary violence, the text is pointing out that that act of rebellion is morally permissible. That even violence against the oppressor class can be an altruistic action. Sejanus planning to fight the guards with the rebels is not a sign of his corruption, it's a sign of the fact that his society has become so corrupt that not doing it would be morally worse than doing it. After all, someone's going to die either way, so why not have it be the oppressors?

If movie!Sejanus is still occupying the role of the moral compass (which he seems to be), then his dismay at the possibility of the rebels using violence acts as a narrative condemnation of the violence, when the opposite is true in the book. The movie tries to make a distinction between the "good" dissenters (pacifist, nonviolent, morally superior) and the "bad" dissenters (violent radicals/terrorists). In the current political climate, this idea and narrative is extremely unsettling. And I'm disappointed they did this, but not surprised. Like the other Hunger Games movies, it was produced by a large media company, and they can't follow the satire of the book too closely lest people realize the fundamental irony of it. People in positions of power do not want to tell a story where violent activism is portrayed as moral--at least when it's against a society that obviously mirrors our own. (The brutalist architecture style is another complaint that I have, but that can be discussed in another post.)

Changing that seemingly small detail about Sejanus's involvement with the rebels doesn't do much to change the continuity of the storyline, but it does a lot to change the underlying message of his character and the story. This was almost certainly intentional, because the same sort of thing was done in the original trilogy movies as well. Companies are scared of subversive media because it makes them look like the 'bad guys' too, so they wrap rebellion in a lens of fantasy and moderatism.

[cupidsdolll]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; harry styles x fem!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; harry’s grumpy and y/n’s never had a valentines date

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

masterlist • talk to me! • request a valentines prompt

Y/N never really goes out unless she’s with her friend, Sarah and her boyfriend Mitch. It’s not that she has no reason, she just doesn’t like going alone. She doesn’t like being surrounded by large groups of people she doesn’t know, so the majority of the time she stay in her room surrounded her stuffed animals, wrapped up in her soft and fluffy blanket either reading a book or watching a movie.

The past two weeks all she ever heard is everyone’s plans or ideas for how they want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, whether it’s showering their significant other with presents and love, or simply choosing to spend the day with friends. While she’s happy for her friends, she doesn’t get the point. Why would you wait basically a year to show your partner love and spoil them, when you can just do that every day.

Some might she say she’s only grumpy because she’s never had a true valentines, only spending it by third wheeling Sarah and Mitch at home watching sappy rom-coms and eating as much junk food as her stomach can handle. She would honestly agree, she’s mainly grumpy because she hasn’t had the chance to experience that, but it still doesn’t make any sense!

Sarah’s been hinting at trying to get Y/N a Valentine’s but she doesn’t wanna go with someone she doesn’t know, it’d be even worse than third wheeling in her opinion. She refuses with a simple wave of her hand and a laugh, telling her she’d be too boring and they’d fall asleep at the table.

Sarah will laugh along, but she has a plan. She refuses to let her friend go without the joy of a date any longer! So she gathers Mitch after their lunch date and they begin their plan.

- - - -

Sarah’s been taking an oddly long time getting ready today, normally she only takes roughly thirty minutes to do her hair and makeup, but it’s taken her an hour and she’s still not done! Y/N knows something’s up by the way Sarah keeps giggling and looking at her dressed in her sweats and oversized hoodie, but she simply says she’s just happy.

A knock at the door disrupts Y/N’s thinking as she watches Sarah run to the door, she smiles lightly thinking it’s Mitch coming to pick her up. As she goes back to the kitchen to make her some water, she can faintly make out Sarah and Mitch’s voice as well as someone else’s.

She comes back out and stops in the doorway when she sees Harry with a small smile on his face. His hair looking as fluffy as always, his dimples prominent thanks to the smile he’s trying to hide. His muscles straining against his white dress shirt, and his black skinny jeans complimenting his toned legs and she swears she can feel the drool pooling in her mouth.

Conveniently Sarah turns around and spots her in the doorway, smiling even bigger somehow as she beckons her over.

“Y/N/N!! Look who’s here!” She says and Y/N sighs softly. As she heads over to the group, she can’t help but to trail her eyes over Harry’s physique once again, a small smile gracing her lips.

She gently pinches Sarah’s arm when she reaches the group as she gives everyone a hug. She can’t help but notice how tense Harry is when she wraps her arms around his frame.

She wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’ve always made polite small talk whenever they happen to be in the same room. She doesn’t understand why he’s always so short with her but can have a conversation for hours with Mitch. She doesn’t understand why he doesn’t like her, she hasn’t done anything!

She sighs as she removes herself from the awkward embrace and tugs on the ends of her hoodie sleeves, a habit she does whenever she gets anxious or overwhelmed. Stepping back, she smiles softly as they all engage in conversation.

“Y/N. Harry’s taking you for Valentine’s.” Sarah says and Mitch nods once in agreement. Her mouth parts and she stares at Harry, confusion etched on her face.

“Wha- no. Wait, huh?” She asks and Sarah laughs softly.

“Well you’re always complaining on how Valentines is such a shit holiday, and we wanted you to see how cute it can be, so we got H to do it so no strangers.” Mitch says and her eyes narrow at Sarah.

“This is some sick prank right?” She asks and they shake their heads.

“Wouldn’t do that you lovie.” Sarah says and she scoffs.

“Harry’s never even had a girlfriend! Why would he want to take me on a date? Are we forgetting Valentine’s is for couples, which we aren’t?” She says, a heat beginning to warm her cheeks in embarrassment as she shakes her head and tugs on her sleeves again.

“M’a nice person, Y/N.” Harry says as he fiddles with his rings, his voice soft as if he’s scared of angering her. She sighs softly as she looks up at her friends.

“You don’t even like me Harry. If this is something out of pity, I don’t want it. I’m perfectly fine doing what I always do.” She says and he nods.

“Go get dressed then.” He says, his voice just a tad deeper and she shivers as she nods absentmindedly and runs back to her room.

While she’s getting dressed, the three continue to have a conversation.

“You know where you’re taking her?” Sarah asks and he simply nods in response .

“You think she’ll like it?” Mitch asks and nods again

“Did you have to use that voice?” Mitch asks and Harry laughs.

“What voice?” Sarah asks and both of the guys laugh.

“His intimidation voice. Scares the crap out of the girls but they listen.” Mitch says

“She listened didn’t she?” Harry says with a small smile on his face.

A couple minutes later, Y/N comes out and Harry swears his heart stops. Now it’s not like he hasn’t thought she was attractive beforehand, he always thought she was pretty. But he has to be mean because he knows he’ll hurt her. She’s so sweet, so soft, so angelic, and he’s the complete opposite. She was right, he’s never had a girlfriend, he just wants to have fun and not be tied down. After all, he’s young, it’s not like he’s gonna be getting married in a couple years, so he sticks with his one night stands and aimless flirting with anyone who’ll fall for his charm.

But seeing her right now, her brown silk dress hugging her curves perfectly, her black heels wrapping around her toned calves, her hair styled in a sleek ponytail, and her jewelry shining when the light hit, a simple necklace with a small gem wrapped her neck, matching bracelets on both wrists and a couple small rings sit on her polished fingers.

Harry can feel a small nudge on his chest and turns to look at Mitch who has a smirk on his lips. Harry shakes his head and clears his throat.

“Y’look beautiful Y/N.” Harry says as a small smile appears on her plump glossy lips.

“Thank you, H. Didn’t tell you earlier but you look good too.” She says and he fights back a smile.

As they all walk out the door and to their respective cars, Y/N tugs on Harry’s belt loop as she signals him to come back. He steps back and they walk together a little further behind the other couple.

“Haz, I’m serious. If this is out of pity, I don’t need yours. Valentine’s isn’t even a big deal to me.” She says and he scoffs.

“M’serious Y/N. I’m a nice guy, and I want to do this. Stop overthinking, I don’t pity you. I want you to have at least one good date.” He says and rolls his eyes.

- - - -

As he pulls into the parking lot, he can hear her gasp from beside him and he chuckles. He parks the car and they both get out, heading to the door and he quickly opens the door to let her in.

They walk in and she sighs happily as the different foods blend into one delicious smell, he watches her warily, a smile threatening to form on his lips. They walk up to the register and order whatever they’d like and when asked for the name and card Harry quickly slides his card in and mentions his name, she frowns lightly as she watches everything go down.

The lady ends up eventually walking away and Y/N turns to Harry

“I could’ve paid for that.” In response she gets a frown.

“Have you forgotten? It’s technically our first date and I gotta treat ya.” He says and nudges her shoulder.

“Well thanks.” She says and nudges him back with a small smile on her face.

They stand back some as they wait for their food, talking about random topics when she clears her throat.

“H, I really am sorry for everything I’ve said today. I guess I just judged you because I was kinda hurt.. I had to watch you be all buddy buddy with Mitch and Sarah but act like you hate me.. it’s so confusing.” She says and he grabs her hand softly.

“I don’t hate you, at all. If anything I really like ya.” He says

- - - -

After they eat, Harry drives her to a small flower shop picking up everything she picks up. After creating a big bouquet of her favorites, he hands it to her with a shy smile.

“Harry.. what’s this?” She says

“Uh.. I read you’re supposed to give your date flowers in the first date.. and technically I was supposed to give them to you when I first walked in to pick you up, but I didn’t know what flowers you’d like..” he says as she watches his cheeks begin to turn pink.

She can’t fight the big smile that spreads across her face. She squeals as she wraps her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. She can feel him tense underneath her grasp, but she can’t be bothered. She’s just too happy! He actually put effort in researching what to do and wanted to be good for her.

She pulls away and smiles once again, taking in his flustered face and red cheeks, a downturned smile on his face as he scratches his neck.

“Um, you’re welcome.. I hope you liked it.” He says, his voice smooth and silky but she can tell he’s embarrassed.

“I loved it H. Thank you for this. Best Valentines ever.” She says and he smiles softly at her.

They spend the rest of the day chatting and walking around the town, enjoying each others company. He ends up carrying all her bags as they walk around, it reminds him of the celebrities and their security guards on a shopping spree.

As they head back, he reaches one hand over to her and hesitantly grabs her hand. She giggles quietly as she intertwines her fingers through his, and they drive in silence. She can’t help but daydream about them as she stares out the window, a dopey smile never leaving her face.

Once they reach her and Sarah’s apartment he opens the door and lets her in after she unlocks the door. She smiles and thanks him quietly, setting her keys in the bowl placed by the door on the small end table and he places all her bags in the living room. As soon as he sets her bags down both Mitch and Sarah emerge from Sarah’s bedroom, excitement written all over their face as they bombard them with questions about the date.

After answering their questions Harry turns to Y/N and nods his head towards the door. She nods and they both excuse themselves and head back outside, closing the door behind them and smiling at each other.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks and she nods.

“It’s gonna be hard to beat this mister. You ruined it for any other boy that tries, thank you again.” She says and he chuckles.

“That wasn't exactly my plan, I just wanted to show you what Valentine's is all about, that it isn't all that bad. You just have to share it with the right person. I had a good time tonight and I hope you enjoyed yourself as well. Tonight has shown me that I'm tired of ignoring you and being grumpy with you. If it's okay with you, I'd like for us to try all of this again.” He says and she smiles as she nods her head.

“Harry… can I kiss you? It’s the only proper way to end such an amazing date.” She asks and he nods.

He places his ringed hands on either side of her face and they both lean in slowly. She can smell the faint scent of the food he ate earlier combined with the mint of his gum he chewed earlier as his breath fans against her lips. He leans forward just slightly and they both smile as their lips touch, both soft and sweet. The kiss is nothing short of gentle and tender, only lasting for a minute max before he pulls away and kisses her nose.

Maybe Valentine’s isn’t so bad anymore.

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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[beloved-belittled]

Gods/Titans x Reader: Birthday Gift Headcanons

Characters: Shinnok, Raiden, Fujin, Liu Kang, Shang Tsung, Cetrion, Kronika 

A/N: Not me forgetting Shang Tsung was a Titan in the last one I did like this, *cough cough*. This is a lot fluffier than my usual content, enjoy!

TW: Nothing really, aside from maybe an implied yandere with a few characters.

18+ to interact.

Shinnok

Likely doesn't know when your birthday is, nor does he care to ask. He's existed since before the concept of time, so what's another year around the sun supposed to mean to him? You’ll accidentally tell him about your birthday too, thinking out loud while he's around. Like, “oh it's my birthday today” or “I wonder if my birthday's coming up.” To which, he'll scoff and ask why you care about such a thing. Mortals and their customs have always irked him to no end.

For that reason, you shouldn't expect a gift or anything special when your b-day does roll around. If Shinnok wishes to treat you he'll do it any day out of the year. And his treats are rare, so I recommend appreciating them when they come. 

If Shinnok was to buy you a gift, he'd consider his tastes more than your own. So that means receiving items he likes and you may not enjoy. This includes: literature in an unknown language, skulls or other trophies from his enemies, overly ornate jewelry or clothing, and even a fresh soul for decoration or consumption. Be sure to smile and thank him even if the present is… Undesirable. It'll save you some pain and maybe he'll get you something better next time.

Raiden

He hasn't asked when your birthday is simply to be polite. But, you'll likely tell Raiden at some point and he'll never forget the day. Like most characters on this list, he doesn't have a birthday himself to celebrate. He understands how important it is to mortals however, and will make an effort to impress you.

Raiden may not get you a gift for your birthday though. It's not because he doesn't care, but because he'd rather not incite rumors or other speculations in his followers. This is especially true if your relationship is secret or even forbidden. It pains him, but he binds himself to a certain standard for good reason. It's only if he became Dark Raiden, or if your relationship was open/public would he offer you a present.

Raiden isn't very much “in-touch” with mortals, so he would also base a gift on his preferences. He enjoys things that enrich the mind and offer more perspective on the world. Some examples are: classical literature/philosophy, historical records or artifacts, spiritual aids such as incense or other herbs, and potentially a jar of Jinsei only if you have max trust with him.

Fujin

He asks you about your birthday, and like his brother he doesn't forget. While he doesn't have a birthday either, he likely adopts a fake one just to connect with humans. So, he knows the importance of your b-day and will ponder what to give you months ahead of time.

He's the first of the characters here to consider your preferences over his own. He'll ask you a lot of probing questions to find out your likes, but he's rather smooth about it so you won't know the intent behind it. He also observes you and learns more about your hobbies, while also doing a little bit of research on them to see what would make a good present.

The type of gift he offers is dependent on you, but he'll aim for something affordable yet memorable. It's worth noting that he may also invest in an experience such as going to a certain city or place. For your birthday Fujin would like to take you to a local restaurant, see a movie or some form of theater, or bring you something you've always wanted. 

Also, please give this man a gift for his fake birthday. He will appreciate it.

Liu Kang 

He should have an idea of when you were born due to him crafting your destiny. But, he makes sure to ask so you're not surprised about him knowing when your birthday is. His god-like memory won't allow him to forget your birthday, and he plans ahead for it a crisp 11 months in advance. He needs the time, considering all of the duties on his plate.

Like Raiden, offering you a gift on your birthday may cause jealousy in the Wu Shi Academy. The last thing Liu Kang wants is for his subordinates to suspect he has some kind of favoritism towards you. However, he has little problem with your relationship being public if you're dating. So, if you're in a relationship with him you'll get a gift. If not, he'll just say “happy birthday" and recommend you take the day off.

He’s considerate of your tastes when scrounging up a present. At the same time, if he feels that giving you what you want would enable bad habits, (ex: behavioral addictions or an unhealthy lifestyle) then he'll resort to a more generic gift. Some examples include: birthday/gift card, baked goods, potted plant or gardening seeds, and candles.

Shang Tsung

He knows your birth date, home address, and banking information before you've even met him. He enjoys thoroughly researching his prey before acting, so he knows all the little details of your life. And once he's wrapped you around his little thumb, you happily spill to him when your birthday is. 

His gift is determined by your relationship with him. If he's in the early stages of wooing you, then he'll get whatever you love. His budget is the most lenient out of anyone here, so if you want something on the more expensive side you'll get it. He can be far too lavish with it as well, easily spending thousands of dollars to get what you desire. Of course, he'll keep reassuring you that such a paltry amount is nothing if it's for you…

If he has you under his control already, then he just gets a gift that will please him. He sees you as a little trophy to show off and tease all the time, so you can imagine what his gifts would be like. Fine silks, opulent jewelry, fancy furniture for you to lay on… If the gift is anything that visually stimulates him and shows off his power then he'll offer it to you.

Cetrion

She knows when your birthday is because she is nigh omnipresent. However, unlike everyone else in this list, she likely won't be able to spend time with you on your birthday. Cetrion would observe you from afar, in Heaven, unless you've already died or she's gained her freedom from Kronika. Still, that doesn't mean she won't do something special for your birthday.

Cetrion has to be a bit sneaky when giving you a gift. While other Gods have to worry about their mortal followers getting angry, she has to worry about the wrath of Elder Gods and a Titan. But, she's been playing this game for a long, long time. She has her methods of getting one or two things past without their notice.

Cetrion's gift involves her powers. She may grow a large and beautiful tree in your yard overnight. Or (especially if you garden) find all of your plants blooming and thriving. If there's a particular animal you've really wanted as a pet, it'll show up practically on your doorstep -begging you to adopt it. Alternatively, you may just wake up with a power you've never had, wondering when in the hell were you able to talk to animals or had a green thumb.

Kronika

She probably cares the least about a birthday, second to only her son Shinnok maybe. But unlike him, she's far more considerate of you once you're in a relationship. If you want to celebrate the passage of time, so be it. 

She sees herself as an artisan in a way, and would likely craft you a gift utilizing her powers. By the end of it, you may end up with a powerful artifact on the levels of Shinnok's Amulet or a Kamidogu. Naturally, whatever object she creates will be imbued with the power of time. Speeding up time, stopping time, reversing time -as long as it relates to chronokinesis she'll create it.

And although she'll put time (literally) and effort into a present, her most important gift to you would be her presence. She'll want to hang out with you like normal, simply enjoying each other's company and voice. Kronika makes for a surprisingly good partner on your b-day. She's swayed many people to her side and for good reason -she considers other people's thoughts and desires. Of course, this is all assuming you didn't break her heart.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Hello!!! If it’s okay may I request some hcs of Sol n Geo (separate) comforting their partner after the partner got off the phone after arguing with their parents and the convo made them cry? Sorry ESL so I hope things make sense ORZ

have a good day ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

A Pillar for your Palace (Sol + Geo x MC/Reader - Post-fight with Parents)

Sweetheart, genuinely, I hope you feel better after that incident (this isn't me pitying you btw).

And have a wonderful day as well love <33

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

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

You were pissed…no. Pissed didn’t cut it; you were wrath itself. You were ornery, annoyed, frustrated, upset…so much so, that you threw your phone into the wall, loudly cursing as you did so.

You balled your hands into fists, your lips quivering from the cathartic release. You’re fucking exhausted. Of everything. You hated how fucking riled up you got over them; how furious you were over your own flesh and blood, over your parents themselves.

You sank to the cold tiled floor of your kitchen, your eyes resting on the cracked glass of your phone and the dent that now remained in its side from the sheer brutality of the impact the wall had on it.

You felt hot tears pelt your thighs as you sniffled. 

“MC? MC, what happened?!”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sol would immediately hug you and wipe your tears with his hands. Hell he might even start crying too. 

He wouldn’t even have to guess why you were crying; it wasn’t like he’d never had parental issues himself, and he probably figured out you had familial issues if you hadn’t told him prior. (He totally wasn’t eavesdropping on your convo with them nooooo).

Depending on the argument you had, Sol’s ‘Comfort Intensity’ would vary. If the argument relates to studying or school, he’d remind you of how smart he knows you are, how capable and talented you were (these aren’t empty words by the way, you all are definitely gifted in some way, especially the other people in this fandom). If it relates to your career, he’s gonna tell them to fuck themselves (but politely????? Idk, he doesn’t care that much about them tbh, he loves you at the end of the day).

If it was something more personal, such as them asking for money or them trying to get a favour from you, he’d firmly remind you you have boundaries, his grip a bit tighter on you. After all, how dare they try to siphon anything from you?

This man, no matter what the hell happened, would take your side 110%, mans wouldn’t even hesitate.

Would be silently livid at your parents, especially if he found out (either from you directly or his less-than-legal recon missions) that they were neglectful or God-forbid abusive.

Would contemplate threatening them to back off from you, especially if he knows they dislike him. Would be pleased that you trust him as much as he loves you.

Comfort-wise, Sol’d just try to take your mind off of it, whether through really kinky sex watching a movie, going out to get take-away, or some other form of activity that he knows you’ll enjoy.

He’d also buy you a new phone, or get your old one repaired if it's possible.

Essentially serves as a very emotionally and physically sanctuary for you, you know you can tell him anything and he’ll support you. <33

Geo would just be awkwardly offering you a hug (guys he’s trying okay), would be a bit irked as to why you shattered your phone against the wall.

If you tell him you fought with your parents, he’d be a bit more understanding about the incident, after all, he does have massive big dick energy daddy issues.

Would ask what the fight was even about (he probably overheard but still wants to get as much info as possible, he’s more logical with determining the best approach to comforting you).

If it relates to school, he’s going to ask for more details, so if needed he can offer aid with anything, or just figure out how much of the shit they say is somewhat reasonable, if at all.

Will be silently disgusted if he finds out they’re harassing you over small things, or nitpicking at your career choice or anything related to your future. It’s your life, he’ll just say it point-blank.

If they are annoyed with the fact they deem him as a ‘bad match’ for you, he’s gonna pull the biggest eye-roll known to man. May or may not get a bit affected by the comment deep down though.

If they’re trying to get your money, or get you to give them something and threatening/guilt-tripping you, he’ll probably nonchalantly call them later (maybe with permission, maybe not, depending how annoyed he is at them) and coldly tell them to back off from you.

Will take your side, you’re one of the handful of people whom he genuinely appreciates and cares about.

When it comes to comfort, I feel Geo was raised with a suck-it-up mentality, so he’ll be slightly less experienced in the art of emotional support. 

He’ll probably spend money on you, or let you buy yourself what you want, maybe will even let you hug him.

Might even pamper you, if he likes you enough (omg Geo doing your makeup and hair when?!)

Will be a teensy bit upset if you’re still sad about it (not at you, at your parents oml), will buy a fake plant to make you feel better.

Alternatively that’s when you both decide to get a #bonsaibaby, along with a new phone for you (rest in pieces old phone, you will be missed).

Will be slightly more attentive to you for a while, is the type to cut fruit and just silently leave it next to you when you’re not looking.

He’s trying hard, okay. He’s not exactly the best figure when it comes to words of affirmation, but he is superior at making sure you understand, clear as day, that you’re capable and intelligent; and he isn’t the type to lie about it either, so that helps as well.

Basically a banger s/o, he’ll aid you however he can. <3

[levenlike11]

tsukishima seemed like he hated your guts. you had no idea why he did, but he acted kinder even to kageyama than he did with you. he was trying to ignore your existence all day everyday, also in every practice or during the school. he even refused to take any towels or water bottles from you if you offer him any since you're the manager of the team. you saw yamaguchi ask him why he's acting such a way with you many times but you never saw him reply, he usually just shook his head towards him and closed the topic. this became more and more disturbing as time went on because you had to communicate with him in order to help the team but he quite literally acted like he didn't want to see your face for another second.

"what are you guys talking about?" you asked when you saw hinata jumping up and down with nishinoya, too happy about something that they're talking about.

"we were planning to see this new movie coming out on the cinema tomorrow after the game if we win it as a celebration! you should also come with us, it's also your and kiyoko's effort as much as ours!" hinata said as pulled you and her towards the group.

"i'd love to, you all deserve a break after working so hard!" you smiled and hinata hugged your side tightly after hearing your answer. as for tsukishima, he didn't even feel the need to hide his discomfort. you could see his face drop from where you are very clearly after you said you'd be there. you stopped wanting to care a long while ago, but it still hurt everytime he behaved so horribly with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

expectedly, karasuno won their match with a great score, they topped off the amazing season they had this year with this victory. you also changed and waited until everyone was no longer sweaty or in their uniforms, and then left with the team and kiyoko to see the movie.

first you saw yamaguchi trying to speak to tsukishima, and then yamaguchi looking at you, and then back at kei. you didn't understand what it was all about but you didn't want to ask since you were sitting so far away from them in the table you decided to eat dinner before the movie.

a few minutes later, you saw hinata analyzing your face as you ate your dinner. "is there something on my face?" you turned to kiyoko and asked.

"not anything i can see." she gave you a weird look. "why?"

"why does that end of the table keep staring at me then?" you mumbled under your breath and tried to ignore them while munching on your remaining meal.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

it was either fate, or hinata and yamaguchi's doing that you somehow became seated next to kei in the movie. they probably just wanted you to start getting along with him but you hoped that they realize you didn't get along with him *because of him, not you! you tried your best for months, and he has only responded with a few rude looks or just once, mostly twice, disrespectful remarks to you.

just as you were about to ask someone to switch their seats with you, the movie's intro started rolling on the screen and the lights turned off. you sat there, unhappy with your positioning until after the break of the cinema. not exactly sure when, but sometime near the end, you got very bored of the movie playing in front of you and fell asleep.

that was fine for a while. that is, until you decided to turn around and put your head on kei's shoulder, not knowing it was him. if you weren't so tired and in need of sleep, you would have woken up by how much your action startled him. he probably knew how much you needed that sleep too, so he didn't move or tell you to wake up and lift your head. you slept peacefully until the end of the movie when the lights turned back on. when you realized whose shoulder your head was on, you quickly lifted your head up and apologized.

"i'm so sorry tsukishima, why didn't you wake me up or move my head? you must've felt uncomfortable." you pouted. why were you still thinking about how he felt when he's been nothing near polite to you for the whole semester?

"it's fine, i didn't mind it. i knew you were really tired so i didn't want to wake you up, i wasn't uncomfortable." he answered quietly, surprising you.

"thank you, i'm sorry again, if i made you uncomfortable. is your arm okay? i think my head is kind of heavy..."

"yeah, my arm's fine. and no, your head's not heavy." you smiled at his answer, which seemed like it made him blush. (you chose not to comment on it though.)

neither of you spoke for a while and you just watched the others talk about how good the ending of the movie was. "your hair smells nice." he broke the silence with his comment.

"thanks! it's the shampoo from -brand name-." you smiled, and you didn't talk to him any more that night afterwards. he only smiled back at you, which was probably the kindest thing he had ever been towards you, and you both went on with your own days. if you paid more attention to what was happening behind you, you would see hinata and yamaguchi nudging the others to look at your interaction after trying so hard to get you guys to talk properly.

although if you had been rewarded with a chance to see the future months ago, you would have fallen asleep on his shoulder way back then.

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

1/10

W/c: 7.7k

Warning: Domestic violence

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

The problem with wearing a mask is that eventually, you can’t take it off. Sure, you can stretch the truth. You can come up with some other lie or story that helps move things along. Wearing a mask is like lying to yourself. You pretend everything is okay. You tell yourself more lies to believe you’re doing a good thing. That you’re keeping others safe. If only they knew.

You nod along to the melody pouring from the custom-built speakers Tony Stark installed in the lounge. You laugh whenever someone makes a joke. You smile politely when something is directed towards you. You’re among superheroes every day that ironically don’t wear masks. Their lives are wide open for everyone to see. Their secrets are all out on the table. You’re amongst the earth’s mightiest heroes and you feel like an imposter. Their personalities are big. Their smiles are bright. Their kindness is everlasting. You don’t know if you should be feeling the way you do when they’ve extended their grace to you. They’ve opened their hearts and their home to you. They consider you one of them and yet you can’t seem to offer them the same.

Your life is messy. Complicated. Normal. It’s nothing worthy of the time they’ve given you. It’s a movie night with the Avengers and you’re tucked into Sam’s side and holding onto Bucky’s arm as you watch whatever movie is on the TV screen. Not that you have much of a choice. They’re two pretty big men compared to you and there was only one open seat. You’re not sure they like each other all too well. It’s not your place to ask. So you sit between them with a question at the tip of your tongue that you may never know. You don’t mind much. It feels nice to be included. You’re not an Avenger. You’re not even a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re just a simple secretary with a 9 to 5 who managed to charm Steve Rogers. You’re not like them.

Strong. Brave. Fearless.

You’re just… normal. You can count on one hand the things you’ve done in life that could even be a smidge of what they do every day. They save the world and all you do is file paperwork and answer phones. How does that compare?

Your eyes scan the room. As you observe them you wonder how is it that you’ve managed to fool them all. Do they notice how uncomfortable you are? Do they notice that you apologize whenever you make a mistake? Do they notice your hands shaking whenever a friendly debate becomes a bit more heated than necessary? No. Why would they? You’re just another person to them. A normal person with normal problems. Nothing could be wrong.

You look at each of them one by one as they enjoy the movie. Tony is munching on popcorn, quoting the movie whenever he can, as Pepper looks less enthused about this particular picture. She’s seen it a dozen times since she’s met him. Clint, a.k.a. Hawkeye, he’s half interested, as he checks his phone every three minutes. He must be a popular man the way it vibrates so much. He rests his arms on Natasha’s legs thrown into his lap. She’s leaning into his side, nosily reading the messages as if they’re her own. Her eyes flick to the screen ever so often as she mumbles the lines to herself. It’s a favorite of hers too. Steve is next to her. He’s more interested than any of you. He’s never seen this one. Bucky hasn’t either as he attempts to stay awake through the entire thing. Sam has taken to throwing popcorn over your shoulder, letting it fall into Bucky’s hair that’s incredibly long. Wanda is settled in a chair with her legs thrown over the arm. She’s reading from her kindle with the display brightness turned down low. She’s not interested in the movie but she’s enjoying the company of the others.

Vision is seated just below her on the floor. He’s trying to analyze some of the jokes of the movie. He laughs at inappropriate times and he looks to you for answers but you just shrug. You don’t quite get the movie either. This entire scene is domestic. It feels like a family. You remembered longing for days like this when you were younger. You would watch episodes of FRIENDS wondering if that would ever be your reality.

It’s refreshing how safe you feel here. How you feel like nothing can hurt you. Life should be like this forever? It’s how you always felt during family movie nights as a little girl. You would lie on the living room floor with your older sister, you would share a blanket, and rest your head on your elbows to see the tv better. You would glance around you ever so often to make sure your parents were paying attention. This night in the Avenger’s tower is reminiscent of that. It feels like home.

Until the lights come on. It pulls everyone from the moment as J.A.R.V.I.S. announces the presence of a visitor. Suddenly everyone is on guard. Bucky sits up. He’s more alert than he’s been in the past few hours. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you realize who it is. Sam reaches to grab the remote from the coffee table to pause the TV. Wanda moves to sit upright. Natasha grabs at her pants leg. Was she hiding a gun in those sweatpants? Everyone is on guard but you’re the one that’s afraid.

He steps in with an air of arrogance. He walks like he owns the place. Like he’s not nervous to be trespassing the home of people who could kill him without batting an eye. He gives a convincing smile though you’re not sure anyone is buying it.

“Uh, may we help you?” Tony is the first to speak.

“I’m here for y/n.” He says simply. He folds his arms behind his back and stands shoulder-width apart. His stance is not menacing. It’s quite friendly actually. Everyone turns to you. Curiosity in their eyes. You’ve mentioned having a boyfriend but you never had any intention of introducing them to him.

“I’m right here,” You stand a bit faster than necessary. “I have to go.” You search the couch cushions for your phone and your purse. You reach as far as you can go but you end up finding nothing. All eyes are on the newcomer again. He gives you a soft smile that’s almost convincing. You can feel someone staring at your back though you can’t tell who. Your shirt rises and you straighten to pull it back down. Finally, Bucky lifts and grabs the offending items from his end. He hands them to you. You give him a quiet thanks before turning around.

“But you didn’t finish the movie?” Tony groans. “Hey, trespasser, come sit and watch the movie. Y/n’s not done.”

“I called you.” Keith ignores Tony’s demands. He looks straight ahead to you.

“My phone must have died,” You explain as you press the power button. Sure enough, it is dead.

“You know how dangerous that is.” His voice is friendly though you know better.

“Well she’s not alone,” Sam tilts his head. “How much danger could she be in?”

“Our daughter is home,” Keith looks to Sam. “With a babysitter. It’s important for y/n to be available,” he says. He tucks his hands into his pocket to wait patiently for you. By the tick of his jaw you know it’s not that simple.

“You have a daughter?” Steve chimes in with a question. None of them knew. Not many people know.

“I do, she’s one. Her name is Kaia.” You shake your head in dismissal. “I will explain later. This is my boyfriend Keith. He’s Kaia’s father.” You walk around the couches to stand beside Keith. He wraps his arm around your shoulders to land a kiss on your forehead. He lingers before pulling back.

“Goodnight,” He gives them a wave before leading you into the elevators. Neither of you leaves any room for question. As soon as you’re inside he releases you from his hold. His hand twitches but he doesn’t move to do anything else. He’s not stupid. He won’t do anything in such high security, high-tech building. For a second you’re questioning how he was even allowed up then you remember his charm. It’s how he landed you once upon a time. Keith doesn’t speak until you’re out on the sidewalk. Home is just a fifteen-minute train ride away. “You should know better.” He says before releasing his hold on you.

“Keith, I’m sorry, my phone did die.” You call after him as he walks a bit faster. He’s not waiting for you at all anymore.

“Do you know I had to call around and see where you were?” He turns so suddenly that you almost bump into him.

“Again, I’m sorry.” You feel the frustration rising within you. He’s always like this. It’s no surprise. He thinks he owns you. He likes to micromanage every single one of your moves. He has to know every minor detail about your schedule. Which seems to anger you further. You’re working. You’re always working. Which he so graciously allows you to. “I was here. I’m sure Kaia is fine.” You shrug. Keith looks at you with narrowed eyes. For a second you think he’s going to debate but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues walking towards the train. You let out a silent breath as you look back to the tower. You’d much rather be back inside with the team.

The train ride home is silent. He sits beside you with a possessive hand on your thigh. You allow yourself to settle into him. From the outside, you look like the perfect young couple. You wonder if anyone could see through his gentle touches. You wonder if they know the lingering kisses he leaves on your head are just a warning of what’s to come. He’s not going to let this go so easily.

When you get home, you step into the door and kick off your shoes. You place them neatly on the bamboo shoe rack right next to his loafers. He heads for the fridge in search of a beer. He’s probably had a tough day in the office. He’s the youngest executive at Microsoft and that comes with its struggles. You’re understanding of that. Almost too understanding. You don’t pay him any mind as you walk further into your apartment. Everything you were afraid of disappears when you spot Kaia in her playpen. Kaia pushes against the fabric of the pen to stand. She smiles up at you with that smile. The one that she always has whenever you come home. It’s beautiful and innocent. You don’t hesitate to swoop her in your arms.

You kiss the top of her head before looking over to the babysitter, Maureen. She’s packing up her knitting tools. She’s a nice lady that lives down the hall. She never minds keeping an eye on Kaia when you’re working. You rarely go out so asking her to keep her a little longer wasn’t much of an ask. She just wanted you to have fun.

“How was she today?” You ask.

“An angel.” Maureen smiles. “I’ll see you soon.” Maureen waves her goodbye before exiting the apartment. You stand in silence, bouncing Kaia in your arms, as she toys with the necklace you’re wearing. You glance around the living room. It’s not that messy in here. You figure you can clean once Kaia’s asleep.

“Are you ready for a bath, my girl?” You ask her. You kiss her head again before looking over to Keith. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, his legs are crossed, and he’s sipping from the bottle.

“Are you going to cook?” He asks suddenly.

“What? No, I ate already.” You tell him. “Maureen already fed Kaia. I left her dinner instructions this morning.”

“So, I get nothing?” He deduces. Was it so bad for him to cook for himself?

“Keith,” You sigh. Was this really what he was angry about? You stayed after work with friends one time. Was that so bad? To him it was.

“No, you’re right, I’ll just order out.” He shakes his head. Good. Crisis averted. You walk to the back of the apartment to dress into something more comfortable. You set Kaia on the bed with a toy so that you can strip. Keith approaches the doorway to watch you. He glances to Kaia and then to you. His gaze is strong and heated.

“Can you start a bath for her?” You ask him. He doesn’t respond. You internally roll your eyes. You don’t know what his deal is today but you’re not in the mood to find out. You unbutton your blouse to reveal your bra. It’s new. It’s a part of the new wardrobe you’ve needed for a long while. Your new salary gives you the luxury to buy things like this now. Stark Industries pays pretty well. You’re only a temp but you enjoy the job nonetheless.

“I haven’t seen that one before,” Keith comments. He tucks his hands into his pocket.

“I just bought it,” You reply. Next to go are your pants. You toss them onto the bed. You glance behind you to make sure Kaia is still playing.

“For who?” He asks. You stop your search for comfier clothes to look up at him. What is he getting at?

“For myself,” You frown.

“Are you fucking him?” He suddenly asks. There it is.

“Him who, Keith?” You sit on the bed. You’re in nothing but your underwear but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

“Steve Rogers, Captain America.” He says it as if it’s obvious.

“Where would you get that ridiculous accusation from?” You shake your head. “Keith I’ve barely been there for a few months. He’s nice to me. I’m not sleeping with him.” You stand to look for a t-shirt again. You find one of your mom’s old college shirts that you’re pretty sure is your dad’s. You slip it over your head. You pick Kaia up and she squeals. You’re preoccupied now with the thought of bathing her. You take the few steps to head for the bathroom only Keith is still in the way.

“Does he want to fuck you?” Keith asks. You wish he would stop with the accusations. How could he accuse you of something like that? Especially when he’s the only person you’ve ever slept with. He’s your first. He knows that. He wears it proudly but suddenly he’s voicing insecurity that’s based on nothing.

“I don’t know,” You shrug. You gesture for him to move and he does. He follows you to the bathroom. He watches you without offering any help as you turn on the bathwater. You set Kaia down onto her feet as she holds onto the lip of the tub. She places her mouth on the edge to bite at it as you check the water temperature. “I wouldn’t notice.”

“The Black Widow is hotter in person,” He comments. Again you shrug.

It’s not like you disagree with him on that. Natasha is beautiful. She hasn’t said much to you since you’ve been hanging out with the rest of the team. She only even comes to movie nights because Clint drags her to them. You think she secretly enjoys the bonding.

“Look, the team is nice.” You strip Kaia of her clothes before placing her into the tub. The water is low and enough to bathe her quickly. She splashes excitedly as you toss a few toys in. You can feel the familiar ache in your back as you reach over the side to begin bathing her. “I just wanted to have a good time with them. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“It’s not,” He says.

“Keith, you seem upset that I even stayed at work,” You look behind you. He’s still dressed in his button-up and slacks. “A job you suggested I get remember.” It’s true. He suggested that you go out more and have friends. It was not without you begging for months. He never has his mind made up when it comes to your place in his life. When you first got together he was charming, kind, loving. He’s still all of those things when he chooses to be. It was only after you got pregnant with Kaia that things started to change. It was like a switch went off in his head. Suddenly his behavior was different. He was more possessive, angrier, more physical. It’s almost as if he hated you for even getting pregnant. This much after he begged you to keep the baby in the first place.

“Not upset just curious.” He shrugs. You can feel him coming closer. He kneels, fixing his pants legs so that it’s more comfortable for him to lean over the tub. He pushes his arm sleeves up to reach into the bathtub. He grabs a rubber duck to push it around in the water as it floats. Kaia gives him a toothy grin as she reaches for the duck. You strain your neck to look at him. “She needs a sibling.” You cringe. There it is again. The flipflopping. “Don’t you think ?”

Is that a trick question?

“I think that we should wait,” You say instead. “Until I finish school.” He stops playing with Kaia to give a deep sigh.

“You’re still on that?” He sits back on his legs. “I thought this job was enough.”

“It is,” You assure him. “I just would like to finish my degree. I only have two years left. Isn’t that what we wanted?”

“Yeah, before,” He shakes his head. “Now you don’t need to. I can take care of you.”

You don’t doubt that he could take care of you. You never doubted that. His family is already quite wealthy. They’re powerful. He understands the trade of business. He’s good with his money. He takes care of all of your needs but you want this for yourself. You promised yourself you would. He takes your silence for petulance and tries a different approach.

“Kaia needs you,” He says. “ She needs her mom. I mean with this job you barely have time for her anyways. If you add school to that she’s just going to be raised by a babysitter. I don’t want that.”

“Well you could do it,” You stop yourself from saying it. You’re not in the mood for an argument.

“Would you like a baby brother?” Keith directs his words to Kaia. She splashes at his attention. “See, even she says yes.” He laughs. He helps to clean her hair as you wash the rest of her body. The conversation seems to be over for now. He races for a clean towel as you hold a naked and wet Kaia against you. She’s slippery and still a bit energetic. Hopefully, with one song she will fall asleep. You walk over to the mirror to look into it as she leans her head onto your shoulder while bringing her hand up to her mouth to suck on. You inspect both of you in interest. She has your eyes. Her lashes are thick as her eyes flutter with heaviness. Maybe a song won't be needed. You rock her in your arms becoming entranced by your movements.

You enjoy motherhood. You do. Another baby sounds nice in theory. You grew up with siblings. Keith has two brothers himself. Was it unfair to have Kaia grow up alone? You’re not sure. Thinking about the time it would take to raise another one, the toll on your body, the time off of work. School seems a bit further away as you realize another pregnancy meant no time for it. Maybe that’s his plan.

Keith enters with a towel and he finally takes Kaia into his arms. She grunts in protest before settling into his arms. You follow him into her bedroom where he begins to dress her. He diapers her with ease as she watches him with sleepy eyes. You hand him the lotion bottle, then the baby powder, and finally the onesie pajamas for her to wear. You watch how he interacts with her. He’s a good dad. He is. He’s gentle with her. He plays with her. He loves her.

Why wasn’t that enough for you?

You leave him to put her to bed. You search for your phone. There are a few notifications that you weren’t expecting. It’s a groupchat of some sort you’ve been added to. You unlock your phone in excitement to see the unfamiliar numbers messaging you. The only number you do recognize is Steve’s as he’s sent you museum finds a while ago. You open the chain message to read each of them.

There’s a picture of Tony in a headlock attempting to break from Natasha’s grasp. You find it a bit funny and you heart the picture. You scroll up further in search of the other messages.

Hey, y/n, you missed out on the after-show. You laugh as the replies come rolling in. You type a response quickly after you ask for everyone’s names. Soon enough they reply with answers. Were you worthy to be included in their super-secret and private text chain?

You plug your phone into the charger as Keith enters the bedroom. He approaches you from behind to wrap his arms around your waist. You stiffen in his embrace before allowing yourself to relax. You know him. Your body knows him as it reacts to the kisses he places along your neck. He rubs your belly with his thumbs as you sway in place.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes though he doesn’t elaborate. It could be for several things. “I’m stressed at work. I was upset when I came home to see you weren’t here. I should have known. Have your friends. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” You say robotically.

“I like seeing you pregnant,” He says as his soothing rubs turn into firmer touches. His left-hand travels down so that he can trace your stomach under your shirt. You allow his touches. You welcome them. You can feel the slickness coating the inside of your thighs as he nips at the lobe of your ear. He toys with the waistband of your panties before moving to slide them down. “Let me take care of you.” He breathes hotly into your ear and you nod your consent.

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

The next morning you’re back at work bright and early. You’re typing away at your computer when Darcy Lewis comes to the lobby. She has donuts in her hand which only means she’s here to bribe you. You try to hide your grin as she bounces over to your desk. She places the box smack dab in the middle of your desk as she sits on the edge.

“What’s this for?” You ask. You push back so that you can look down at the box.

“Tony’s having a party,” Ah. There it is. “I want you to come.”

“Darcy, I can’t.” You groan. It’s not like you want to. “Keith wants us to have dinner with his parents that night. They’ll be in town.”

“So, bring them,” Darcy says in a duh tone. At your skeptical look, she resorts to begging. “Tony won’t care. I’ll tell him I cleared them. Keith may be a bit stiff but he loves a good party. His parents won’t complain about partying with a billionaire. Then if they’re happy enough you can avoid questions about having another kid or why you aren’t getting married.”

“What are you getting out of this?” You ask Darcy. She’s kind of your best friend these days.

“A right-hand woman that can drink me under the table if she so pleases,” You raise your brow. Even though she’s right she wants something more. “Okay, I need you to set me up with Steve. I know you two are like besties now and he’s not biting my bait so I need an in.”

“Steve and I aren’t besties,” You grimace at the term.

“But you hang out with him,” Darcy tilts her head.

“I do,” You confirm.

“That makes him your best friend beside me,” Darcy traces her nails along with the donut box. “Unless you’re planning some elaborate thing to keep him for yourself.”

“No, I’m not,” You shake your head. “Besides it’s not him I’m looking at if I were interested in an Avenger…”

“Who are you looking at?” Another voice startles you both as you whip your head around to see Natasha Romanoff standing behind Darcy. Her arms are folded and she sports a look of amusement. How long had she been standing there? Darcy recovers quickly and joins in on Natasha’s curiosity. She steps around the desk so that you’re both facing the Widow. She raises a brow urging you to continue.

You fumble for an answer.

“Barnes?” Natasha guesses and you immediately shake your head.

“Nah,” You frown.

“Sam? He’s nice.” Darcy takes a guess. Again you shake your head.

“Those are two very masculine choices,” You explain. You can’t believe you’re even entertaining them with this. You’re in a committed relationship. It’s just gossip, right?

“So, Wanda?” Natasha throws out. At your blush, she can tell she’s gotten warmer but you won’t admit it. “She’s pretty and smart.”

“It’s not Wanda,” You clear your throat before hurriedly stuffing a donut into your mouth. It’s not even one you like. It has chocolate and sprinkles and overall too much sugar. Darcy’s eyes widen as she seems to catch up before Natasha does. Which is saying something. Darcy squeals before looking between the two of you. You move to pinch her thigh and she yelps.

Natasha eyes her curiously. Oh. She unfolds her arms and it’s her turn to blush.

“I’m flattered.”

“Yeah,” You nod. “It’s nothing you have to worry about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, plenty of people have had crushes.” Natasha shrugs. “Besides, I don’t think you could handle me.” She leans in close to say this. She looks directly into your eyes and finds delight in the way your breath hitches. Truth be told it sounds like a challenge. One that has you curious but you don’t say anything further.

Natasha pulls back at the sound of your phone ringing. Why is she here again?

You grab your phone before looking at her apologetically. Darcy takes a donut out of the box as she leans over your shoulder to look into your phone. It’s a photo message of Kaia at the park. She’s playing in the grass while smiling widely at the camera.

“Oh, the kid is so cute,” Darcy coos. “When am I going to be able to squeeze those cheeks again?” Natasha’s back straightens at the mention of the little girl. You realize she’s never gotten to see her. You turn your phone for her to see the picture. Her eyes light up though she makes no other move.

“Cute.” She says. Without another word, she leaves you two to head for the elevators.

“What even was that?” You ask as the doors close.

“Natasha being Natasha,” Darcy dismisses. “Though I sense some major attraction. If I were into chicks I’d be all up on that.”

“Yeah,” You shake your head. You weren’t reading too much into it. Natasha is a spy. She’s a master of manipulation. She’s flirty. You’ve seen her do the same thing to Sam or Bucky whenever she wants something out of them. It’s just how she operates. What could she want from you?

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

The party is the next time you see Natasha. It’s a bit fancier than you thought. It’s more of a gala than a party. Everyone’s dressed so fancily. They’re dressed like money. It makes you a bit uncomfortable but you’re here to support Darcy and the rest of the team. They received Humanitarian awards earlier in the night after stopping another alien attack in some country. Now with the after-party being in the tower, you feel a bit better. This place you know.

You’re here with Keith, and his parents, Lorraine, and Paul. You’re showing them a good time. Everyone is mingling and drinking to their heart's content. Keith has his arm wrapped around you as you talk with Rhodey about one of his military stories. It’s the first time you’re hearing it but it’s an interesting one.

He’s in the middle of the story when Natasha sidles up to his side. She’s wearing a daring pink dress that has a plunging neckline, feathered hem, and a thigh-high slit. It’s pretty and you admired it when she first entered the party. It’s teetering on inappropriate but it looks so damn good on her. Rhodey greets her before continuing his story. She grins, having heard the story before, saying his punch line before he does. Rhodey looks at her with disapproving eyes before breaking into a laugh. She stole his thunder.

“Hello, Natasha Romanoff,” Natasha introduces herself. She shakes Lorraine and Paul’s hands. They sing their praises to her. They’re admittedly a bit star-struck. She’s amused by it as they question her on her fighting abilities. She answers the questions with ease.

“I am curious if you have any weapons on you now,” Paul questions with a glance down her body. “Where would you hide them?” You follow his gaze. You remember the day in the lounge where she grabbed at her pants leg. You have no doubt she has a knife taped to her thigh or something. Could she hide a gun there too? Natasha’s painted lips pull into a smile.

“A lady never tells,” She whispers to him.

“I do love your dress,” Lorraine comments. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Natasha smiles. “Though I think, y/n’s dress is stunning too.” Oh. All eyes are on you as she compliments you. What was that about?

Your eyes travel down your own body. It’s a bit simpler. It’s black. Form-fitting with its split. Your neckline is higher but you’re showing a bit of cleavage. You like the dress enough.

“I think on the right body, it can be,” Keith says offhandedly. Natasha’s smile disappears.

“The right body?” Natasha’s voice is dangerously low. You shake your head. It’s not worth arguing over.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Lorraine joins in. “Y/n is still sporting a bit of baby weight so we don’t see the full potential.”

“I think the full potential has been shown,” Natasha raises a brow.

“Maybe she could work out with you?” Lorraine asks for you. You can’t quite believe it but you’re used to it. It’s not the worst thing she’s said to you.

“Is that what, y/n, wants to do?” Natasha looks to you for answers. You shrug. You’re not opposed to it but you didn’t think there was anything wrong with your body. “I think it’s beautiful. Her body. She did give birth just a year ago. I would think you’d offer a bit of grace to her considering.”

“Oh, of course,” Lorrain agrees not wanting to piss Natasha off. Though you figure it’s a bit too late. Before anyone can say anything else, Natasha walks away. You’re all left with the awkwardness of the moment. Darcy chooses this moment to approach you.

“Hi, I need, y/n, for a second.” Darcy excuses the both of you to pull you over to the bar. You wave in apology as Keith releases you. You look at Darcy questioningly. “Steve is over there. He’s alone. Go hype me up. Don’t do too much where he thinks I’m desperate but do it enough where he knows I want him.”

You narrow your eyes. Message received. You leave Darcy to go and talk to Steve.

“Hey, y/n,” He smiles.

“Where’s your phone?” You ask him. He looks confused but pulls it out anyways. “Darcy Lewis, my friend over there, Thor’s friend. She wants to climb you like a tree. Preferably tonight.” It’s the opposite of what Darcy asked you to do but the look on Steve’s face is so satisfying. “Call her.” You pass him his phone back before turning around to Darcy. You give her a thumbs up across the room. She smiles back at you. A win for her. She could thank you later.

It’s sometime later and the party has no signs of ending just yet. Everyone has paired up while Keith’s parents have gone home. You’re both huddled in the hallway, talking heatedly, as he accuses you once again of wanting to sleep with Steve. His breath is hot. He’s drunk. Your back is pressed against the wall as he stands over you. There’s no one on this side of the lounge and you’re sure he chose this hallway purposely.

“Why do you act like that?” He questions.

“Like what, Keith?” You sigh exasperatedly. You were growing tired of this. “I’ve done nothing. I entertained your family tonight. I endured them insulting me. They don’t like me you know that. Now you’re here again accusing me of wanting to sleep with Steve. I’m here with you.”

“So act like it,” He pokes his finger against your chest. “You’ve been ignoring me most of the night.”

“I haven’t,” You argue back. “I’ve been mingling. I told you we could stay home, Keith.”

“I was trying to do something good for you,” Keith grips your chin so that you can look at him. “Let’s go home.”

“I’m not ready,” You tell him. You would like to stay for just a little longer. You’re enjoying yourself despite his hangups.

“The team doesn’t like me,” Keith tells you. “What did you tell them?”

“What? I didn’t tell them anything.” You remove his hand from your face.

“You’re lying,” He grits through his teeth. He grips your forearm this time as he pushes you into the wall further. “You lie all the time. What did you tell them?”

“Keith,” You whimper. It hurts. His hands aren’t gentle or loving. Not right now. “Let me go.”

“Tell me,” He’s menacing as he dips his face closer to yours. “You know. Never mind. We’re going home. You can call and tell them you quit in the morning.”

“Fuck, do you know how crazy that sounds?” You say despite his grip on your arms. “You’re angry because you think I’m fucking someone I’m not. Do you hear yourself? I’m not sleeping with him. I’m here with you. Let me go, Keith.” His grip only tightens. Despite his inebriation, he’s well coordinated.

“She asked you to let her go,” A voice says from behind him. Keith’s grip loosens but he doesn’t let go of your arm. You peek around his frame to find Darcy and Natasha. Your cheeks flood with embarrassment at them finding you like this. Finding you so weak.

“We were just having a discussion,” Keith speaks first. He swipes s a hand over his face. Natasha’s eyes flicker to yours. “We’ll go home now.” You whimper again. You quickly try to hide it but she’s heard it.

“She’s staying with me tonight,” Natasha says. “We were having a sleepover.” She doesn’t address his hands on you. She can see the pleading in your eyes for her not to. You don’t want to fight right now.

Keith doesn’t say anything as he weighs the situation. There’s no way he would ever consider fighting with Natasha. She’s everything you’re not. Brave. Fearless. Strong.

“Fine,” Keith shakes his head.

“No, I can, go.” You speak up.

“Y/n?” Darcy questions.

“No, I’m fine,” You promise them. “Kaia is home and I want to tuck her in.”

“Are you sure?” Natasha’s gaze doesn’t waver. She doesn’t want to let you go home with him.

“I’m sure. I’ll be okay.” You assure them both though you’re not so sure yourself. You nod before following Keith out to the elevators. The two women watch you walk away. They don’t notice the tears in your eyes or the way you tremble as the doors close.

Keith decides on an Uber home. He’s silent the entire time. He relieves Maureen for the night while you go straight for Kaia’s room. You watch her as she sleeps. She’s safe in here. You’re safe in here. He won’t come in and you dread going out.

You’re not afraid of him. You’re not. Not now.

Finally, you muster up the courage to leave her room. You walk slowly to your bedroom where Keith is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s crying. Why is he crying?

“I hate when you make me do that to you,” He admits. “Why can’t you just listen?” He asks.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize. What for? You don’t know.

“You’re not going to leave me are you?” He asks.

“I’m not going to leave you,” You assure him. You come to sit on the bed next to him. Everything in your body is screaming at you not to.

“You don’t have to go back there,” He begins. “If you quit I wouldn’t feel like this. The problems started when you started working there. It’s just… I’m afraid. That you’ll leave.” You knew this already. Though the problems started way before this. He turns to you suddenly. He can see the light bruises on your arms. “I’m sorry,” He slides off the bed to sit on his knees.

You don’t want to quit your job. You don’t want to quit the only thing that keeps you sane.

“You still love me?” He asks with those big brown eyes. The same ones you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I still love you,” You whisper back. You don’t know how much you believe those words anymore. He rests his hands on your knees before spreading your legs. He’s using sex as an apology again and you’re falling for it. When his nose nudges your clit through your panties you lean back to lose yourself in the sensations. When his calloused hands grip your thighs to bring you to the edge of the bed a gasp leaves your lips. When he finally removes your panties you allow yourself to think of something else. For the first time, you think of someone else.

Red tresses. You imagine her hands holding you still. You imagine the way her lips would feel as they kiss your inner thighs. You imagine that’s it’s Natasha here and not him. A single tear leaves your eyes as you climax.

Did you deserve what you’ve been getting?

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

You quit the next morning. You don’t even show up to pack up your desk. You ignore Steve’s messages and Darcy’s texts. Sam’s Instagram DMs are left unopened. Your only friends in the city are being ignored. You don’t want to cause any more problems with Keith. You stay home with Kaia. She’s the highlight of most of your days as you walk with her around the neighborhood every day. Today it’s getting colder so you’re bundled up while you walk. It’s the only place he’ll allow you to go.

Kaia is playing with her stuffed bear in her stroller as you walk aimlessly down the street. She’s warm and the extra blanket covering her legs is more than enough. You don’t notice she’s dropped her toy until she’s crying for it. She whines, whirling in her stroller to reach for the toy when you notice.

“Mama,” Kaia cries. You stop to see it’s gone. Damn it.

You turn to go back for it when a familiar figure stands in front of you. She’s holding the bear pushing it towards you wordlessly.

“Natasha,” You say. You take the bear, passing it back to Kaia, before looking back to the woman before you. Her green eyes watch the toddler curiously.

“You’re okay?” Natasha asks you. She trails her eyes away from the little girl over to you.

“I’m fine,” You assure her. She eyes you up and down as if she can see through your layers of clothing. You want to question how and why she’s on this side of town but you know better. She’s been following you. How long? You don’t know.

“Let me take you for hot chocolate,” Natasha suggests before you can walk away. At your skeptical look, she tries again. “Just one cup.”

You fidget in place before a wave of anger washes over you.

“Why?” You find yourself asking. “I’m not a basket case. I’m not someone you can save.”

“I’m your friend and I miss you.”

“Bullshit,” You tell her. “We’ve only spoken a handful of times. Not without any of the other team around.”

“I’m trying now,” Natasha counters. She eyes Kaia again. “Does he hurt her?”

Jesus!

“How dare you?” You ask. She’s not far off from her guesses. It’s not a radical question. You know it’s not. You’re still offended at her questioning. How could she think you would ever allow him to hurt her?

“He hits you right?” Natasha accuses.

“I’m done,” You turn the stroller in the direction of home. You’re not having this conversation. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with her.

“Y/n, please,” Natasha begs this time. “We’re worried about you. It was either me or the team would come looking for you.”

“You didn’t tell them?” You stop. You don’t look at her. Too ashamed.

“No, dorogaya, I didn’t,” Natasha promises. You ignore the nickname she uses for you.

“One cup,” You turn. She nods. Just one cup.

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

The cafe is one you’ve been to a few times. This time of day it’s empty. Everyone is either at work or school. They’re doing something with their lives. You help Kaia out of her coat so that she doesn’t overheat as you and Natasha sit towards the back of the diner. She’s already at the counter ordering your food while you wait. You insisted that you weren’t hungry but she’s Natasha. She cares about you.

It's hard to think about. Her caring. You shrug your coat off and allow it to hang on the back of your chair. You watch as she carries the muffins over to your table. She gives you a finger, asking you to wait, and she grabs the hot chocolate mugs too. She got chocolate milk for Kaia. The toddler takes it gratefully from her new friend. She drinks from the bottle happily.

“Oh, you’re such a big girl,” Natasha comments as she takes her seat across from you. Kaia beams at the praise. You watch how she interacts with the little girl. She’s gentle and loving. For a moment you wonder if she’s ever wanted to be a mom. Her line of work probably wouldn’t permit it. She’d be great at it.

“She likes you,” You inform her. Kaia is enamored with the other woman as Natasha engages in a game of peekaboo with her. It’s a drastic difference from the cold and aloof Avenger you used to see in the tower.

“Well, I like her too.” Natasha breaks the muffin in half to hand Kaia. Chubby hands grab onto the food and she places it in her mouth. Natasha places the muffin back on the plate before looking at you. “You look good.”

You give a half-hearted shrug.

“How are you?” Natasha asks.

“I’m fine,” You reply.

“Where is he?” Natasha asks.

“Working,” You tell her.

“Y/n, we miss you,” Natasha admits. There’s no sense in beating around the bush. “I came the next morning to your desk to see if you were still there.” You weren’t.

“I’m not anyone to miss,” You stare down into your mug. “I was just a temp.”

“A temp who became our friend,” Natasha ducks her head to catch your eye. “You can’t think that that’s all you are.”

“It doesn’t matter,”

“Doesn’t it?” Natasha replies.

“If you’re here to try and convince me to leave him I won’t.” You say.

“Won’t or can’t?”

“Nat,” You frown. “This isn’t some superhero business thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Natasha sighs. “He hits you, y/n.”

“It’s not all the time,” You feel stupid immediately after saying it. “What you saw at the party. It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t the first time he’s put his hands on you like that.” Natasha sounds so sure of herself. “I saw the bruises on movie night. The ones on your back.” Shit.

“So,” You shake your head. “I take pilates.”

“Bullshit,” Natasha says firmly. “You don't have to lie to me. He hits you.” Why does she keep saying it?

“He loves me,” You say.

“He loves Kaia too,” Natasha looks down at the little girl in question. “What happens when he hits her too?”

“Natasha, he wouldn’t.” You frown. It’s a concern you’ve had. Keith would never. Right?

“But he can,” Natasha begins. “He can and he will. Y/n, you don’t have to stay with him.”

“Where would I go,” You bite your lip nervously. “He’s all I have.”

“He’s not,” Natasha says. “He’s never been all you have. Steve would love to have you. Sam would love to cook with you again. I’d like to have you.”

“I can’t,” You shake your head. “I can’t just leave him. I’m not strong like you. I don’t want to put you out. He’ll find me.”

“You don’t have to be strong like me,” Natasha doesn’t like the sound of that. “Also, he can try and I’d kill him.” You whimper. “I’m sorry but it’s the truth. If you think he’ll come to the tower he’s even more of an idiot than I thought. If you’re up to it, I can bring you to one of my safehouses. It’s still here in the city.”

“Natasha, you don’t have to.” You shake your head.

“Please, y/n, come with me.” Natasha pleads. Your heart is beating further in your chest.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone,” Natasha slides a phone out of her pocket. She passes it to you. “It’s a burner. Use it. When you need I’ll come to get you. No questions asked.”

“Why?”

“I care,” Natasha says.

“I have to go,” You stand. You hurriedly put on your coat and then Kaia’s. Natasha watches you as you leave.

Would she ever see you again?

----> next part

[tomwambsgans]

i just realized what is it about roman, specifically, that allows him to recognize better than any of his siblings that they're not real - or, at least, that they're not real in the ways they want to be. which is of course based on logan.

connor, firstly, places a lot of value on "the old ways," which he gets from romanticizing his father's past. "i'll never understand dad until i shit in a bucket." he mistakenly thinks that logan will appreciate a remnant of rural, traditional childhood - sourdough starter. he's obsessed with history and he runs a ranch so he can larp being a blue-collar bootstraps man full time. he wants to go to a "real bar, where men have dirt and blood on their hands, like in the movies." he wants to badly to not be the out of touch, spoiled rich boy who never had any real experience, who has nothing to show for his life that isn't his dad's money. and it's just not possible.

similarly, kendall stakes his ideal of "realness" in victimhood. he's more disillusioned with logan's backstory than connor is (at times) but ultimately, he wants the same thing. to be able to rewrite his life and believe that he started from nothing. he identifies with the underdog and with the marginalized to a sometimes delusional and fetishistic degree - just watch his very first scene in the show, lmao. he's aware of the evil that his dad has done and, as his heir, he wants to believe that he is a product, rather than a producer, of the fucked of world. because those affected are the real people.

shiv, meanwhile, doesn't look to logan's beginnings but his present when she thinks of what is real. unlike her brothers, she really did make her own pile. she existed, for some time, as separate from the company, with an independent career that, like logan's, involved influencing politics. the only trouble is that there are still many part of a Real Person that she just doesn't have, like the ability to have healthy relationships. even when she tries. her efforts themselves aren't a failure as much as they just ring hollow.

and roman... well, roman just already is the worst parts of logan. the ones logan himself doesn't like and can't stand to see reflected in his own son. he's the youngest [brother], the weak dog, the sexually dysfunct. he got sent off to military school--he experienced something that connor would have enviously considered real life, because his dad had done it too, and it did not help him. everything about him is an overt product of abuse, and it does not make him feel any more real. it didn't make him stronger. unlike his siblings he has never specifically wanted to be unlike his father, but also does not seem to emulate anything about him in particular, either. being physically around his father was all he wanted, and he was aware of it.

so when logan is gone, roman can see by far the most clearly how much of all of them is gone. that's why he knows they're bullshit.

[silent-sanctum]

Character Dynamics: Kakyoin & Polnareff

In a previous post, I mentioned that one of the personal gripes I had with Stardust Crusaders was the missed opportunity to expand the main cast's character further, either individually or through interaction with one another.

And what canon reference will I base all my yapping on? Look no further than the episode where the Crusaders are fighting "High Priestess"- The submarine scene right before they go swimming and get eaten.

You know that scene where Polnareff does a series of big vague arm movements and Kakyoin somehow knows what that means, and then they ensue the "Serious Bro Code Handshake" no one knows about but them.

And some quick special mentions of them fighting as a unit during that scene where Kakyoin and Polnareff fight against the man with two right hands, or Enyaba the Hag's son to put it simply, and that time where they had to get rid of The Lovers from Joseph's head.

In this post, I'll talk about a dynamic that's not too appreciated and should've been more consistent (though that's what I think from what I've seen online) is that between Noriaki Kakyoin and Jean Pierre Polnareff.

Disclaimer: I'll talk about them in a platonic way (because we can appreciate two dudes being great buddies without automatically making them suck each other's lip and cock), but if you think otherwise, then kudos! You do you.

These 2 are, what I feel, would've been a duo with almost a similar dynamic to the one we see with Josuke and Okuyasu, being the difference is that unlike the 2 latter duo consisting of the typical "Dumb-and-Dumber" dynamic, KakPol is more "Nerd-Himbo".

So what makes this duo work exactly? Why am I compelled to write this post?

Well, to simply put, I love an interaction between a typically introverted person and an extroverted person. It's fun to watch Person X dragging Person Y into shenanigans, the latter being too not-cool with it at first, only for said person to go "Fuck it, we ball."

That's why I like writing them as this duo in my stories (namely in Only You, Playing Cupid, and Volleyball).

Kakyoin is not a social person. We know that from his quick backstory. However, despite his lack of social connection, he's polite with the way he interacts with others. He's also an amalgamation of a nerd and a geek: A person filled with ideas and thoughts, capable of providing reasonable logical strategies that benefit the group, and who also has interests in fun stuff like sumo wrestling and video games.

On the other hand, Polnareff will be Polnareff. He's a Frenchman who wears his emotions on his sleeve. He's a little out there with the folks, will get all buddy-buddy with strangers, will flirt with the ladies, and is generally a loud-and-proud kind of dude. But beneath all that social energy, he's also righteous in his own way, wanting to live up to what he deems the right thing to do.

If you put them together, then you get a dynamic that would spill this type of dialogue:

"Aren't you gonna eat your sausages?" "No." "Why?" "Sausage is made with sodium glutamate and sodium nitrate, which are carcinogens." "… So why don't you eat them?" "… Why would you eat carcinogens on purpose?" "Then I'll take them." "But-" "…" "Fine."

The lines above are from a movie named "Midnight Runners". You can swap the main duo of the film with KakPol and there wouldn't be many differences. Both of them behave and speak the way Kakyoin and Polnareff do personality-wise.

Kakyoin is the brain of the two, and Polnareff is the muscle. While Kak's the one offering out things to do, Pol makes sure he lives up to that by making him do said things with him. Polnareff is the type of guy who likes to venture out and have fun, while Kakyoin is someone who wants to do said fun things but feels awkward initiating them, often finding it more comfortable envisioning it rather than actually doing it.

They'd be the type where Pol, the man from France itself, would play bachelor, attempt to swoon some girls, and drag Kakyoin to his antics. He'd share some cheesy Casanova techniques with the poor boy, Kak eventually warms up to the idea having nothing better to do and listens, they attempt trying them out, only to eventually fail at the end of the day. Cue Kak who suggests they play video games instead to which Pol agrees to it.

Pol: And no Jotaro, you're not joining. You attract ladies just by breathing. You don't count.

Jotaro: middle finger

If there's an exam and the question is "List the 3 sources of investigation", Kakyoin would answer "Examine victim, evidence, and crime scene" (emphasizes Logic), while Polnareff would answer "Passion, tenacity, and a big heart" (emphasizes Values). And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe they also share some squabble and banter from time to time.

That's why there's a difference in dynamics with "Polnareff and Kakyoin" compared to "Polnareff and Jotaro".

Jotaro is more hands-on and nonchalant about the way he lives his life. He lets events play out and has no problem joining in and exploring as he goes along the way.

Kakyoin is more hesitant and wants to think about it more, pondering whether or not said activity is worth it or not. Pol and Joot can hang out and smoke all they want almost immediately, but Pol must convince Kak before doing anything outside Cherry Boy's comfort zone.

There's that satisfaction in having Kakyoin feel less alone and be brought of his shell thanks to Polnareff's interventions. He gets to share his more geeky side with someone who's like "Sounds cool!"

It also works in the battlefield as well. As I mentioned, Kakyoin is the strategist. He comes up with the ideas- they can be half-baked or fool-proofed, either way, the second a plan is suggested, Polnareff will agree to it and execute any of them if it sounds good enough.

I don't know how to end this. It's rather abrupt, but yeah! In my opinion, Kakyoin and Polnareff are just a couple of bros who needed more screen time as a duo.

Let me know if yall want more stuff like this!

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #8

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Freestyle!

Contents: Sex worker/professional sub!Dabi, Non-villains AU (yes quirks), Toga is 18, strippers, mentioned orgies, anal plug.

“Happy birthday!” Tomura nearly jumps out of his skin when he opens the door to his apartment a little after six, having fully planned to just crash and then see if anyone wanted to do something tomorrow. But of course one of them had snooped. He would put good money on it being Toga. 

“Get out of my house.” He says flatly as he enters, having to bat a balloon out of his face as he tries to hang up his coat. He has a lavish penthouse apartment, a good job at his adoptive father’s company, and good friends. But they are definitely pushing their luck coming into his space unannounced, and are lucky he’s wearing his gloves and none of them had been too close to the door when he opened it, because otherwise the chances of this having ended in bloodshed were nonzero. Toga and Magne are definitely responsible for having decorated the entire apartment in gray, black, and red balloons and streamers, a black table cloth thrown over his island with food and drink set out on red trays and cups. There is a small pile of presents wrapped on the coffee table in the living room, and his friends are dressed for a party. He finds Spinner, who is half hiding behind Magne. “This is not why I gave you a spare key.” 

“Which is why we didn’t use it to break in.” Atsuhiro tells him haughtily. 

“Your bedroom is fucking scary, Shig.” 

He lets out a long, low sigh. “Who else did you invite?” 

“Everyone in your black book that wasn’t crossed out.” Magne tells him. “Who’s ‘Firefly’? They didn’t answer the phone when we called and texted us instead with rates. Stripper?” 

“Sure.” He says, perking up a little. “Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, consider that your present from me,” Jin tells him, “Cause he was not cheap.” 

“Worth every penny.” Tomura tells them. He is used to throwing some pretty lavish, pretty risque parties at his place. But so far he’s kept those things separate from what he gets up to with his friends. It’s going to be a hell of a time making this shit work, but he’ll figure it out. He always does.

///

They have a couple of hours before other people arrive, and Tomura posts the rules for the engagement tonight. This is a mixing and mingling party, not an open floor. Papers won’t be checked at the door, nothing under the clothes, but there will be entertainers present. He hires a couple of actual strippers he knows he can get on short notice, and also sends Jin and Magne out to get a dozen more bottles of assorted alcohol. He has a reputation to uphold. Before they go, he puts their presents for him in his closet, thanking them for the thought, but telling them tomorrow he’d rather just have them over to unwrap them and then maybe order pizza and watch a movie or something. He makes sure that he’s got his bedroom in order, that there’s enough food ready and out, orders some last-minute catering to cover everything else, and then, when all of his friends are back, he sits them down and preps them. 

“My other associates are into the same styles of play that I am. There won’t be any play going on here tonight, but if at any point someone makes you uncomfortable or they cross a boundary, just tell them politely that you aren’t interested and they should back off. If they don’t, tell me and I’ll have them escorted out.” He turns his attention to Toga and Spinner, “Have either of you ever been to a strip club before?” 

“Yes!” 

“... No.” 

“General rule is no touching, but you can always ask. If you get over-excited, take a second to calm down. The dancers are here as entertainers, but they do work for tips, and different ones will have different rates, so just ask if you want to know, and as long as you're polite, you can turn down anything they offer. The two guest rooms are going to be for private dances, and if any of you spot anyone trying to get into my bedroom who’s not me or accompanied by me, stop them and get my attention.” 

“You seriously do throw orgies in here?” Magne asks. 

“Sometimes.” He prefers to just rent out the nearest club when he wants to host things like this, but he’s had people in his apartment for it before. 

“Ew. I’m never sitting on your couch again.” 

“I have a cleaning service I use to make sure everything is sterilized afterwards.” He says, taking his hair down, removing his tie, and unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt. “Besides, if you’re going to object to touching anything where someone has had sex in my apartment, you’re going to have to stand outside the door and shout into the room.” 

“Gross.” 

“You’re the ones who wanted my two worlds to collide.” They brought this on themselves. He gives a survey of the apartment, making sure that everything is good to go. “I have a list of cab companies that pick up after three for anyone too plastered to get home themselves, so when things start to wind down, let people know those are available.” 

He makes sure his friends are all good, and he readies himself for the party.

///

By ten o’clock, things are in full swing. Alcohol is flowing, music is pumping throughout his apartment, there are people mingling and dancing, the entertainers are doing their own thing, and everyone seems to be having a good time. Spinner is being a bit of a wallflower, but Magne bullies him into getting a lapdance and keeps guiding him around the room and pouring him drinks to keep him from clamming up entirely. But he hasn’t seen–

A too hot body presses along his back, the thickness of the straps of the leather harness crossing over his skin enough for Tomura to feel even through his clothes. He smells the distinct whiff of smoke, both from cigarettes and his quirk, and relaxes a bit as Dabi’s lips move against the shell of his ear. 

“I charge extra for parties.” 

“I know, firefly.” He says, turning to face the other man. The others must have told him that it was his birthday, because Dabi is looking mouthwateringly good in a strappy red leather harness with a tiny red thong, a bow sitting at the front of the waistband, and another pretty satin ribbon tied delicately around his neck. “They thought you were a stripper.” 

Dabi snorts, and loops his arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together from shoulders to hips. His mouth moves to Tomura’s jaw and he allows it, wrapping his hands around his slender waist and reveling in the heat against his skin. “Does that mean we can pretend to slip away for a private dance?” 

“Mm,” he definitely wants to treat himself to a full evening with Dabi, “I want you to wait, kitten.” Dabi immediately perks up when he hears what he wants from him. It’s no wonder he can charge what he does when he’s always the perfect sub no matter what the play is. “We’re going to have a private party once everyone else has left. How many drinks have you had, precious?” 

“None, Sir. You haven’t given me permission to drink yet.” He says immediately. 

“Good boy.” He loves how just that is enough to make Dabi’s eyes glaze a little, a shiver of his pleasure going through him. He used to think that Dabi was just a good actor, but it’s abundantly clear now that he just does like the things that they do together. “You can have two for the rest of the night, now go entertain, but no private dances, no lap dances for anyone else. I’ll pay the difference, but I need you to fill the role they hired you for.” 

“Yes, Sir.” But Dabi waits, and it really does feel like an indulgence when Tomura leans down to give him a kiss. He keeps it soft and chaste, a far cry from the low-level debauchery that is filling the space around them. But the restraint, knowing that they won’t be able to have anything else for hours yet, makes it have a current of heat in it that has nothing to do with Dabi’s quirk. 

“Go show off, kitten. I know how much you like the attention.” He gives him one last kiss against his temple, and then lets Dabi saunter off back into the crowd. 

Seeing that he’s wearing a g-string that does nothing to cover up the fact he’s wearing the glass rose plug he’d bought him a few months ago only makes Tomura want to kick everyone out immediately so he can enjoy him. But he holds off. The anticipation will make it even sweeter.

Dabi’s been staying the night more and more now. Maybe he’ll ask him if he wants to stay and meet his friends properly. Maybe he’ll say yes. Maybe when the cake comes out and Dabi uses his quirk to light the candles and he’s told to make a wish in front of everyone gathered, he wishes, looking over the blue flames into even bluer eyes, that this could be something real. Maybe the fact that Dabi brought him a present of custom red leather gloves that he gives to him after everyone else is gone means that it might come true. 

Thanks so much for participating! If you would like to join in, consider checking out my Ko-fi here!

[once-upon-an-imagine]

billy hargrove x confident-but-short!reader ?

like after st3 and he lives. and they meet up on accident or something maybe harrington reader?

"You need a stepstool or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"shut up and hold me up,"

''this peanut butter better be worth it-''

I love this! I love short!reader 😊😊 this is so cute! I hope you like it, is my first time writing for Billy! Warnings: none Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Peanut Butter Aisle

You didn't understand the big thing about birthdays. You and Steve would usually just watch movies, and eat as much junk food as you could for either one of your birthdays. So you didn't get why he was now making a big deal out of Eddie Munson's birthday.

Well, you kinda did. It was because he was so in love with Eddie and he never wanted him to feel the way the two of you did. You thought it was sweet of your brother. You had never seen Steve so happy. But that didn't mean he could send you to the grocery store, with Billy Hargrove of all people, to get all the food for the party he was throwing for his boyfriend.

Out of all the weird things that happened at Hawkins your brother becoming friends with Billy Hargrove and Eddie Munson was by far the strangest you had ever seen.

"Do you have the list?" Billy asked you as you entered the grocery store. You grabbed the piece of paper from your pocket and showed it to him. "Shit, that's a lot of food" he chuckled.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with" you barely smiled as he grabbed a cart.

Since he became friends with your brother, he's tried everything with you. But you were a tougher person to crack. After almost dying, Billy apologized to everyone in the group and he slowly gained everyone's trust. Except for yours for some reason. You knew the reason, and so did Steve. He was the only one who knew that you had developed a small crush on Billy in the past few months. You enjoyed the occasional flirting back and forth, but to actually develop feelings for him was a completely different level. A small part inside kept telling you that there was no way he changed that much. That he still hated you just as much as he used to hate Steve. So you couldn't bring yourself to admit it.

"What's first on the list?" he asked as he grabbed a cart.

You didn't know what it was. He was looking particularly handsome today. You knew you wouldn't last this grocery shopping trip. You carefully ripped the piece of paper in half.

"You take this side, I take this?" you suggested.

"Are you... sure?" he asked, confused. "We've got time-"

"Yes! Meet you in the peanut butter aisle" you insisted, going one way with a small basket.

You tried to calm yourself down a little. But you knew Billy was noticing that you tried to avoid him whenever you could. But you shrugged it off and got the items in your half of the list until you reached the peanut butter aisle. And, of course, the specific peanut butter that Steve asked for because it was Eddie's favorite was on the top shelf.

"Ugh, why does it have to be all the way up there?" you muttered to yourself. You looked around but the aisle was empty.

When Billy came back to look for you, he silently laughed at the sight of you trying your hardest to reach for the peanut butter on the top shelf.

"You need a stepstool, sweetheart, or are you too proud to ask for my help?"

"Ugh, shut up, Hargrove!"

"I'm not gonna lie, you look cute trying to reach for it-"

"Just get it!"

"That's too tall" he said. "I can hold you up, though" he offered.

"What? No! Why don't I hold you up?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"Seriously? You're gonna hold me up?" he chuckled.

"I could!" you argued and he simply smiled at you. With his stupid charming smile. "Shut up and hold me up" you glared at him.

"You know, a please wouldn't kill you" he smirked.

"Seriously?" you rolled your eyes.

"I mean, it just doesn't sound like you to not be polite-"

"Ugh!" you sighed. "Could you please hold me up, Hargrove?"

"Was that so hard, princess?" he smirked before walking closer to you so he could help you.

"This peanut butter better be worth it-'' he heard you mutter under your breath until you finally reached the jar. "I've got it!" you smiled just as Billy slipped, almost making you fall but his hands quickly wrapped around your waist and your face was really close to his.

"You know, you look really cute when you smile and you're not yelling at me" he smiled. Your heart was beating incredibly fast. You just hoped he couldn't feel it.

"Shut up and put me down, Hargrove!" you complained as he put you back down and you placed the peanut butter on the cart with the rest of the things. "We should go" you quickly said, starting to push the cart.

"Why do you still hate me?" you heard asking you all of a sudden, making you stop and turn around to face him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me" he said, walking closer to you. "I get that you used to hate me. Your brother, Max, and her friends. Everyone" he kept going. "But I have apologized for everything that happened and I have been trying to prove myself for several months now, so why do you still hate me, Harrington?"

It was rare to see Billy this way. And you couldn't deny that you found it kind of sweet. Because he was right. He did apologize to everyone, including yourself, and he was a completely different person than he was a year ago. But you still couldn't bring yourself to admit that you actually liked him. Because a small part inside of you still thought he would make fun of you and just go back to toying with you like he had since he came to Hawkins. So, you didn't.

"Does that bother you, Hargrove?" you smirked. "Does it keep you up at night to know that someone doesn't like you?"

"Not someone" he said, mocking your tone a little bit. "You."

"W-what?" you asked a little taken aback by his bluntness.

"It bothers me that you still hate me, okay? Did I do something to you? I have apologized for my behavior in the past but if I did something else-"

"What difference does it make? "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Because I like you!" he blurted out.

"Y-you what?" you chuckled, nervously.

"I like you" Billy said, walking closer to you.

"No, you don't. You hate me" you insisted.

"No, I don't! I've never hated you" he argued.

"Okay, now you're just lying, Hargrove-" you chuckled, trying to turn around but he gently grabbed your hand and stopped you.

"No, I'm not! I hated your brother. But I never hated you" he said.

"R-really?"

"Are you joking? The first time you spoke to me, you kicked my car and called me an asshole" he smiled.

"Yeah, because you almost ran me over" you reminded him. "And you called me Strawberry Shortcake" you said, making him laugh a little.

"I thought you were cute" he insisted.

"And I thought you were an asshole" you smirked.

"Do you still think I'm an asshole?"

You couldn't really lie to him anymore. Not when he was looking at you like that with his beautiful blue eyes and his sweet smile.

"No" you finally said. "I don't still think you're an asshole, Billy" you said.

"I think that's the first time you've called me by my name" he chuckled.

"Do you still think I'm cute?" you smirked.

"Yeah" he said, smiling at you.

"Well, for what is worth, I don't hate you" you admitted, looking away, but Billy softly cupped your cheek with his hand, making you look up at him. "I... I like you too" you admitted.

"Really?" he smirked. "Enough to go out on a date with me?"

"Maybe" you shrugged. "If you asked" you said.

"You're impossible, Harrington" he chuckled.

"Shut up and kiss me already, Hargrove" you smiled before he brought you closer and pulled you to him, finally kissing you.

The End

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A/N: I hope you liked it! and I hope to have more stories up soon!

[preciouslandmermaid]

from below, gotham rots (battinson x f!reader)

Note: This takes place pre-movie and is a spiritual successor/sequel to the first fic "from high above" which you can find in this series. (Part 1 here)

Safety notes/Warnings: The Kinktober prompt included "drunk/stoned/under the influence." I used some creative liberty with this one and the Reader becomes affected by a drug that heightens her senses/physical senses (think like ecstasy, I guess?) but also it makes u horny lmao. HOWEVER. Reader is also 100% into Batman so it's not like she's manipulated or anything into sleeping with him.

Additional notes: No use of Y/N. established childhood friends with Bruce. cursing/explicit language. enthusiastic consent during sexual content. no physical descriptors are used for the reader. (and yes, dr. crane is absolutely cillian murphy/nolanverse dr. crane sue me)

prompt: size kink, dirty talk, drunk/stoned/under the influence | pairing: battison/f!reader | warnings: explicit sexual content/above notes.

( read on ao3 ) || kinktober list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Crane looks up from his notepad. His blue eyes are sharp and inquisitive behind his square frameless glasses. His light brown hair frames his face in soft moussed waves.

“I’m afraid I can’t be of much use to you. I’ve started working at Arkham only recently.”

You press your tongue to the ridged roof of your mouth. That explains why Dr. Crane was willing to speak to you. He likely hadn’t heard of your prior snooping around. No one warned him. Either he was disliked or not remarkable enough to warrant a heads-up from his colleagues. You decide to play polite and dumb. He thinks you’re a true-crime fanatic with a podcast. Besides, you need him if you’re going to reestablish your story and expose Arkham’s corruption.

“And they treat you well?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Your pen is poised above your notebook and your expression is open and earnest.

Dr. Crane smiles. It disarms you—this sudden charm that radiates from the thin, sharp-eyed doctor.

“They do.” He replies.

Your next question lies heavy on your tongue. He’ll either get defensive, you think, or he’ll play stupid. Dr. Crane is handsome and intelligent, but you’ve spent enough time around shady people to know when someone is hiding something. Dr. Crane doesn’t fidget, cover his mouth when speaking, or avoid your eye-contact. But he does keep glancing at the file cabinet in the left corner. Oh, he is careful about it. You’ll give him that credit. But you’ve caught him enough times to be suspicious.

And being suspicious is healthy in this line of work.

“And the patients?” you finally ask after a weighted pause.

“If you’re concerned,” he begins and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, “I can give you a tour.”

Avoidance. An interesting tactic. It’s your turn to smile placidly and shake your head. You close your notebook. The universal sign of ‘we are done’.

“I’m sorry I have other appointments today,” you say.

“Another time then.” He says and now you are both lying. The way he looks at you suggests he knows it too. You zip your coat and tuck your notebook and phone away into your over-the-shoulder bag.

“I really do appreciate that you took the time to meet with me today, Dr. Crane.” You say as he walks you to the door. He opens it for you. It feels as if you haven’t learned the steps to this dance while Crane memorized the whole choreography.

“Here,” he offers you a thin, stocky business card from his wallet, “in case you think of anything else.” The text on the card is simple. The font is black and thin. It’s his name, his role, his work email address, and his telephone number. You already have all this. You take the card and slide it into your back pocket.

“Have a good afternoon, Dr. Crane.”

He says your name and farewell and shuts the office door once you step from the threshold. Your shoulders relax and you sigh. Your meeting with Crane - it’s not exactly an open door into Arkham, but it’s a cracked window. It’s a start. It’s something. You fish your keys out of your bag and walk toward the exit.

Thankfully, these hallways are brightly lit and warm-paneled with wood. It's decorated with cushioned chairs, coffee tables with magazines, and thin dark-green carpets. These offices are for families and caregivers. And – in this instance – a nosy ex-journalist with an important story to write.

You text Bruce: did you still want to get dinner tonight?

He’s been in a weird mood ever since you left a few days ago (once you had clearance from the doctors). He sulked when you told him. He kept giving you sorrowful, pleading looks shadowed by sleep deprivation. However, you’re on his payroll and can’t justify living with him on top of his generous paychecks. Besides, you want to pursue a relationship with Bruce and it’s too soon to move in together. You have to take it slow. You want to take it slow.

His response arrives when you’re getting into your car. A simple and reserved: yes.

A fluttery and giddy feeling enters your chest.

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

Bruce stares at the screen containing the analysis of your blood samples. Whatever was inside you—it’s not on the market. There are traces of hallucinogenic compounds. There are traces of medication that’s used to treat patients with Alzheimer’s and dementia. And stimulants, too. It’s a jigsaw puzzle of enzymes and chemicals.

He rubs at his bloodshot eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

“You ought to eat something, sir,” Alfred says while setting down a tray of tea and toast.

Bruce replies with a brusque tone, “I’m fine.” He realizes his mistake and corrects himself, “I’m having dinner later with a friend.”

Alfred releases a thoughtful hum. Bruce already knows what he’s thinking. His list of friends is woefully short. And there’s only one person he could go out with.

Alfred asks, “shall I iron your suit? Select some cufflinks?”

Bruce snorts, “It’s not that kind of dinner, Alfred.”

“Then a gift for the lady then?” He begins pouring tea. “You shouldn’t arrive at a date empty-handed. It’s impolite and shows a lack of forethought. Does she like flowers? I could have a bouquet arrangement made of – ah – let’s see.” Alfred mutters various flowers to himself. Bruce catches some of them. Gladiolus, red camellia, tulips. He half-listens and munches on a corner of toast while scrolling through pages upon pages of analysis.

************* 

The little Mediterranean restaurant has an ordering counter, a drink cooler, and three plastic tables. The white and blue bordered walls are plastered with framed photos of beaches in Greece. Your feet stick to the tiles when you stand in front of the drink cooler and grab a beverage.

You flip through your notepad. Dr. Mercer is dead-end. Literally. Despite being only forty-one, he died of a heart attack about two weeks after you were fired. You don’t believe in coincidences anymore. Everything in Gotham is connected. You just have to find the right thread to pull. You start at the beginning.

Dr. Mercer: Gotham University graduate. He wrote his thesis on the behavioral side effects of long-term alcohol addiction. You remember he was a soft-spoken man who genuinely believed in rehabilitation.

Dr. Mercer was your lynchpin. He was the first to express distaste about how Arkham was being run. He confessed that he was providing a substantial amount of pain medication for several of Gotham’s police without a prescription. He suspected they were selling it on the streets, but he couldn’t cut them off.

The police didn’t threaten Dr. Mercer outright, but they did sit outside his house, or remind him that his son was only 12. When Dr. Mercer went to Arkham’s administration, they told him to keep his mouth shut and provide for ‘the brave folks who protect the city’. You recall your last conversation with him and your mouth twists into a frown.

“The guilt,” Dr. Mercer said to you, his expression pained, “I think it might eat me alive, Silver. I can feel it’s teeth in my heart.”

They must have killed him. Whether it was Falcone, someone higher in the pyramid, or someone at the PD—you didn’t know for sure—but you knew Mercer’s death wasn’t accidental. Maybe Dr. Mercer was offered hush money and he couldn’t take the guilt anymore…and rather than protect himself, protect his family, he tried to do the right thing. Maybe he said no. Maybe he said he’d go and talk to the press himself. But before the whistle could blow someone took care of him. A gentle burn prickles at the back of your throat.

“Do you want to order?” The server cuts through your reverie and you blink.

“Oh – um…” You check the time. Bruce is nearly fifteen minutes late. “Uh, sure. Yeah. Please.” You figure he won’t mind if you order before him. As you wait for your food, you return to your notebook and your theories.

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

Batman drew his fist back and his knuckles connected to the thug’s jaw with a sickening, sharp crack.

“Who does Falcone work with?” He growls. “I need a name.” “I don’t know!” The thug pleads. His voice is thick and congested due to his broken nose. “I swear!”

Annoyed, frustrated, and tired of stonewalling into dead-ends, Batman tosses the injured thug onto the wet concrete. His palms slap against the stone, and he scrambles away from Vengeance toward the mouth of the alley. Batman lets him go. His stomach coiled tight like a loaded spring. He stalks back to the Batmobile like a towering shadow.

There is a text illuminated on his phone. His stomach drops.

It reads: Ouch. I waited over an hour for you, but the restaurant is about to kick me out. I’m heading home. I have work to do and then I’m getting up early to meet a contact. Talk later.

He leans his forehead against the steering wheel. He should’ve suspected this would happen. His duties as Vengeance would overlap his desires to be with you and when it came down to it—he’d choose Gotham. He had to choose Gotham. He is the only person capable of keeping the city safe. He’s the only person who can find the root of corruption and dig it out.

You deserve better than being stood up and ignored. He should’ve texted you. He should’ve sent flowers like Alfred suggested. How is that he can be a good partner to you as Batman but can’t manage it as Bruce Wayne? He slams his foot on the accelerator with more force than necessary. His thoughts whirl inside his mind in a maelstrom. His jaw clenches tight. His fingers flex on the steering wheel.

If only you had stayed at his penthouse then he wouldn’t need to worry about date nights. He wouldn’t need to worry about your safety. You would have been right down the hall. Close, safe, bringing light to the shadows of his home.

The tires screech as he takes a corner too hard, too fast. His eyes reflectively look up to the windows of the building. The colorful lights on your balcony illuminate the glass. You have news for him, a lead, and some tension loosens inside him.

(line break)

When you get home, there is a package at your front door, and it finally felt like something was going right.

It took 3 phone calls. One involved copious begging. It took all the money if your saving account. And a shady alleyway meeting with a Gotham University college drop-out. You have everything you need to tinker with your drugged-up blood samples.

You glance at the stack of manila folders on your coffee table. Your life is a proverbial juggling act. You balance coffee and energy drinks, personal interviews and internet sleuthing, and frequent trips to the library archives. You haven’t seen Vengeance in a week. This isn’t unusual, but how your abdomen clenches, whenever you think of him, is.

It feels treacherous to have a physiological reaction when you’re trying to pursue a relationship with Bruce. Although. You bite the inside of your cheek. Bruce doesn’t seem to be giving your relationship as much care and attention as you’d like. It was one date and he bailed. You’d rather have an awkward phone call with Alfred explaining his lateness than empty silence from your potential boyfriend.

In your distracted state, you misjudge the liquid component meant to react with your white blood cells and pour too much into the glass beaker.

You cough, stumbling backward as the fumes assault your nostrils, and your eyes smart with pain and fill with tears. Once the sensation of vertigo passes, you’re overwhelmed by the texture of the clothes on your skin. It’s too tight. It’s going to block your airway. You tug your shirt over your head and wrestle your bra off. You stand in your kitchen, topless, chest heaving, your skin pebbling with goosebumps from the cold. You wish your shitty fucking landlord would fix the heat.

But it’s your fault for playing Chemistry 101 in your abysmally small kitchen. You flick the switch that turns the fan on over the oven to clear away the thin, serpentine wisps of smoke.

“Ah, fuck.” You scrub both hands over your face. Your skin fizzes. It’s not a hot sensation or a cold one, but it’s as if every hair follicle on your body is alert and vibrating. You press your spine into the cool and softly textured wall. Should you call 911? And how would you explain yourself? You’re certain some of these materials are illegal. Questions would be asked. The PD might search your apartment. They could find your notes. You can’t risk it. You try closing your eyes and breathing steadily through your nostrils.

Your balcony door opens. A cool gust of air trails into the hazy kitchen before it shuts off. There’s only one person who can reach your balcony. Your body tenses with anticipation. Of course, he’d come now. Fuck Vengeance and his shitty timing. “What happened?” Batman’s voice enters through your ears and your thighs instinctively clench. A low, pulsing thrum of pure need vibrates down your spine. Oh, fuck. You’re so fucked. You’re so outrageously screwed.

“The drug.” You press one arm over your exposed breasts to cover them, though it hardly matters. He’s been inside you. You stifle a moan in the back of your throat. Nope. Do not think about it. “I was trying to neutralize it. I did something else.”

Batman’s cool, assertive gaze crawls across your throat and chest. “You’re sweating.” He observes.

“No shit.” You deadpan.

“Talk to me.” Batman steps closer and you recoil, not out of fear, but out of sheer desire mixed with embarrassment. Every neuron in your brain is firing and demanding that you crawl onto him, feel the cold, hard press of his armor against your hot skin, feel his gloved fingers in your mouth or in between your legs.

He glances at the equipment on your counter. “I didn’t realize you had experience in biochemistry.”

You laugh a high and wavering laugh, but the giddiness dissipates. You aren’t experienced in biochemistry at all. However, You have the notes of a biochemist and the tenacity of a warrior.

“I’m not hallucinating.” You manage thickly, “but I don’t think you should be here.”

His jaw clenches. “Why not?”

“Because I might do something stupid.”

“Like what?”

Like a thousand things, you want to say. Your mind flashes with about a dozen images of Batman fucking you. You stare at the plush shape of his lips.

The truth tumbles out of your mouth, “like kiss you.”

He cups your jaw firmly and your mouth opens, breath wheezing from your lungs, as you imagine him sliding his warm tongue between your teeth.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You grab his wrist for the sake of touching him, “so are yours.”

“What do you need?” Batman’s gravelly voice is a demand. “Tell me so I can help.”

Your semi-rational thoughts of doctor’s offices or pharmacies fade like smoke. Every muscle in your body aches. Your nipples are tight and hard. Your inner walls keep gripping at thin air and your abdomen clenches at the lack of physical sensory input. You want to touch yourself. You want him to touch you.

“T-touch me. I need you to touch me.” You gasp out as if the words themselves are being ripped from your throat.

Batman releases your jaw and slides both hands down your arms. The rough texture of his gloves is sharp and deliciously grating across your sensitive skin.

“Like this?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“N-no, more.” It’s hard to string sentences together. The word is jagged and blurry. At your guidance, he drags both palms to your chest, and you stumble back into the wall when his hands squeeze your breasts. Your nipples prickle beneath his gloves, and you whimper—your eyes fluttering closed. He squeezes and pushes your breasts together with your hands laid on top his, urging and guiding, every single motion eliciting a sweet, whimpered cry from you.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, but you press his hands harder down against your breasts. He regards you seriously behind his dark, smudged makeup and cowl.

“No. Don’t stop. I think I might die if you stop.”

His lips twitch into a smirk.

“I’ve never heard that before.” He sounds earnest and you chuckle weakly. Batman’s thumb and forefingers encircle your hard nipples and lightly pinch. You hiss and throw your head back into the wall. The slight pain barely registers. His warm lips touch the angled tilt of your jaw. You cry out and tremble against him. Every sensation is magnified by a thousand. Batman’s lips suckle along your neck. He hums to himself when you moan out loud.

“Whatever you did to the sample,” he says while pulling away, “affects your sensitivity to physical stimulation.”

“Yeah, yeah, no shit.” You say, squeezing your fingers between his, and pushing his hand toward the waistband of your pajama shorts.

“Are you sure?” He asks and you manage a short nod. He cups your pussy with a large, gloved hand. Your eyes roll back into your skull. You need his fingers inside you. You need to clench and cum around his hand. Nothing else matters but the desire you have for him. Nothing.

“Fuck,” he hisses and elongates the word, “you’re already so fucking wet for me. So goddamn soaked.” He begins rubbing the outside of your pussy in concentric motions. He presses his body into yours. The sensation of his cold, hard planes of armor draws another breathy moan from your lips.

His kiss is pure, vibrant desire. He suckles your lower lip into his mouth and groans when you whine. His tongue strokes along yours and you writhe and something inside you starts to coil. You shouldn’t be this close so soon, but you are.

You gasp, “fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.”

“Already?” His hand in your shorts moves quicker, “what a good girl you are…cumming for me so soon, so quickly, getting your pussy nice and wet and ready for me.”

You come so hard that your teeth clack together. You’re riding the throbbing aftershocks of your orgasm when Vengeance pushes your underwear aside and sinks his index finger into your cunt.

“Oh, god, please yes—please.” You babble and desperately rock your hips into his hand. His glove creates a ridged sensation that sends sparks of pleasure down to your toes. You clutch to his armor and hike your leg up and hook it around his waist. Batman touches you with a determined purpose. You messily kiss along his jaw. Even the texture of his stubble against your smooth lips is pleasurable. You wonder if you’ll have the courage to ask him to eat you out. You want to feel his stubble on your thighs.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” Your eyes are closed but you can hear his smirk. “If you’re a good girl and cum for me again, I’ll give you my cock. Would you like that?”

“Y-yes.”

It takes only a few thrusts before he’s stoking that white, pulsing fire in your lower stomach. You latch your mouth onto his and kiss him with every ounce of strength you have. He responds with equal fervor. A single lucid thought crosses your mind—if you hadn’t experimented with the samples would Vengeance still kiss you like this? Desire you? The lucidity is short-lived. You cry out into Batman’s open, wet mouth.

He praises, “Good, you’re so good for me.”

You sway on unsteady feet and lean against Batman’s strong frame. He carefully tugs away your shorts and underwear. He places a tender kiss on your bare shoulder. His blue eyes cut to yours—inquisitive and darkened by lust.

“I want to hear you say it.” He says, “Tell me you want me if that’s what you really want.”

“I do.” You reach forward and palm the hard bulge straining against his gear. You hold eye contact with him. You catch your reflection in his dark pupils. Your chin and lips shine with salvia and your skin glistens with sweat.

You repeat yourself since Batman hasn’t moved yet, “I do. I mean it. I want you. I want you to fuck me.” Your heart threatens to escape your ribs. Batman doesn’t move or break eye contact with you as you find his zipper and release his cock. He hisses through clenched teeth when you touch him. You smile to yourself. There’s something heady and intoxicating that you can make Batman’s breath hitch. Your fingers slicken with his pre-cum.

He sharply pulls your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“No fair.” You pout, “You touched me.”

“Next time, Quicksilver. I’ll let you touch all you want.” He grabs you by the waist and lowers you to the floor. You open your mouth to object that your bedroom isn’t that far (small apartment after all), but Batman looks at you—dark and desperate—and his chest heaves.

He rubs the head of his cock against your folds, “I need to be inside you.”

You can’t argue with that. “Okay.” He plunges into you in one swift, slick stroke. Your pussy envelopes him. The world goes blurry-white and your muscles tremble with the delicious sensation of Batman’s cock filling you.

“You take me so well,” He rasps, “I love feeling your cunt stretch and squeeze around me.” He draws his cock out of you and the thigh-guards on his armor glisten with your arousal. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. The linoleum tile is blessedly cool against your feverish skin. Batman holds your hips, lifting you, and sheathes himself once more.

“Fuck.” His pretty eyelashes flutter.

You whine.

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” His thrusts are deep and steady, hitting some apex part of you that makes your toes curl, and your moans hiccup in your chest. “Split open, begging for me, squeezing me,” His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh, “you’re so…fucking…unbelievable.”

He lifts your legs, pressing your knees into your chest, and your hips jerk upward with a gasp. “F-fuck!”

“Is that good?” He rocks in and out of you, teetering on the edge of losing his composure, you can see it in the hard lines of his jaw and the way he squeezes your hips.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, nodding, “don’t stop. Go faster.”

“Yeah?” He nods, panting, “I want to make you cum.” And it says it like a promise. He plants his hands against the tile. You’re nearly folded in-half, surrounded by him, encased by him, his imposing and large armor almost uncomfortable as it presses into your skin. His cock drags along the ridges of your inner walls and then he’s moving into you with confidence and purpose. Your ass smacks wetly against his armor. He grunts, bearing his teeth, pumping into you with feverish desire.

You awkwardly wiggle a hand between your legs. The first touch of your fingertip to your swollen, slick clit is electrifying. Your spine arches off the floor.

“Good girl.” He growls, punctuating his words with a hard and jolting thrust that makes you gasp and tears spring to the corners of your vision. You quickly drag your fingertips across your clit. A flush of goosebumps run down your arms. Your moans echo through your tiny kitchen and reverberate through your eardrums.

“I love—” He gasps, burying himself, “the noises you make for me.”

It feels so unbelievably good that you want to scream or start crying (or both). The combination of Batman towering over you, saying all these sweet words, and the jerky movement of your fingers on your clit is dizzying.

He continues, “Take it. Take all of it. I know you can, pretty girl.” The position makes it difficult to crane your neck upward to kiss him. You settle for gripping his forearms. “Does anyone else fuck you as I do?”

“N-no.” You admit. A wave of guilt threatens to overcast your blissed-out experience, but then Batman grunts and mutters, “good. You deserve this. You’re my perfect girl.”

Your guilt vanishes and you blossom under his praise. You and Bruce haven’t discussed sexual exclusivity. Maybe it’ll be a conversation for the future once Bruce apologizes for missing your date.

“There’s that smile,” he murmurs, “such a sweet and perfect smile. I can feel you getting closer, baby. I want you to cum all over my cock.” His eyes squeeze shut. He exhales your name over and over again. Batman is desperate and panting over you.

“Cum for me, please.” He arches his head back and you seek a peek of his flushed neck, “Please cum for me.”

You scream as you clench and rhythmically pulse beneath him. Your orgasm isn’t a firework. It’s a fucking freight train. Batman fucks you through it, relentless and pounding, his pace steady and controlled. Your pussy gushes and squeezes around him. Batman buries himself and raggedly cries out your name. Your limbs go limp and useless. You release the grip you had on his forearms and your arms flop onto the tile. It takes a full minute for you to come back to earth.

“Fuck,” Batman breathes. You hardly hear him.

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

He gently moves your legs out from underneath him. Your knees and shins are irritated from where his armor dug in. Your eyelids flutter closed and panic clenches his heart. He presses his two fingers beneath your jaw and checks your pulse. It’s steady and strong. He bows his head with a relieved sigh. He hopes that whatever reaction caused by playing Walter White will wear off when you wake up.

He scoops you into his arms and carefully carries you into your bathroom. The bathwater runs weakly tepid, and Bruce mentally chastises your choice to leave his penthouse. He fills the bathtub enough to reach your waist. He removes his gloves and forearm guards. You barely stir and your head rests against the edge of the tub. He gently washes the cum from your inner thighs and the sweat from your skin.

His heart squeezes painfully. Bruce sighs a pitiful and low sound. He wants you so badly, wants to be with you, but how can he do that when he’s Vengeance? He is the only one able to keep Gotham safe. He can’t keep missing date nights or ignoring your calls. He can’t tell you who he is. He should’ve been smarter about this.

But…it’s you.

You were his first friend growing up. You are carved into him deeper than a tattoo. You’re like a transplanted organ that he needs to survive. He managed – before – without you during those cold, lonely years. He doesn’t want to do it again. He knows it’s selfish. He knows his first (and only) priority should be Gotham. Yet, a world emptied of you would be a world he couldn’t live in.

Bruce reaches over toward the towel hanging on the bar. He frowns at their plushness and strange familiarity. They look nicer than the others. Then he notices the embroidered “W” in gold at the edge of the towel.

Bruce chuckles to himself, “Thief.” He says affectionately.

He wraps you in the towel to carry you to bed. His swollen, aching heart swells with fondness. You stole a towel from Wayne Manor. He wonders if you took anything else—what other pieces of him, his home, that you brought into yours.

In the pitch dark of your bedroom, Bruce lays you on the bed and removes his cowl. His skin itches with vulnerability and fear. Bruce kneels beside your bed and cradles your hand against his face. He lightly kisses your palm and checks your pulse at the inside of your wrist.

“Sleep well, Quicksilver,” he murmurs.

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

You awoke the next day feeling groggy and sore, but otherwise fine. You would’ve stayed asleep longer if not for the incessant knocking at your front door.

“Good morning!” greeted the delivery person holding flowers under one arm, “I need your signature for this package.”

Confused, yet curious you scribble your signature onto the digital pad held by the delivery person. They pass the bouquet of flowers and a decent-sized cardboard box to you. It takes a few minutes to find something suitable to put the flowers in. But the colorful arrangement definitely brightens your small apartment.

The cardboard box contains a swanky, expensive black laptop with a note taped to the keyboard.

‘For the sake of security – please use a different password.’ – BW

You spend the rest of your morning transferring your notes from your old laptop to your new one. You do pick a new password. It’s the date you and Bruce reunited. The hours blur by in a black-and-white swarm of scanned newspaper clippings and transcribing your interview notes with Dr. Crane.

A text comes through from Bruce a little before 12:00 PM. It reads: can we get coffee? Or lunch?

A petty, vindictive part of your brain wants to leave him on read. Let him stew in your silence and suffer your indifference. But then you remember the scrappy, scrawny boy of your youth. You remember a pair of soulful, sad blue eyes. His fingers tenderly caring for your wounds after Falcone. His soft smile when you agreed to date him. It won’t solve anything to stay quiet and ignore your hurt feelings.

You text him back: as long as you’re buying. Pick the place and I’ll meet you.

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

Your stomach winds with anxiety as you walk into the little café. Bruce is already here. He’s at a corner table, back to the wall, his eyes on the entrance. You can tell he’s showered and cleaned up. Maybe even shaved. Although his dark sweater is wrinkled and his eyes are shadowed with sleep deprivation, Bruce somehow manages to look handsome. You try to not let your attraction to him fog your thoughts. You need to have a serious conversation. You square your shoulders and approach.

“Hey,” he greets with an uncomfortable shift in his chair. You know he doesn’t like leaving the penthouse. You have to give him some credit that he came out to meet you rather than asking you to come and meet him at home.

“I want to start with my apology before we get coffee,” he begins as you sit down, “I’m sorry. I got caught up in something. I know it’s not - it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s not.” You cross your arms.

He ducks into his shoulders, looking chastised, “Did you get your gift?”

“I did.” You glance around the café. There’s only one other patron inside and they’re busy wearing headphones and typing on their laptop. The employees are chatting amongst each other—barely audible over the café playlist. The journalist part of your brain wants you to dig deeper. You want to know what he was doing. You want to know why he was so ‘caught up’ that he couldn’t call or text you to reschedule. Your instincts buzz. A story is here. You can feel it. You can smell it as keenly as you smell the roasted coffee beans in the air. But you tamper down on those instincts. This is Bruce. He’s your childhood friend.

“Listen, Bruce. What you did was shitty, and it hurt my feelings and I deserve better than that.”

“You do,” he agrees.

“I understand if you don’t have time for a relationship.” You shrug, “maybe we jumped into this too quickly.”

“No.” Bruce leans forward in his seat. “I’m sorry, I should’ve called. You deserve better and I want to…I want to show you that I can be better than that.”

The awkward silence lays between you. You pick at a piece of lint on your pants. You avoid his imploring blue eyes. Your skin prickles. Batman was in your apartment last night. More than that—Batman was inside you. You’re raking Bruce over the coals for not calling when you were busy gushing over Batman’s knuckles. You rub your hands over your face.

“There’s something you should know if you want us to continue this relationship.”

“Okay.”

“I slept with someone last night.”

Your gaze flicks upward to catch Bruce’s expression. He doesn’t look as hurt as you expected. He nods. A small smirk tugs at his plush lips.

He says, “I wasn’t expecting sexual monogamy this early on.” Your shoulders relax. This is the best-case scenario: Bruce isn’t mad or hurt that you fucked someone else. Granted, you hadn’t slept with Vengeance because you were mad at him. It happened purely by accident. It was because of that drug. The back of your neck tingles with warmth. OK. Maybe that’s not entirely true. If Batman had shown interest…then…even without the drug…you might’ve still slept with him.

He asks, “Anyone I know?”

A laugh bubbled up inside your throat.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “and will you tell me?”

You shake your head, “absolutely not. I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Fair enough.”

Bruce orders a black coffee with two sugars. You split a fruit-filled pastry with him. In between bites, you tell him about your meeting with Dr. Crane and pass over your notes on Arkham and Dr. Mercer’s untimely death.

“I’m not sure how Dr. Mercer ties into Falcone, or if he does, but I’m sure Falcone has the network to murder someone.”

Bruce nods thoughtfully.

“I’ll see what Alfred and I can find.”

“We’re close, Bruce.” You admit. A tinge of excitement laces your tone and brightens it. “I can feel it. I think I can use Dr. Crane to re-interview some of Mercer’s patients. I could have my story complete within the next few weeks.”

His brow furrows, “You said you don’t trust Crane. You said he had something to hide.

“He does—but for all we know—he could have hidden dirty magazines in his filing cabinet.”

Bruce’s smile triggers an irregular heartbeat pattern in your chest.

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

You lift the bouquet of flowers from the vase to change the water. A slim, lacquered white notecard slips out from between the stems.

In beautiful calligraphy, it reads: to my perfect girl.

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

Part Three >

[whereserpentswalk]

You know someone. Mabye something is a better description. He's an entity that just sort of joined your freind group, and there's something terrifying about him. Something uncanny about all the things that he does.

He's a supernatural creature of some sort, but not one of any kind that you've seen before. Faeries and all things of the gods stay clear from him, even vampires and werewolves seem to not want to be near him, and demons and ghosts all have at best a begrudging respect. He's something different.

He looks human, perfectly human. Blond hair, clear skin, bright smile, like the type of person who you'd see in a well lit ad. He's always well lit. Always photogenic. Of all the people you know who could secretly be a cryptid he seems the least likely. He's always dressed in the latest fashion, always knows the latest trends.

But there's something deeply wrong with him. At first he just seems a bit boring. He never curses. Likes the most popular movies and shows. Knows no counterculture, nothing unknown, nothing older, nothing not mainstream. It's so consistent. You think you saw him alone once and he was just standing still, not doing anything, not bothering to look like a person. It was the first time you realized he wasn't human at all.

He's very non controversial. He seems to have no religion, no political positions, perhaps no bigotry but no hatred for bigotry either. Mortal fence sitters could never hope to be what he is. It seems fine at first, but one time you were talking about politics with some people who agreed with you, but he seemed to disagree with you talking about it at all, and acusse you of starting fights.

And not to mention you remember a girl who was opening up to you and your freinds about the death of her father, and he told her to stop, told her she was making everything sad. He seems to hate everything sad. Hates sad movies. Hates sad music. Hates sad stories. It's like he sucks up all the sadness out of the room, and all the anger, and all the fear, and sometimes those things belong in some rooms.

You had a freind who said he was there when someone tried to assault them. They had been lead into someone's room at a party, and told to take of their clothing, and realized they were not permitted to leave. And he, the entity, was there, not inside the room but right outside. He didn't even know he was guarding the door, but he was. And he made it all so normal for everyone, told the person inside not to scream, that they were upsetting people, made it so nobody passing through that hallway might be upset at the assault going on outside. Perhaps an entity like him didn't truly know what he was guarding, either way he didn't care.

Eventually your freind got out of that room thanks to a poket knife. They drew the blood of the assaulters easily, such creatures are mere mortals. But the entity outside, the false human you thought was your freind, he was mad, mad at the victim for "bringing violence into a peaceful place". They stabbed him too to get out, but there was no blood inside of him, just void, like shadow given flesh, and the absence of all life incarnate.

You don't know what he is. He's not your friend anymore. There are many entities that have disguised themselves as humans. But you don't understand why one would disguise itself as someone so inhuman.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting my fiancé to hang out with my sister and I?

Okay so my fiancé (22f) offered to drive to Mexico with her aunt and stay a couple days. It was only three days notice and she hadn't discussed it with me(24f) at all. I do think she should go, she's been wanting a vacation lately and been really upset because I can't afford to go anywhere. It's a good opportunity to get vacation and family time. I was really happy for her. I just feel like it's basic politeness to at least let me know before she gave a definitive yes since we live together so I was slightly annoyed.

Fast forward two days and it seemed like that plan wasn't going to work out because her aunt wanted to postpone, so instead she decided to go out of town with her brother (18) since she had gotten her hopes up about a vacation, which again sounded like a good idea. In the meantime I'd set up a sleepover with my sister that same weekend.

Without even mentioning the situation to me, my fiancé posted on snapchat asking if a third person wanted to go with them to keep the costs down, which would be fine if she hadn't posted it to her story. Its okay if someone else goes but maybe asking in a groupchat or a few people individually but not absolutely everyone.

So of course her ex (who she has readily admitted shes left multiple people for) asked to go. It isn't her fault that her ex is the only one who offered but also that's part of the reason why I would have asked her to ask more directly than every single person she has on snapchat.

She asked me if I was comfortable with that which was nice, and I said not really because of the nature of their relationship. The only times we've hung out, my fiancé ended up being super cold and hostile to me and laughing her ass off at inside jokes with her. I get that they have a history and I don't expect her to pretend they dont, but it just makes me uncomfortable when we're all together because I feel like a third wheel to the person I'm engaged to and her ex girlfriend.

She got upset and said I was being unfair and ruining her weekend. I told her it was fine if she could find literally anyone else and that frankly it was inappropriate for her ex to even ask. She got argumentative about how she's been hanging out with her ex for years because they have mutual friends (which is fair except the mutual friends are not invited) and that her ex didnt even know I wouldnt be there. The argument lasted another two days. She kept saying that I am being too controlling, which I dont think is fair because if she didnt care about my feelings then why ask about them. I just gave up and said it was fine. I'd be having fun with my sister anyway so I wouldn't spend the whole time worrying, and I trust her not to cheat on me I just think it's a weird situation and it makes me uncomfortable, which is what she asked.

As soon as I said yes she told me it was too late to book an airbnb so she wasn't going to go, and that really upset me because she'd been so angry about me being uncomfortable that she wouldn't leave me alone for days and what was even the point of all that if she wasn't going to go anyway and she already decided that.

During the past 4 days until canceling suddenly like that, she was 100% supposed to be going out of town to somewhere, and I had gotten really excited about my sleepover with my sister. We were going to do things that my fiancé does not enjoy (arts and crafts, watching period movies) since it would be just us and also have some much needed sister time.

All of a sudden, the next day, my fiancé asked if she could come over too since she wasn't going anywhere. I said "I guess, but we were going to do stuff that you wouldn't like." And she got mad and told me I was being super rude and I could have been nice about it, which I thought I had been and I told her I feel like if she came either she wouldn't have fun or we wouldn't get to do the stuff that we were planning to. She was still angry all night and kept saying she obviously didn't want to come now since she wasn't welcome. I barely slept because she was so clearly upset with me and I didn't see any way to fix things without ruining my night with my sister.

The day before the sleepover she kept hinting that she wanted me to invite her and I really didn't want to. Maybe before all this stuff but I am really annoyed with all of this and I don't want he to butt in on my sisters night.

I think she's been inconsiderate and mean to me over this whole thing. I just don't get her thought process with any of it. But she seems really sad and that does make me think maybe I'm being the asshole here.

So AITA for not wanting my fiancé to hang out with my sister and I?

What are these acronyms?

[gvtted-ratz]

read all our tags/ratings. they are important and give you all u need to decide if you wanna actually read or not. do not like the tags/rating? do not read.

FEM ALIGNING/IDENTIFYING PPL (unless mutuals/friends) DNI WITH OUR MLM WORKS. fem ppl can still request tho. respect our wishes or get blocked. yes we do read/check everything. we tag appropriately/use tags that go with our posts.

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Come On, Now

Brahms Heelshire x Masc!Reader

Last Edited: 27/03/2024

TW: none

Anon: Brahms with (male or masc) reader making him leave the house? Can be either fic or Drabble idc

Word Count: 589

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes from @gvtted-ratz (writer/creator): We can do that, yes. We decided on a drabble (few hundred words) since we do believe, no matter what, Brahms probably would never leave his home (as is shown in the movie since he does not chase after Greta when she escapes before coming back). Hence, not it being a fic. Hope you enjoy. Another title is “Brahms touches grass for the first time in 20 years.”

Notes from @rppik (editor/co-writer): in which we make the lad touch grass.

Convincing the man to leave his own home is more trouble than you’d like to admit. It’s like a game of tug of war with a large mutt. Upon first suggesting he get some air, he'd reply with a pitiful, “Tomorrow?” in his practised child voice. Any attempt at insisting upon it gets shut down with him responding curtly, in his regular voice, “Not now.” And, well, arguing with him when he switches into his natural, gruff tone of voice is like trying to move a particularly fussy mountain. Until today, that is– not even Brahms is immune to persistent, well-meaning urges from his dear “nanny.”

“Are you sure I have to do this?” It’s a whining voice, one a child usually resorts to using when they can’t get their way. The man's uncanny ability to mimic a child's voice surely adds to that effect, also.

“Yes, Mr. Heelshire. It's for the best you step outside after so long. Not only have you never helped me with the rat traps, but you’ve never even been in the garden,” you finish with a sigh, already tired from this entire interaction. You’ve read that being cooped up in a place for too long can impact one’s health. That's why you’re trying to get Brahms to at least step outside his home for only a few minutes.

“Well, I don’t want to.” His bratty tone doesn’t match his large, tense frame.

“Come On, Now. Surely I’m not that bad of company,” you retort, not allowing him to try and back out.

“You are when you’re trying to be awful,” is his answer, tone cracking halfway through his sentence.

“Awful or not, your parents entrusted me in your care. This is part of the job. Now you’ll listen, or you won’t get a goodnight kiss. I’ll take it off the list for the day.” This seems to work, as Brahms has no more fighting words to give you. You grab ahold of his hand and start to tug him along to the back door. He follows with no protest, the warmth of his hand making yours sweat slightly.

Opening the door, you lead Brahms onwards, the sound of his heaving breathing and your footfalls echoing about as you both descend the steps. You don’t take him to the garden, instead leading him to one of the rat traps, sticking close to the house. You know he would freak out if you took him too far from his safe space and prison.

“See, Mr. Heelshire? This isn’t terrible now, is it?” He doesn’t respond, instead looking up at one of the many windows of the home. The one that has caught his eye has black smudges around it, evidence of a past fire from many years ago; it was before your time here at the house.

“No. It’s not bad. Thank you, Mr. [Redacted],” is his answer. At the prefix, you huff in amusement.

“Being polite won’t get you flattery, Mr. Heelshire. After all, you never use ‘Mr.’ when referring to me. Ever since the beginning of our time together.” After inhaling and holding it for a moment, you release the breath before turning towards the man. “We can go now. I only wanted you to experience outside without being trapped in that dusty house all the time. I’ve heard it helps with your health.”

With those words, you and Brahms head back inside. You can only hope he’ll allow you to make this a daily thing. You just want what’s best for him.