Jªmie.

I write stories and fanfics in my free time. I'm an artist, anti ai. Ao3: Imburntout_zzz

[j-blackout8]

Masterlist!!

My ao3 account:

Imburntout_zzz

DC

The light of Wayne Manor.

- Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne - w.c. 1.5k

And you never tried! -but I did!

- Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne - w.c. 2k

COD

Dead best friend, Stay dead.

- John "Soap" Mactavish x Reader - w.c. 1k

REQUESTS OPEN

Banned requests:

-smut

-anything too graphic about SA

Ai users unwelcome.

[en-kay]

during an emotional moment where dick is trying to give Bruce a peptalk

dick: remember what you used to say to me whenever I made a mistake or struggled with training ?

Bruce without missing a beat: you’re a disgrace to this family

Dick, affronted: No

Bruce: you’re a disappointment?

dick: no! You used to say it’s only failure if you give up

Bruce:

Bruce: I said that?

dick, now getting mad: you are unbelievable

Bruce: it just that I have no recollection of saying that

dick: well you used to say it alot

Tim: to you maybe. When I failed he would say [drops voice into a growl] “you’d think it’s a strip show with the way you’re showing your ass”

dick, scandalised: Bruce!

Bruce, nodding solemnly: I do remember that one

[ramen8008]

Tim: [on laptop] you guys, you won't believe what I found

Steph: [pokes her head around the corner] oooh what is it?

Tim: you know how Nightwing was named handsomest/sexist vigilante of the year

Dick: I live to impress

Jason: blegh

Tim: right... Anyways there's another poll. For handsomest/sexist vigilante, silver fox edition

Duke: please tell me it's what I think it is

Tim: yes. Batman won. By a HIGH margin

Steph: [snort] How. He most is face is covered behind that cowl

Tim: [Scrolls down] I don't know but there are comments under the results oh...oh. yeah I don't think you want to know

Duke: okay you can't just do that and not say anything

Dick: yeah show us. What did you see?

Tim: really guys you don't want to see-

Jason: [takes laptop and places it on his lap] Got it

Everyone: [looking over Jason's shoulder]

Tim: really guys nobody needs to read that. Oh god the comments. Horrible, I need to bleach my eyes

Jason: Eh can't be that bad- oh

Dick: [covers Damian's eyes] How is that public? There are children online!

Cass: Dad can not find out about this

Damian: unhand me Grayson, I am not a child

Jason: I think I want to die again

Steph: [leans over to read] "I get that he's supposed to be all mysterious and scary but I know if I could just peg him I'll have him-"

Tim: Steph stop it. Oh god. My ears

Jason: that's not even the worst one. That's actually pretty tame compared to... [Covers screen] nope absolutely no

Steph: oooh what does it say?

Jason: not anything safe for anyone below 21 that's what it says

Duke: you can't be serious

Dick: Is it really that bad?

Jason: [lifts up laptop to let Dick read]

Dick: ...

Dick: [deadpanned] I should have been on that trapeze with my parents

Jason: [snorts] yeah and I should have stayed dead. Wouldn't have to read this shit

Dick: [holding back laughter of shock] I don't- it's just so explicit- I don't even think that's possible. Like limps and flexibility considered i- what the fuck man

Cass: now I'm more curious

Jason: nope. Trust me. I'm saving you all from trauma

Tim: i think it's a little too late for that

Jason: it's still a nope

Steph: Found it! [Waves her phone at the others]

Duke: Read it for the class

Steph: [clear throats]

Bruce: what is going on here?

Everyone: Nothing!

Bruce: what's that in your hand-

Steph: *throws phone across the room*

Bruce: ...

Bruce: [sighs] you know what? I don't even wanna know. Just get to dinner everyone. Alfred's waiting

[evstratt]

Eva Stratt aka the softest girl you've ever seen PROJECT HAIL MARY (2026)

[i-hunger-for-angst]

Happy Fathers Day.

(Trust me and read a little further)

Bruce smiled softly.

“HAPPY FATHERS DAY!” Damian cheered, his siblings chanting it as well, voices sing-song. Dick was smiling ear to ear, hugging everyone, as thanks for the surprise, he was showered with gifts.

Taking a sip of his coffee, drinking in the sight one last time before dipping into the shadows, leaving once more. After all, why would he ruin their moment? He was never a dad, he was more of a- therapist… Yeah… No reason for him to be sad…

Besides he had other things to tend to.

Bruce felt his throat dry as time went on. Tears spilling from his eyes like they were only meant for that purpose. Bruce was crying his heart out for his dad, wishing that he was here, wishing he knew how to be a good dad, just like him. He begged to know how he could've been a good dad, a better one. One who knew what to do, when to do it, what to say, one who never made mistakes. All he wanted was to be with his dad, to have his dad, to be a better dad too.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

He cried out to the world. Why, he still questioned, had they taken a good man? Why not someone who was flawed in every way, flawed as a human, a son, a father, he was no dad. All he was and is, is a failure, a stain on this earth.

Blood fell from his face like tears, he wasn't sure where it was coming from, all he knew was that he was deserving of it, all he knew was that this was a proper punishment for a man like him. The facts lined up in front of him like a line in his hazy mind.

He deserved suffering.

Bruce derived the suffering of his kids, the suffering of his parents, the suffering of everyone who had the dishonor to be around him, he deserved that and so much worse.

He deserved to die.

He deserved a painful, slow death. His thoughts and eyes alike were clouded as the blood continued to drip. How long had he been here? His muscles felt weak, blood and dirt coated his hands like a second skin, a shallow hole dug where his hands were, nails digging into the dirt even as his muscles shook from exertion, he whimpered as the tears flowed in a quiet stream. He couldn't help but feel repulsed with his own humanity. The way he bled, cried, and trembled. He screamed for the world to hear, swaying on his knees. He fell forward, strength, no matter how plentiful or how many times it had been tested- had finally given out on him, sending him face first into the stone of his parents grave. Blood leaked from a small wound on his forehead and some other place, maybe his nose? Or perhaps his mouth? His throat did feel raw- maybe it was both? The thought swirled even as consciousness seemed to try to evade him.

Bruce held on, if only to not be found here, pathetic and weak. He curled in on himself, whimpering and crying silently.

Why am I so horrible? A tiny voice asked him, small, feeble and on the verge of tears, throat seemingly clogged. He listed every reason.

Emotionally inept, not prepared, not enough, not a good dad, not a good teammate, not a good coworker, not smart enough, not strong enough, not charitable enough, simply just not perfect.

Distantly, Bruce heard the sounds of voices, quickly approaching in a rain that he hadn't known had started. The voices sounded familiar, the voices sounded teary, what had he done wrong now? Were they about to comment on their lack of satisfaction with his pain? He had some comments too if that was it.

Oddly enough, that wasn't it. They were hoisting him up to sit, it hurt, but that was okay, it was good even. His head hurt as they all spoke, something about “sorry-” and “prank-” he couldn't understand. Why would they ever need to apologize to him of all people? This must be a mistake or maybe a dream? What a selfish dream it was, the faces came in and out of focus, allowing him the realization that these were “his” kids. Oh, could he get any more selfish!? Thinking of his kids apologizing to him, especially when there was no reason to, how self-absorbed could he be!

This wasn't right. This would never happen.

[lakemojave]

You know that whatever character did those problematic things isn't like. Real, right?

[lakemojave]

You are aware that a fictional character is just a rhetorical construct designed to fulfill a narrative/thematic purpose right? That their actions are written by an author who wants to use them to explore complex ideas and moral gray areas within the safe confines of fiction right? That they aren't a real person who has killed real people right?

[rottingapotheosis]

[caoimhewritesfics]

Continuation here

Simon Riley is the type of man to go to your mean boss' house in the middle of the night to “scare him straight” after he hurt your feelings.

He canceled your office birthday party. "Purely budgetary" was what he said, but Simon didn’t give a fuck. That bastard hurt your feelings, and as your husband, it’s his job to fix it and make you happy.

He waited until you were asleep to track the man down. He drove with the headlights off, wanting to be completely undetected. The house was nice. Too nice. Just another thing that pissed him off. This muppet didn’t deserve a house this nice. 

His large fist pounds the door hard, ready to kick this prick's ass straight into the ground. Your boss answers the door in his robe, looking tired and annoyed.

His face changes quickly when he sees your gigantic, furious husband on his doorstep, masked and all in black. “Who- who are you? I don’t have any money.” Your boss stammers in terror, lips trembling. 

Simon huffs and pushes the door open fully. “I don’t want your fuckin’ money, prick. I’m here for my wife.”

“I don't have her! I swear, Sir! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The pathetic wanker was nearly in tears already just at the sight of Simon. To his credit, Simon was a sight to behold, especially when he showed up ready to throw fists and ask questions later.

“Shut up!” Simon bellows. “You hurt 'er feelings today, canceled 'er party. She’s been excited about tha', been talking all month about it.” It was true; you really had been excited for that stupid party. It was nothing but a small office party with a cake and maybe some streamers, but Simon knew it meant the world to you. 

“What? That… that was budgetary. I had no choice.” Your boss faltered, pulling the fluffy robe tighter around himself like it would save him from the soldier in front of him ready to strike. 

“I don’t give a fuck.” Simon growled, standing taller and grabbing the man by his collar. “I’ve killed men for less than this.” 

“Please, Sir.” Your boss whimpered, trying to pull away. 

“Be quiet, you pathetic shrew.” Simon rolls his eyes and shoves the man inside, towering over him. “You’re gonna do exactly what I say, or we're gonna have problems.”

Your boss scampered away quickly, trembling now. He pressed himself into a corner like a frightened animal. “Okay okay I swear I’ll do whatever you want.”

Simon sneered at him, satisfied with the pathetic display. “You’re gonna give ‘er the party. You’re gonna make it the best damn party she’s ever been to. There will be gifts, an apology, and whatever cake my wife wants. Got it?”

“Y-yes yes I understand.” Your boss nodded rapidly, eyes wide and pleading.

Simon couldn’t help but smirk. He deserved this. Deserved this for making you sad, taking something special from you. Your boss was not going to get away with it. “Throw a bonus check in there too.”

“I can’t just-“ Your boss sputtered pitifully. It was bullshit. Simon knew it. The company was doing better than ever, especially considering the lavish state of this man's house. He would find the money for your party whether he liked it or not. 

Simon was having none of it. He wouldn’t actually kill him. You would never allow that. But that didn’t stop Simon from crouching for effect, needing to really give this little shit a good scare. “Do it. Or I’ll be back, yeah?”

Your boss looked down, nodding in surrender. “Y-yeah… okay.” 

Simon slipped back into your house without a word that night. He tells you nothing when you come home with that bright, beautiful smile, saying that your boss gave you the party and you got a raise to go with it. Seeing that look on your face would always be worth terrifying a man in the middle of the night. 

[cruxhing]

Thinking about Simon trying Tinder for the first time but it’s not what he expected. He signed up without telling anyone because if he had uttered a word about it, you already know Johnny or Kyle is going to snoop through his phone to look at his profile.

But Simon being Simon, he doesn’t know how to present himself in a good light. His photos were bad; he took two selfies as he created his profile and they were not good to say the least. One was a mirror photo of him holding his tiny phone with both of his hands as he stoically stared into the mirror. The other was just a selfie of him except it wasn’t angled high or even remotely attractive. It was angled down as if he was taking some sort of quick snap.

The only thing saving his profile was a photo of Riley wearing a vest and goggles.

His bio was the worst of them all.

“I like working out. I have a busy job.”

That was it.

No personality, no indication that he wanted more than just a quickie.

Simon wasn’t expecting much out of the app and he was right because the next day, he opened up the app to find no matches.

Got the man thinking that he really was ugly.

It ruined his self esteem a little if he said so himself. Simon didn’t care about what other people thought but gosh, not even one person wanted to match with him?

…. And then he learned that he also had to swipe to get matches.

So on Simon’s off day, he practically spent half of the day swiping through people. He was picky, believe it or not.

Boring bio? Bye.

Too much filters or AI? Bye.

Too corny? Bye.

Clearly only looking for a one night stand? Bye.

Kind of hypocritical considering his profile looks like he only spent five minutes creating (which he did).

Just when Simon was about to give up on his love life for good, the last profile he stopped on was yours. Simple, nice photos, interesting bio and funny prompts. He hesitated— not because he wanted to skip, but in fear of rejection. Because if he swiped right and there was no “it’s a match!”, he’d probably wonder if he’ll ever find the love of his life.

His thumb hovered over the middle of his phone before he pressed down and swiped right.

It’s a match!

His phone lit up with the two profiles and underneath was his chance to send a message first.

Fuck. He didn’t know what to say. Should he try to be funny? Or start it off with a simple hey?

Simon began typing, deleting, typing and deleting the same message for the next two minutes before finally settling with a: “Hi. How are y”

He typed too fast that he didn’t even finish his sentence before he pressed sent.

Maybe Tinder wasn’t for him after all.

[j-blackout8]

Ok so I record podfics in my free time right?

But there are some things that I don't know how to deal with?

-if the spelling/grammar is wrong, do you fix it as you read on or leave it to be?

-can you add tags if they're missing?

-how do you deal with streakthroughs????? I'm not how to "read" it right, i read the streaked word then immediately correct it with the word that comes after. But I'm still not feeling the vibe yk??

Anyways, if anyone can please help me or give any tips/advice i would so very grateful 🙏🏻

[daydreamingwishes]

simon wasn't comfortable with touch. every time your hand brushed his arms he'd flinch. you didn't notice at first until your hand searched for his in a crowded place. he froze for a second and you realized this wasn't normal for him.

you weren't simons first relationship but sometimes it felt like you were. every touch or every compliment you gave him caused him to freeze. his cheeks would grow hot and he'd look away.

you loved it about him, but sometimes you wished he'd be okay with recieving love.

so you decided to test him.

you sat next to him on the couch, knee brushing his. he let your skin touch for a second before pulling his leg away. you didn't make any move to get closer, letting him get comfortable again.

after a few minutes you shifted, leaning closer to him so your elbow touched his. he pulled away quickly, moving his arm away from you.

again you shifted, leaning your shoulder on his. he didn't have any room to move anymore. instead, he stood up and walked out the living room, leaving you by yourself.

you sighed softly and followed him into the kitchen.

"baby." you said with a soft tone, not wanting him to get even more uncomfortable.

he hummed, not turning around to meet your eyes. his focus was on getting a cup of water.

"i could really go for a hug." you approached him from behind, wrapping your arms around him to see what he'd do.

he pulled away quickly, taking a few steps back.

you looked at him with feigned confusion, trying to see how much he'd pull away.

"why'd you pull away?" you asked him, stepping closer to him.

he took a few steps back. he didn't say anything, keeping his head down.

"simon?" you whispered. you took a step forward. he didn't move away, he just kept his eyes down.

"im sorry." he whispered back.

"for?"

"for pulling back. for moving away. for everything. i just don't like touching. it reminds me of things i dont wanna think about. i know its just you and i know you want to touch me but i just cant. im sorry."

a frown fell on your lips. "oh, si. im sorry for pushing you."

he shook his head, finally looking at you.

"its not your fault. you've had so much patience with me."

"still."

"no. no still. i mean it. one day maybe i'll be okay with it but for now i just...cant.

you nodded understanding.

"i'll wait for as long as it takes. touch isn't the only way to show love." you smiled at him softly.

he let out a relieved sigh. grateful for your understanding and patience. one day he'd be able to love you how you should be loved.

[yousummonedme]

Just thinking about shy Simon Riley

(fluff and smut. MDNI)

The first time he asked you out, he was a nervous, melting wreck. His friends, watching from a distances, guffawed at the sight of the huge man hunched over to match your height a bit better.

When you started dating, trying to hold your hand was a whole tactical operation for him. He’d had a thirty-step strategy, and you smashed it in one second when you slipped your fingers between his. Simon instantly squeezed your hand to get more of your warmth.

Your first kiss, just outside the destination for your second date, excited him a bit too much. He stammered and folded all over himself trying to hide why he couldn’t go outside for a few minutes. When you figured it out, you turned your head with a smile to preserve his frayed dignity.

He came much too quick for the first few times you had sex. It took you edging and training him to extend his stamina. But how could he control himself when he had such a lovely woman wrapped around him? To be fair, he was a trooper; and he’d go several rounds to satisfy you even if it made him cry and whimper so prettily in overstimulation.

He’d turn red every time he asked you for affection. If you complimented him, he’d almost hide his face. You figured it out and initiated even harder. For one thing, you knew he’d have a hard time asking for love himself… and it was fun to fluster him. Oh my god!— don’t even get started on the day you took control. He almost busted the instant you pushed him against a wall and caged him between your arms, one hand pinning his huge ones to the wall. When you both went out, it was you talking for him sometimes because he just couldn’t find the words.

Even after you dated and were long married, Simon crushed on you— and he crushed hard!! He’d stare like a blissful fool at the littlest things you did. He could listen to you for hours. For him, the honeymoon period never ended. He never stopped aweing at the fact that he’d ended up with someone as wonderful as you.

Oh, and he still sometimes needed a few minutes to calm down after you kissed him ;)

Loving Simon

Authoress’ note: Hii, y’all! Feel free to drop a comment or DM me with a thought

[kurokothisskurokothatt]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Single Mom!reader

a/n: Genuinely i need this man irl, if you know where to find him, lmk. ENJOY!!💕

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley wakes up extra early to get your daughter dressed and fed, before taking and dropping her off at daycare, just so you can sleep in

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley will play barbie’s with your daughter to keep her occupied so she won’t bother you while you work. “Come er’ pretty girl, mamas busy right now. Let’s go play”

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley scanned every toy store and online store for the exact jumbo pink fluffy unicorn stuffed animal for your daughter, after she left it at a restaurant

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley shed a tear when your daughter brought him a piece a paper with colors scribbled on it, that said “Happy Father’s day!”. He hugged her and whispered, “Thank you baby”. To this day shes still the only one to see this man cry.

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley who agreed to accompanying you and your daughter to the park so quickly. He nearly ran out of his chair to get his shoes on. You couldn’t stop laughing when Simon fell of the swings.

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley who rocked your baby girl to sleep and sat with her for an hour before placing her in her own bed. He peppered her little face with kisses.

Simon “I don’t like kids” Riley who stands in the kitchen making you tea, while you sit on the counter in his tshirt.

“Thank you, Si”

“For?” He grumbles

“For helping me, and loving her like shes your own”

He walks over to you and hands you the tea, then he places his hands on your waist. He kisses your forehead and says,

“Whatever keeps my girls happy”

a/n: RAHHHHH I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS!!! I hope you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed my last post. I do just want to say, based off my schedule i’ll most likely be posting twice, maybe three times a week💕

[pink-disco-bears]

Pt. 1, pt. 2 (your here)

"Sorry to bother, Si, but can you grab me some Ibuprofen on your way home?" You asked, phone pressed to your ear as you toughed it though your typical pre-period(?) cramps.

A sigh came through the other end, "Sorry, love, it'll be late before I get home. I'll pick some up after I'm done here, though. There should be some Tylenol under the sink in the first aid kit," he said, his words unusually tense. You sat up on your elbows, brows furrowed.

"You, okay?"

"'Course, just these pricks at work getting on my last nerve," he grunted, making you chuckle.

"Well good luck, love you."

"Love you too."

Ghost hung up the phone and stuffed it away into his locker--right alongside his wedding ring. He let out a long sigh as he pressed his temple against the back of his hand, just trying to ease the guilt rearing up in the form of an ugly headache.

"Mate, you good?" Gaz asked, walking into the base's break room with Soap, still dressed in their gear from their most recent completed mission.

"I keep tellin' 'im to break it off sooner rather than later," Soap sighed dramatically.

Gaz's head snapped over. "You're still with her? We got all the information we needed from her three months ago."

"It's not that simple," Ghost grunted.

"You're the one who married her," Soap tacked on. "You made it complicated."

"Does she know yet?" Gaz asked before Ghost could snap at his Scottish friend. Ghost pushed himself off the break room wall, moving towards the observation room, where--thought a one-way mirror--he could see the woman at the table, your best friend, the bridesmaid at his and your wedding, and just sighed.

"No, she'll probably learn soon enough."

"Will she know you were involved?" Gax asked, hesitant to pry further into Ghost's less than ideal married life.

Ghost didn't answer.

[pink-disco-bears]

You thought you had found the love of your life.

You had met the tall brooding man that would one day become the love of your life after he told off his drunk Scottish friend after he accidentally stumbled into you. You were quick to apologize for standing in the way (even if you were far out of anyone's way as you sat at the bar alone)--but the man was quicker to grunt out to his friend: "Apologize to the pretty bird, you prick."

After his friend apologized and wandered off at the calling of the restroom, the man stayed by your side at the bar. "Sorry 'bout him...he's a lightweight in denial," he hummed, ordering a beer for himself and a drink for you.

"No, no, it's okay."

"But 's not," he said, glancing over as he took a swing, his dark eyes boring into yours. "Your too beautiful to be knocked into by idiots like him."

You weren't used to being call beautiful...it made your heart flutter.

Now, nearly a year later, you were walking alongside him after he returned home from a work trip, grabbing some fruit for a valentine's dessert, a ring on your finger. You smiled at him as you asked whether you should make strawberry or orange icing--and he answered strawberry (as he knew it was your preference).

You had found the love of your life in that bar.

But Ghost didn't, instead, he fulfilled his mission. His mission to befriend you, to get close, and to find information before tossing you aside without a second glance.

However, he wasn't sure how to do that last part yet.

pt. 2

[raveninrouge]

“Why is she here again?” you muttered under your breath as the influencer clomped through the mud in tactical boots cleaner than your mess kit.

“For PR,” Soap whispered, like it was classified intel. “And because someone hates us.”

The influencer—Tiffany or Tiff or whatever—gave Ghost another lingering look like he was a shirtless firefighter in a calendar. “Ghosty, can you show me how to hold the big scary gun again? Pretty please?” she cooed, doing something horrifying with her eyelashes.

Ghost didn’t look up from checking his gear. “No.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. She turned her death glare on you like you'd just stolen her ring light.

During drills, she "accidentally" pushed a duffel into your path. You tripped, took a dirt dive, and landed face-first in gravel. “Oopsies,” she said, not sorry at all.

Price barked at you in front of the squad. Ghost glanced your way, jaw tight. You grunted and kept walking. You’d live. Probably.

It wasn’t until the field op that things got serious. A misfired flare caused a small explosion, splitting the team. You and Ghost ended up holed in an abandoned barn with limited comms and nightfall closing in.

“You alright?” he asked, checking your shoulder where shrapnel grazed.

“I’ll live. You?”

“Better now that she’s not here,” he muttered.

You chuckled, the sound low and tired. “You know she sees me as a rival?”

“Figured. She stares at you like she wants to murder you with a glittery bayonet.”

A silence hung between you, thicker than smoke. Then—

Ghost reached out, his gloved fingers surprisingly gentle as they hooked under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The harsh shadows of the barn softened around him, and for a second, the chaos outside completely faded.

With his free hand, he reached up and slowly pulled the edge of his mask up just past his lips. Before you could even register the rare sight, he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, tasting faintly of mint and rain, sending a sharp jolt of electricity straight down your spine.

He lingered there for a heartbeat, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, wiping away a streak of dirt. "I've been wanting to do that since you took that dive earlier," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr right against your ear. "You look devastating when you're angry."

You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, your breath catching in your throat as you wrapped a hand around his wrist, pulling him just a fraction closer. "Is that a confession, Lieutenant?"

"It’s a promise," he breathed, his hand shifting to cup the back of your neck, you could feel the heat radiating off him. "When we get back to base, I'm showing you exactly what you mean to me. Understood?"

Before anything else could be said, the door burst open. Tiffanie stood there, red-faced and holding her phone.

“I demand to be extracted! This lighting is heinous, and nobody told me there’d be spiders!”

Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Ma’am, calm down—” you tried.

“I knew you’d sabotage me! You’re just jealous!”

And that’s when she grabbed your vest.

You sighed, pulled out your taser, and shot her square in the thigh.

She collapsed like a diva in a soap opera.

Ghost looked down at her twitching body. “..You didn’t even hesitate.”

“She’s lucky I didn’t set her eyelashes on fire.”

Ghost stared at you, then nodded. “I’ll back your report.”

You shrugged. “Self-defence.”

Then you looked back up at the team who flooded in right at the moment, spoke deadpan. "You saw Nothing".

The squad looked anywhere but at them as the sky suddenly was a lot more interesting. "Must have been the wind.", they said in unison.

[urk-m]

Ghost maker

Minkhoa Khan

As a treat

@pufferfishzero would probably like this one

And another one without my awful handwriting

[totallynotashieldagent]

The Morning After The Confession

To say that Zuke woke up with a blinding headache, would be an understatement. His first thought was cursing Sokka- His second was to wonder who helped him clean up for bed and his third thought was the gasping panic of everything that happened last night.

He shot up to sit straight and looked around. The sun was quite high in the sky already and you were not in the room.

"Uh oh-" He swallowed hard as memories flooded back to him.

Not in broken fragments- Oh no. He remembered vividly everything he'd said. He'd done. He was mortified. He groaned, fell back into bed and scrubbed his face with his hands.

There was a knock and he winced. "Enter." Zuko mumbled and a servant opened the door.

"My Lord-" He bowed and brought in a tray of breakfast. "The Fire Lady has sent ginger tea for your headache-" He placed the tray on the table next to his side of the bed.

"Did she... say anything else?" Zuko asked, sitting up. Already dreading the possibility of anything at all.

"She- Umm- Sent a message." He sounded very uneasy. "That Please let His Majesty know that he may not drink with the Avatar and Chief Sokka unsupervised."

"Noted." Zuko groaned. "You may leave."

The servant scurried away, closing the door behind him. Zuko shook his head and went through the motions slowly. Cleaned himself, then poured himself tea. He was grateful of you but he was also currently very terrified of you.

Death would be more kind than facing her.

Zuko was successful in avoiding his own wife for most of the day. However, by evening- He knew he'd have to face you sooner or later, considering that you did share accommodations and all. Nonetheless, he stayed in his study much longer than he needed to. He was succeeding as well until a servant came to let him know that you had requested his presence for dinner in your shared chambers.

He was more and more terrified with each step he took until he was at the doors.

"May I- Uh-" He was about to knock when you opened the door. You smiled at him and he swallowed hard. "Hello-" He waved awkwardly.

"You've been avoiding me-" You teased.

Zuko sighed and gave you the smallest smile. "After the fool I made of myself, I think that's valid." He closed the door behind himself and followed you to the table, sitting on the floor across from you.

"I thought you were a very entertaining fool." You laughed a little.

"Spirits-" He sighed. "Perhaps I should abdicate. Let Uncle rule whilst I find a home with the badgermoles." That made you laugh more. "Please- Don't enjoy my misery." He looked at you. "I am so sorry for how I behaved last night. It was unbecoming of any respectable man. I shouldn't have drunk as if I was a teenager and I shouldn't have come to the room in that condition-" As he spoke, his face turned pink with shame. "I know we'd been making progress in our ... friendship. And I'm extremely ashamed of how I acted and of everything I said."

"Are you sorry that you said all that or that you didn't mean any of it?" You asked softly.

"I- I'm sorry because of how I said it all." He looked down. "I had hoped that I would have shared the matters of my heart in a more... romantic setting. Rather than as a drunkard in the middle of the night."

"I didn't mind it." You looked down, toying with the food. "You looked at me like I was something precious." You smiled shyly. "You called me your sun."

"You are." He leaned forward over the table. "You are precious. And you are My Sun." He said softly. "Please, look at me." You lifted your gaze a little. "Do you know why I called you that?" You shook your head. "Because this marriage may have started out as duty and allyship but somewhere along the way, you became my centre. My reason for being. I think of you as the sun because you are. You're the brightest part of my life."

You smiled and shied away from his gaze. "Zuko-" You waved him away, making him chuckle.

"And- And I do want to touch you as any husband wishes to touch their wife but-" He sobered up and paused, "But I know how intense and emotional I can be. I didn't want to burden you. with that part of myself." He explained, twiddling with his thumbs. "And then there's the whole issue of my... my scars-"

"I don't mind them-" You said a little too quickly. "I- Uh- I mean- It adds character to- to-"

"To?" He smiled a little, moving around the table to sit beside you.

"I forgot-" You whispered, unable to look away from his eyes.

"May I?" He offered his hands and you wordlessly placed yours in them. "You know something else I realized last night?"

"What?" You swallowed.

"That ... perhaps I should get drunk more often." He leaned down to place a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Because it made an honest man out of me."

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