#Like they'd just given up - like they knew that it wasn't even worth putting in the effort

[sysig]

Come back as a flower, spring Baby

Tala took it pretty hard. Makes sense

Hopefully, anyway. Live food that has the opportunity to hide can be hard to keep track of, so it’s possible they were stressed too... But at least that would be something familiar, not a big scary shadow to run away from

Even selfish, childish thoughts deserve a place to be recognized. There’s no utility in piling shame on top of grief

It felt really strange to logically know that they were gone but still believing so hard that I could somehow undo it, that they’d start moving again if I just did the right thing. Death really does strange things to the brain

[pia-nor481]

I can do it better

Max verstappen x reader smut 18+

3.6k words

She was sat on their-her bedroom floor trying to recollect herself when a loud knock to the front door broke her out of the state she was in. Her eyes were red and cheeks painted with tears. Hoping that the knocking would stop she continued to stare at herself in the full length mirror opposite her hunched over body. Evidently, it didn't stop, she practically shouted the person behind the door to wait a minute. In the mean time, she stumbled up, pulling a shirt over her body and rushing to the bathroom, in hope of cold water freshening her face up; Although it was hard to look presentable at this given time. She could barely stay up her two feet while walking towards the front door. She didn't know where her things were, phone definitely blowing up with her friends asking how her night went, even if they got a hold of her, she wouldn't answer, they'd had enough of her complaints of her love life.

Once she reached the door handle, she opened it a crack, trying to avoid her body being seen. "Sorry to just turn up but my flight leaves tomorrow and you weren't answering, and need some of my stuff before I go." Max was a pretty observant person, he had to be; so nothing slipped past him. "You open the door like this for all the men who knock?" He joked lightly, knowing she often took what he said in jest. He looked back up to her face when there was no further comment. "No, what's up? I can tell something is wrong." He said letting himself into her flat, placing his keys and phone on the counter next to hers, he saw the ample amount of WhatsApp notifications. "Come on, you can tell me what happened." It was so obvious that max still cared for her. Their relationship was always messy. They fought constantly, it started as little things; the floors not being cleaned properly or a few things left in awkward or annoying places. Both of their friends said it was good that they were fighting about things like that, claiming it was healthy to have small bits of conflict that could be quickly resolved. But it soon became a big problem when carer got involved, he was always traveling whether it be for the actual race, England to help with development of the car, or visiting his home to see his parents or even Monaco to be with his friends, but her job required her to be in one place. They tried hard to make it work, she book flights to come and see some of his races or he would stay until Wednesday night of the race week just to spend time with her, but it just wasn't enough.

There had been a few times were Max had heard her on the phone with her friends trying to convince her to break up with him, but every time she would shut them own. "He's toxic, leave him before it gets worse. There can't be anything that makes it worth the stress and disappointment." She would shake her head before remembering that they couldn't see her that's one thing Max really enjoyed, her tendency to show rather than speak. "If he's toxic, I'll wear a hazmat. You don't get it, I love him." Hearing her say things like that always made him smile. He loved her just as much, if not more. Every time he'd come back he would spend all his time awake comforting her, making her feel secure. She wasn't overly talkative when being asked questions, preferring to just shake her head or even pretend she didn't hear it; but not with max. He tried to make sure she would communicate with him, even when they fought, he'd let her scream and shout at him, he wanted to hear everything she had to say, so he knew how she felt, so he could help, He didn't get the luxury of expression when he was younger and that caused many problems. He learnt from this, he learned how to be better, he learned how to love. Max loved, no, loves her so much; it was hard for him to put it into words sometimes, she knew this, and was okay with him showing his love physically. That may have been a part of the problem, they were never close enough for him to show her how much he loved her. Although he is not the only one to blame, she was stubborn, overly so. She hated being wrong and so did he. So Max tried his hardest to not condescend her when she was wrong, but that wasn't often.

"Come on." He had to bite back the pet names he gave her in the years they spent together. "You can tell me what happened." She also hated voicing her concerns with him. She never worried about cheating, Max would never. It was like she felt neglected, but she couldn't say that, it was selfish, she was the one who said they could make the distance work. As max looked around the room he noticed how empty it was. With all of his things gone it didn't feel like home to her anymore. His house in Monaco didn't feel like home either, not without her. She looked up from her feet to meet his eyes. "It's embarrassing." His shoulders dropped, she was stupid sometimes, she didn't realised how silly that sounded to him. "And I've known you for how long?" He paused walking back towards her, resisting the urge to hold her close, to pull her into his chest and cradle her head. "At least it wasn't someone else's fault." he said slightly relieved, her eyes were still a cause for concern, even now he was prepared to fix any problem she had. The silence was loud, his anger pooled at his fists. "Right?" His eyes scanned over her whole body, making sure she wasn't hurt. "Its stupid, and I'm fine by the way. Can't you just grab your stuff and go?" she asked, almost pleading for him to leave. He was not going to leave her alone, not when she was like this.

Max went against his better judgement and hugged her, she needed it, no matter how many times she wanted to be left completely alone. "Tell me. You always feel better when you say what you're thinking, not just shouting at the mirror." She was almost reduced to tears, not only because of his words, but because she was so embarrassed. "Promise you wont laugh." She whispered through teary eyes. "Promise." He pulled his chest away, so he could look her in the eyes as she spoke. He wanted her to feel listened to, cared for. "So my friends set me up with his guy called Matthew, right." Any remaining anger turned into jealousy. He was fuming that his girl was going on a date with some guy. He pushed his feelings aside briefly, wanting to hear the rest of her story. "Well, we went out to this pretty nice place and it was going well, at least I thought so. Anyway, we came back here and he started kiss me, and you feel me up and stuff." She really didn't want to give her ex-boyfriend the details of her hook up. She paused still embarrassed. "Was he blonde and foreign as well?" Her face became warm as he let out a chuckle, this actually comforted him a bit, to see her go out with guys that reminded her of him. "Glad to see you have a type." She gave him a pointed look as an initial response. "Sorry, go on." Shifting her feet to avoid the shame. Max gave her sweet look, enticing her to speak. "When we, um, went to bed it was, uh, fine to start with but you know, he couldn't make me cum, it didn't seem like he was even trying." Her voice was shaky, her nerves were sky high, but she continued because, for once, Max was right. "So I may or may not have sent him out of the flat." She says with as sigh, looking up at her and grasping his arm for a bit of support ,not physical, but emotional, he was comforting to touch. "I am so glad I was your boyfriend and knew how to actually please you or I don't think we would have lasted as long as we did." He spoke with a crooked smile, ready of a light slap to his chest. "It's not funny Max." defeated, her shoulders slumped slightly as she tried to pull out of his tight grasp. "It is a little bit, oh no, please don't give me that look. I'm sorry I swear."

"So let me get this straight, you wanted to hook up with this guy, Matthew, and he was being a selfish prick, and now you are all desperate and pent up. That I can defiantly work with." Confusion covered her face as Max picked her up by her waist and began walking them towards the bedroom. She hooked her legs around his hips during his venture. She would often scold him for doing things without warning or saying things that he shouldn't. She began to kiss his neck, wanting his attention back on her. She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she would worry about the consequences later. One of his hands slid down her back, giving her ass a nice squeeze, he knew she liked it, not that she'd say so, he had to figure that out for himself.

Once his knees touched the edge of the bed, he placed her on it, immediately pushing her shirt up, "No underwear as well, you really do treat the guys at your door well." He let out with a smirk, before pushing her thighs apart further so he could slot between them. The ghost of his breath had her shuddering, she moaned when his lips finally touched her cunt, tongue licking a long stripe over her slit. Max looked up, not even being able to see her face as her head was thrown back at the slightest amount of pleasure. She really needed to feel him. He began to suck on her clit lightly, not wanting to rush into it and run the risk of ruining her orgasm, it hurt him to make her wait any longer, knowing she had spent so much time dissatisfied. Max shook his head side to side sending waves of bliss through her whole body.

Max got good at eating pussy from practicing on her. There were times where he spent more time between her legs than not. Her moans got louder as max put more pressure on her clit, heightening the sensation. "Could he not do this to you? No? That's what I thought." He breathed against her cunt, making her hips shift towards him. Max pulled her knees over his shoulders as he went back in, the noises that filled the room were quickly becoming pornographic. He could feel her twitching and clenching as he ate her out, Max moaned at the feeling, knowing it would tip her over the edge. "Yes, Max. Please, it feels so good." She barely got out, lungs burning. As she began gasping for air, Max could feel her ankles cross behind his back, squishing his head between her thighs. She came hard, harder than she'd done since the last time they were together. No matter who she slept with, no matter how many times she made herself cum it was never the same. "Did that feel good? Was that better than Matthew? Yeah, I know it is."

She pushed Max back slightly so she could slip off the bed and on to her knees. She undid his belt as quick as her shaky hands would allow her.  She squeezed him lightly and ran her hand over his cock a few times before actually pulling it out, she licked a long stripe along the underside, right along the thick vein of his length. Max let out a breathy groan as she took his entire cock in her mouth, reaching down her throat. His hands quickly found her hair and made pace in tangling them. He guided her up and down his cock watching from above with a pleased look on his face. She pulled off with a loud pop, then she tongued the space between the head and shaft, he let out a guttural moan at the feeling, urging  her to take him back in her mouth, it felt phenomenal. Once she hollowed her cheeks again it all became too much for max, she made him cum so hard he started to feel almost lightheaded, seeing stars, hunching over at the feeling. "Fuck, you feel so go baby. Always making me feel so good." He praised, not one lie leaving his lips, although he got to cum every time he had sex, it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with her. 

"Get up here." he said, pulling her up to her tip toes for a kiss. He slipped his tongue practically down her throat, tasting himself in her mouth. Max never understood how other guys could possibly complain about their girlfriend wanting a kiss after blowing him. If she had no problem kissing him after eating her out, what was the difference? The mix was divine, it sent blood rushing to his cock almost immediately as their lips touched. He let his hands run wild over her body, missing the warm of her skin against his. He missed being able to touch every divot of her body. He missed the control he had over her, and the trust she had in him. He was almost as pent up as she was. Max made a point of picking her up again, just to throw her back down on the bed. He noticed the framed painting was put back up above the bed. When they were together, it was almost exclusively on the floor as they got lazy hunting for it behind the headboard, He was disappointed that it was placed back to its home. Max caged her head between her arms as he kissed his way down her abdomen before he gave her cunt one final kiss. He slid his cock over her clit just to tease, he got the same reaction buy only pushing the head in and out a few times before slowly slipping his whole cock in inch by inch. She was swimming in pleasure with max slowly marking her, her neck covered in bites, a few bleeding slightly, her chest was covered in red marks, he needed to mark her as his again, no one was allowed to touch what was his. Not anymore. "Fuck." Max strained, sounding breathless and choked as he continued to pound into her, just how she always liked. He was too hot not to moan over, so she did, and he indulged her, usually he'd have to cover her mouth with his hand or push her face into the pillows to avoid noise complaints, but tonight he'd let her do anything, all he wanted was her back in his arms. He continued to abuse her walls while she gripped the bedsheets tightly, her knuckles becoming white with the new found strength. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while the remainder of her make up began to smudge and run. Max was fucking her so well her face was painted with tears of joy, and it was just so hot. Max became impossibly harder seeing her fucked out face. He stared to fuck her deeper, hitting that spot that made her go blind with pleasure. "Oh yes Max, always make me feel so good." Her inability to articulate proper sentences was a tell tale sign she was close. Max learned how to read her like a book and it was so beneficial in times like this. 

He quickened his pace, feeling quite close himself. He could she some of this hook up guy's stuff still in her room and it just fuelled the fire. "Matthew didn't make you feel nearly this good did he, sweetheart. You can be honest because I already know." He was interrupted by a thud against the floor. "That's it, good fucking girl for me." he praised her, knowing she would melt from his words, his voice was something she admitted masturbating to when he was gone. She claimed it was mostly because of his accent, but also the tone and the pitch, it just got her so hot and bothered. "Think you can hold on just a little longer?" He asked, feeling her clench around his cock, it made it hard for him to resist. "Only for you, Max." she moaned aware it would edge him on further, fucking her felt exclusive, she was a rare and only he could have her. Perhaps he was a bit possessive, but that didn't matter now that he was with her. One of his hands slid up to her throat, pressing lightly on the sides to only slow the blood flow to her head; his other made way to her clit, rubbing fast circles with just enough pressure to really make it feel good. "Please, just.. just like tha..that." She managed to slur out before her words were cut off by a whine. Her orgasm hit so hard that her head was pushing deep in the mattress and her legs began to spasm and shake. Max only now allowed him self to cum, while she was coming down. He pulled out, shooting plenty of long, thick ropes of cum all over her torso, mainly her perfect tits that her just couldn't resist. They both sighed quietly with small laugh. 

Max gave her a chaste kiss before walking leisurely to the bathroom and picking up a towel to clean her up a bit. On his way back he turned the AC on, anticipating that she would ask him to stay; if he was he want to be touching her the entire time, in order to keep her close he needed the room cold. He brushed the towel over she skin as gently as possible, although it still pulled a moan from her. "I know, but I have to, Darling." He threw the towel to the corner of the room, knowing she'd complain about it later. "Were are my clothes?" He asked quietly, looking back at her on the bed with a grin plastered to her face. "Where you left them before moving out." still in the wardrobe would have been an easier answer but she wanted him to know she didn't want him gone. She anticipated him coming back and wanting to stay, as usual she was right. He put his classic black t-shirt on before climbing in bed with her. "I'm not putting that frame back up." was the first thing she said after coming out of her orgasmic haze. He pulled her practically on top of his body and held her close, as if someone was going to take her from him. "I know." was all he said, trying to think of the right words to convey his feelings. "I never stopped loving you." Was all he could say so he coupled it with a tight squeeze. "I know." It was her turn to give a dry reply and kiss his neck sweetly. "This is great pillow talk." Max laughed out quietly and he could feel her smile against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have blamed you as much as I did, I'm just as responsible. And I most definitely should not have told you to leave and never come back. I regretted it immediately, you know. As soon as I heard the door shut I lost it. I don't deserve you Max, but I need you so much." His heart ached hearing her confession, feeling her tears wet his shirt slightly. "I shouldn't have walked out. I know what you're like when you get angry. As soon I closed that door I couldn't bring myself to leave. I slept outside that door, your neighbour asked what happened and I started crying to her. I kept in touch with your friends, or at least I tried to. I needed to make sure you were okay, but it doesn't seem like they like me much. So don't say you don't deserve me, you do. We will make it to the end, I promise you. I wont lose you again. I love you too much for that." She wiped her now joyful tears as she kissed his lips again. 

There was a loud repeated knock on her door, they tried to ignore it, assuming it was their neighbours complaining about the noise, they normally gave up after a few knocks. But this one persisted. "You stay here and keep warm alright, I'll se who it is." Max got out of the bed a recovered her body in blankets while walking with unnecessary pace towards the door. He swung it open aggressively. "Look I'm sorry about that but can I just get the rest of my clothes and leave, there's no need to-" The guy, who max assumed to me Matthew, stopped upon seeing Max. "Sorry man, but that's not happening. Not while I'm here. I don't think you even deserve it, especially if you can't make such a desperate woman come. Only took me three minutes . So fuck off now will you." Max said before slamming the door, feeling relieved as he reached her again. "I love you so much Max."

[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[merbear25]

Just when I was beginning to lose hope (Law)

Prompt 1 requested by @eloweemelo

a/n: Thank you for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this for you, so I hope you like it 💜💜

CW: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! fem!reader, lovesick angst and fluff, spoilers for Dressrosa arc, fingering, vaginal penetration, slightly rough

Neither of you were looking to catch feelings, but when you first crossed paths with Law, there was an undeniable pull. You were tending to some of his injured crew during a battle in your hometown. Such selflessness and medical expertise made you stand out from so many others they'd come across. When he invited you to join his crew, you gladly took him up on his offer―sailing around the world with an interesting crew such as theirs was impossible to turn down.

The time you spent with Law was irreplaceable: late nights conducting research, perfecting solutions, and exchanging pleasant conversations. Having spent a lot of one on one time together, that pull you'd been feeling was becoming harder to resist. The more you got to know each other, the more apparent your connection was.

Exploring your newfound feelings, setting the foundation to your relationship, letting the budding love shared between flourish, such things were meant to be cherished. However, with the sweet smell of love in bloom came spring storms to potentially uproot what the two of you had been crafting.

You were well aware of Law's past and the responsibility he put on himself to carry out a loved one's lifework. Even so, there wasn't enough time in the world that would have allowed you to prepare for his departure.

Despite your heartache, such a love as yours was worth holding out hope for. Keeping him near and dear, you were as ready as you could be to go through the inevitable loneliness sure to follow.

You'd been keeping up with the news, and although you knew you had to take what was being published with a grain of salt, you couldn't keep the dread from sinking in. Such stories clutched at the hope you'd been trying to keep alive―their grip tightening, attempting to drag it to the pools of dismay forming at the bottom of your heart.

Once word got out that Doflamingo was defeated and the alliance between Law and Luffy had been established, you couldn't hold back the burning tears―seeing proof that he'd survived sent you crashing to your knees, tears of relief and gratitude streaming down your cheeks.

As he reboarded the Polar Tang, you barely recognized him; he'd become worn, yet held a sense of optimism. With the two years of his absence now concluded, you were given the chance to hold each other again, granting yourselves the privilege of getting swept away in the passion that'd reignited―the flame burning brighter than ever before.

The devotion you had for one another could never be doubted. Through quivering lips, you admitted, "I never thought I'd see you again."

Such a fear was mutual, but he didn't respond verbally, instead he deepened his kiss, which was laced with longing and desperation. He needed more than kisses though, you both did. Leading you to your bedroom, he'd already begun tugging your clothes off.

His voice was just above a whisper, his breath hot against your ear, "Let me show you how much I missed you."

Picking you up and swiftly tossing you on the bed, he was quick to climb ontop of you. As the room filled with the scent of the passion and want you had to get lost in the other's embrace, Law trailed kisses down your neck to your breasts, leaving gossebumps in their wake.

Your body reacted to each touch with readiness, begging for more. Matching your neediness, he shoved two fingers between your already slick folds and began pumping, hitting your sweet spot just right. Having gone so long without his attention, your body started twitching and your moans were already growing more urgent.

You held his head as he flicked your nipple with his tongue, earning you a low growl. Your senses were being flooded with the immense bliss he was gifting you.

"I need you, Law. Please, give me more"

Your begs served as a drug; they were laced with an addictive substance that would make it impossible to ever leave your side again.

Positioning himself over you, his searing kisses lit your lips on fire as he alligned his arousal with yours. As he plunged into you, your walls twitched and ached from the forgotten feeling of his girth stretching you out. Your gasps, your fingernails digging into him, your trembling form: you weren't making it any easier on yourself, only causing his hunger to grow.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pain and delight coarsing throughout your body. Keeping your legs propped up on his shoulders, he had himself completely over you, needing to feel every inch. His fingers tangled in your locks and tugged, leaving you panting from the abuse being unleashed on your recently neglected form.

Bucking further and harder into you was sending you both into a frenzy. Yearning to satiate the cravings, you continued dashing towards the peak in the distance.

As your bodys collided and the slaps of your lust sounded in the room, your souls entwined, wrecking you to your cores. After taking a moment to bask in the after glow of your passion, you wrapped your arms around him, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

Allowing yourselves to gaze into the other's eyes, it was obvious that those seeds of love you'd planted so long ago were still deeply rooted and weren't going to be torn from the soil you were working so hard to maintain.

With a tender kiss on your forehead, you could finally set your woes aside. He was home, back in your arms and nothing would tear him away from you.

[vilevenom]

This idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while now, and I finally decided to give it a go. But, wow, I haven't written smut in a literal dogs age, so please be gentle!

This fic is EXPLICIT. But I'm not your mom, so make appropriate decisions for yourself.

Made to Worship at Your Bed

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog (no specific media)

Pairing: Sonic/Shadow

Summary: Their first time doesn't exactly go as planned, but it's better than either of them could have imagined.

WARNINGS: Explicit sexual acts. Characters are depicted as ADULTS

P.S - I am a bottom!Shadow truther. Fight me.

Sonic knew perfectly well the implications of Shadow inviting him over while Rouge was off on some globe trotting escapade, leaving the dark hedgehog alone in their shared apartment.

The two had been dating for a few months now, but had yet to spend a night alone with one another. Sure, they'd slept together, but only in the most strict of senses. At any given point, someone was always right around the corner, bound to pop up at the most inopportune of moments, and shatter any notion they had of privacy. Sonic found it to be rather frustrating if he was being honest, though Shadow seemed to find his irritation amusing more than anything. This only served to frustrate the blue hedgehog further.

So, of course, he'd jumped at Shadow's invitation, making sure to take extra time to wash himself thoroughly, going even so far as to steal a small bottle of sweet smelling quill conditioner from Amy to make sure he looked and smelled as delectable as possible. He knew Shadow liked him regardless of how he presented himself, given how the hybrid had practically pounced on him once after they hadn't seen each other for a week, while Sonic had bits of branches and mud stuck all through his quills. But, that didn't mean he couldn't put forth some effort. Shadow was more than worth it, after all. And if the night went the way he hoped it would, then his little bit of extra preparation would serve him well.

A grin of utter jubilation settled itself on his face as he twisted this way and that in front of his bathroom mirror, finally nodding at himself once he was satisfied. He then dashed out of the house, shouting a quick goodbye to Tails as he slipped on his shoes. On his way to Shadow and Rouge's apartment above Club Rouge he made exactly two stops; first to purchase a small bottle of lube on the likely chance that Shadow didn't have his preferred brand (which didn't leave his fur feeling like it was matted with glue as it dried) and a second to buy a moderately sized bouquet of fragrant brightly colored flowers. He knew Shadow absolutely adored the smell of fresh flowers, though only very select people would ever be privy to that information.

Nerves struck him without warning as he came to a stop on Shadow's door step, causing him to freeze with his hand poised just before knocking on the door. However, he squashed them down as quick as they'd come with a swift reminder to himself that he'd been looking forward to this for weeks. It wasn't even his first rodeo, so he wasn't entirely sure what he really had to be nervous about. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Shadow that made him so jittery. Even just being in the same room as the dark hedgehog made his heart go all fluttery in his chest. None of Sonic's previous partners had made him feel quite like Shadow did, so maybe he just didn't want to disappoint the hybrid. After all, the Ultimate Lifeform must have some wild experiences under his belt. Sonic certainly did.

With a brief shake of his head Sonic knocked on the door, rocking back on his heels as he waited for Shadow to answer. The dopey smile that spread across his face as the door swung open came completely unbidden, and he was sure he looked like a lovestruck idiot. However, he could hardly care with the way Shadow's expression softened and his eyes lit up upon landing on Sonic and the bouquet in his hands.

"These are lovely," Shadow hummed in lieu of a greeting, stepping aside to let Sonic in and gingerly take the flowers as they were pushed into his hands.

"Not as lovely as you," Sonic replied with a wink, chortling at the faint flush that spread on Shadow's muzzle as the hybrid shut the apartment door with a soft click.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Shadow stated bluntly, though he did let a small smile curl his lips as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sonic's cheek, "But, thank you for the flowers."

"Needed to get something pretty for my pretty," Sonic chirped, toeing off his shoes and trotting after the dark hedgehog into the apartment, grinning like a loon as Shadow rolled his eyes and headed into the kitchen, unable to hide the way his smile grew fondly.

"You're ridiculous," Shadow hummed, pulling a vase from the cupboard under the kitchen sink, "Dinner will be ready in a moment. Go sit at the table. I'll bring it out shortly."

"Aye aye, captain," Sonic said, giving Shadow a mock salute and laughing as the hybrid obviously tried to muffle a chuckle at Sonic's antics behind a hand.

Dinner was served not a minute later, just as Shadow had said. Spaghetti and meatballs, with a side of cheese bread. Sonic arched an eyebrow as a plate was set in front of him, biting his lip to try and keep from snickering at Shadow's choice of food. However, he obviously hadn't hidden his amusement well enough, as Shadow sat across from him with a little frown. "What's so funny?"

"Sorry," Sonic finally said after a moment, rubbing at his cheek as he grinned warmly at Shadow, "This is just…very Lady and the Tramp of you." He was surprised to find a flush blossoming across Shadow's muzzle at his comment, as he'd fully expected the reference to fly right over the hybrid's head. He sat up in his seat in as Shadow ducked his head and hunched his shoulders in obvious embarrassment. "Wait…was this on purpose?!"

"…Rouge made me watch it last week," Shadow murmured with a hint of hesitation, hands in his lap, "I thought it was nice."

"Oh, Shadow," Sonic crooned, immediately out of his seat and speeding around the table to crouch next to the other. He let a warm smile settle on his face as he tried to catch Shadow's eye, reaching out to scoop the hybrid's hands into his own. "It is nice. Cliche, sure, but very nice. I just hope you didn't hide a suspiciously long noodle between the plates to try and recreate the whole scene."

"What? No, of course not. That would be impractical, and make a mess."

"Of course," Sonic chuckled, squeezing Shadow's hands gently while leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry if I embarrassed you. I just…never expected something like this from you."

"I wanted our first real date to be memorable," Shadow admitted with a small shrug, his posture loosening, "Those cartoon dogs seemed to enjoy it. Rouge suggested having a record of 'Belle Notte' playing, but I thought that was a bit too on the nose."

"You were right. And I would've clocked it a lot sooner," Sonic said with a snort, rising from his crouched position and heading back to his chair, now that Shadow no longer seemed like he might implode from embarrassment. "I appreciate the effort and thought, Shads. It's really sweet of you."

Shadow opened his mouth, a hint of a challenging smirk on his face, before he seemed to think better of whatever was on the tip of his tongue, letting his jaw shut with a click of his teeth. Sonic arched an eyebrow in confusion as Shadow sat back and stabbed a meatball a little too violently with his fork.

"Uh…what's up, Shads?" Sonic prodded, carefully twirling a forkful of noodles up as Shadow stuffed the entire meatball he'd skewered into his mouth. He frowned lightly as Shadow muttered something around the mouthful of meat, the hybrids cheeks turning bright pink again. "Come again?"

"I said," Shadow said, scowling as he swallowed his mouthful, glaring across the table at Sonic with a growl in his voice, "I wanted to do something sweet for my sweet."

Sonic nearly choked on the noodles he'd only just started chewing, coughing as he hastily swallowed them down, quickly chugging half his glass of water afterwards. "Uh, wow," the blue hero finally managed to gasp out as he cleared his throat, "Maybe next time you want to be romantic, say it without the scary face and snarling?"

Shadow huffed, idly twirling his fork around his plate. "It was stupid and embarrassing. You said it first, so of course it was."

"Flatterer," Sonic chirped, chuckling as Shadow rolled his eyes at him. "And unlike with you, that will get you everywhere with me," he added with a wink, relishing the way Shadow's eyes widened minutely as he nearly choked on the pasta he'd just delicately put into his mouth. "Careful, Shads. Don't want you choking until later. If you're into that," he added with a wink, cackling at just how beat red Shadow's face immediately went, while quickly ducking as a piece of bread was lobbed at his head.

The rest of their meal went by without incident, with idle chit chat about Eggman's last attack, GUN's current operations, and how business at Club Rouge had been going taking up a majority of the time.

Once their plates were emptied, Shadow swept the dishes away before Sonic could open his mouth to ask if he could help with clean up, blinking as another plate was placed in front of him not a moment later. He stared down at the delicate looking little chocolate cake, more than a bit surprised by its appearance. In all the time he'd known Shadow, he really couldn't recall ever seeing the hybrid indulge in dessert. When he lifted his gaze, he found Shadow staring at him intently from across the table, his fork poised over his own cake, obviously waiting for Sonic to take a bite before starting. Suddenly feeling like this little cake was much more important than it had any right to be, Sonic picked up his fork and cut into his cake, surprised by the sudden flow of warm, velvety looking chocolate that spilled from the center across his plate. His ears perked at the sigh of relief from across the table, arching an eyebrow as he glanced back up at Shadow.

"I was worried I'd made them wrong," Shadow explained without Sonic needing to ask. With that, he dug into his own cake, humming in appreciation as he took a bite.

"You made these?" Sonic asked, scooping up a bite and doing his best to hold back a moan as the rich taste of warm chocolate slid across his tongue. Shadow had obviously added something to the filling, as it had just a hint of spice that only served to enhance the overall flavor. "This is amazing, Shadow!" the blue hero gushed, not missing the pleased smile that spread over Shadow's face at the compliment.

"I read that lava cakes were a staple dessert for proper dinner dates," the hybrid hummed, swiping liquid chocolate up with his fork and quickly licking it clean, smirking at how Sonic's eyes were trained on his mouth. "I'm not very well versed with baking, but I wanted this dinner to be…special," he admitted quietly, setting his fork aside. "I realize that this may sound silly, but…I wanted this to feel like a regular date. Like what other Mobians do. Our schedules so rarely line up properly, and any time we've gotten to spend together has been co-opted by friends or missions, so I wanted tonight to feel…"

"Normal."

Shadow huffed out a little breath, his gaze fixed on his plate. "I realize that's not really something you're interested in, so I'm sorry if it's a bit boring, but-"

"No! No, Shadow," Sonic found himself rising from his seat for the second time that night, though he did not round the table this time. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his hands on the table so when Shadow lifted his gaze to look at him, he could see the conviction in Sonic's expression as he spoke. "I know how much basic things that other people take for granted, like just getting to have dinner together, mean to you. I want you to get to experience all of the things you missed out on, growing up in space. I know I'm Mister 'Gotta Go Fast', but I am more than happy to slow down with you to enjoy the little things in life. You're worth going slow for, Shadow."

The sudden flash of something dark in Shadow's eyes was not the reaction that Sonic expected from his little speech, his heart skipping a beat as the hybrid abruptly rose from his chair, the wood making a terrible screeching sound as the legs scraped across the floor. Sonic flinched as Shadow grabbed his hands, relaxing after a beat when that was as far as the action went.

"And you," Shadow breathed, getting into Sonic's space, pressing in until the back of Sonic's knees hit his chair and he had to dig his heels in or fall backwards into his seat, "are more than worth going fast for."

Sonic had to swallow hard to keep from whining at the way Shadow was staring at him now, his tail twitching in anticipation, before he finally let out a breathy moan when he was tugged into a hard kiss. Finally, finally, this was what he had been eagerly anticipating since his invitation, his tail a blur as he returned the kiss with vigor.

"Come with me," Shadow rumbled against Sonic's lips, smirking at the shiver that visibly shot up Sonic's spine at his words. Keeping a firm hold of the blue blur's hand, their half eaten dessert forgotten, he lead Sonic through the apartment and into his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind them. A pleased little hum escaped him as Sonic practically melted as he was pressed back into the door, the hero of Mobius reduced to a clingy puddle as Shadow resumed their kiss and pushed his tongue passed his teeth.

A string of saliva connected them briefly as Shadow pulled away from the kiss, a triumphant smirk settling over his features at the glazed over expression on Sonic's face. "Enjoying yourself, hedgehog?" the hybrid asked, taking a short step back.

Sonic simply whined as Shadow's heat slipped away from him, reaching out to try and catch the hybrid, only to grumble in frustration as Shadow stepped further back, just out of reach of the hero's clingy fingers. "Shadow," he whined, pushing himself off the door to follow after the darker hedgehog, only stopping to stare with wide eyes as Shadow languidly stripped his gloves and socks off, leaving behind only the glint of gold against his striking dark fur. He shot Sonic a sultry smirk over his shoulder, his tail flicking invitingly as he began to meander towards his bed.

"Don't keep me waiting, hedgehog," Shadow murmured, finally breaking Sonic out of his stupor. He was fairly certainly he'd never stripped his gloves and socks off so fast, tossing them only chaos knew where. He paused on his way to the bed to dig the bottle of lube he'd bought out of his quills, only to freeze like a deer caught in headlights with his hand still shoved deep into blue spikes as he moved to climb onto the bed.

Shadow had settled himself into the pile of pillows at the head of his bed, his relaxed quills spread out tantalizingly across them. He was watching Sonic with half-lidded eyes, his knees bent and spread wide, showing off his swollen pouch, while his hands danced teasingly over his abdomen and through his chest fur. Sonic was fairly certain his mouth had never been more full of saliva, as he nearly drooled over Shadow's little display. A weird little chirrup-y sound left him as he finally pulled the bottle from his quills, though his feet remained glued to the carpet.

"Well?" Shadow purred, his knees spreading impossibly wider as he dipped one hand down to tease at the slit of his pouch. Sonic simply choked on air, unable to form enough of a thought to get himself to move. Which was apparently the worst possible thing he could do, because as the seconds dragged on, Shadow quite obviously began to second guess himself. His knees snapped together in a flash as doubt obviously made itself at home in his mind, his cheeks flaming red as he sat up from the pillows, scowl on his muzzle. "I…forget it. This was stupid," he grumbled, his distress finally jarring Sonic's body into motion.

In a flash Sonic was on the bed, tossing the bottle into the pillows so he could get place his hands on Shadow's legs, rubbing his thumbs against the insides of the hybrid's calves in what he hoped was a reassuring or comforting gesture. "Hey! Shadow, no no no. Chaos, I'm so sorry," Sonic soothed, hating how Shadow's ears were pinned back in embarrassment when that had been, bar none, the most erotic display Sonic had ever seen in his entire life. Now he just had to convince Shadow of the same thing, or risk never getting to see the ultimate lifeform beckon him between his knees again. "You short circuited my brain a bit there, that's all," Sonic said with an apologetic little laugh, "I was expecting you to top, if I'm being honest. Got myself all prepped and ready, so I was not expecting to find the most amazing creature ever created splayed out across the bed like that for me." The immediate flick of Shadow's ears towards him at the praise made Sonic smile.

"…Did you want me to top?" Shadow asked after a beat, instead of addressing anything Sonic had just said, earning a fond eye roll from the hero.

"Only if you want to. I just figured, with how you like to be in control of situations pretty much all the time, that'd just carry through to the bedroom. I'm more than happy, either way," Sonic reassured, petting down Shadow's calves to rest his hands on the inhibitor rings at his ankles.

"That's the exact reason I didn't want to," Shadow muttered, causing Sonic to frown in mild confusion. He let out a tiny huff of air, glaring at the blue hero for a moment, before deflating and ducking his head slightly. "I was doing some reading in preparation for tonight, and I wound up on a website which discussed different sexual positions, preferences, and so forth. I wanted to be well prepared for any direction the evening may have gone, and I…I found a particular article talking about 'bottoming' or being a submissive, and I thought it would be nice to-to have someone I trust be in control." He peered up at Sonic, his cheeks significantly less red than they had been before, but still distinctly pink tinged. "And I," he cleared his throat, looking away quickly as he spoke, his ears pinning back once more, "I wanted to know what it would feel like to have someone inside me who I chose to let in."

"Shadow," Sonic breathed, his own cheeks flushed, but for completely different reasons than Shadow. His tail whipped back and forth as he leaned further into the hybrid's space, startling Shadow into falling back into his pillows with a put upon grunt. "That is, simultaneously very sweet, incredibly touching, and the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I…Really?"

"I wouldn't have said it if it weren't true," Sonic hummed, sliding his hands back up Shadow's legs to gently wiggle his fingers in between the hybrid's knees. Slowly, he pushed Shadow's knees apart and pressed into the space it made, smiling encouragingly as Shadow relaxed further back into the pillows. "Now…I believe I have some making up to do, since I'm pretty sure neither of us are all too aroused anymore," he added, glancing down to find that, as expected, Shadow's pouch was very much flat and hidden by fur. He smirked at the way the hybrid squirmed at being observed, and how his tail curled up protectively over his crotch. "Now, now," Sonic soothed, planting his hands to either side of Shadow's chest and leaning in over the other, his smirk growing at the way Shadow's eyes grew wide at his somewhat domineering shift in demeanor, "I'm going to take good care of you, Shads. I promise. You trust me, right?"

"Of course," Shadow breathed, his claws absently digging into the bedsheets, ears pricked forward in interest.

"Good. Then first," Sonic hummed, pulling Shadow's hands from the sheets to burry them in his blue quills instead, "You can touch me. And you know I'm not fragile, so you can even use claws a little bit, if you want. Just be careful not to dig in too deep, okay?" A quick, jerky little nod from the hybrid was his only response, but he could feel Shadow's fingers toying with his quills, so he figured his words were getting through. With that, he dipped his head down and began to pepper Shadow with tiny kisses, starting from the side of his muzzle and working his way down, pausing only briefly to dig his fangs lightly into the juncture of Shadow's neck and shoulder, relishing the restrained little moan the action resulted in. "Don't be shy, Shadow," Sonic murmured into the hybrid's shoulder as he moved down to a fluffy white chest, taking a short moment to press his face into the soft fur there, "I want to hear you. You'll be a good boy and let me hear you, won't you?"

The moan that ripped out of Shadow was louder and more unrestrained than Sonic had been expecting. He jerked his head up to find Shadow's face beat red, one of his fangs digging into his lower lip as he stared at the ceiling like it had offended his mother. "Did you like that?" Sonic asked, a wicked grin on his lips as Shadow let out a strained grunt, obviously at war with his want to let go and his inherent need to hold himself to some impossible standard while maintaining control. "Hey, it's okay, Shadow," Sonic cooed, letting his fingers dance up and over the hybrid's sides, "I like that you want to be my good boy. And I like how loud you were. Let's me know I'm doing a good job, doesn't it?"

Slowly, between his gentle cajoling and tender caresses, Sonic could feel the tension the dark hedgehog held slowly melt away. He hummed happily at the way Shadow's ears rolled back into a relaxed, submissive position, and his gaze softened as he let his coiled muscles relax against the bed. "That's it, Shads," Sonic cooed, settling back down to resume his trail of kisses, "Such a good boy." The low moan that escaped Shadow this time was far less exuberant than the last, but just as thrilling to Sonic. He was fully aware of the sheer weight of the trust he was being given, as Shadow let the last vestiges of his walls fall down. It was a heady feeling, and Sonic was eager to ensure he kept it.

The low, rumbling purr that kicked up as Sonic's kisses moved over Shadow's stomach were an additional surprise that had the hero's ears perking forward eagerly. He lifted himself slightly to find Shadow's head tipped back, blinking slowly and obviously letting himself slip away into Sonic's tender ministrations, if the way his gaze seemed unfocused and his fingers lazily stroked through blue quills were anything to go by. Sonic smirked, chewing on his lip for a moment, before making one of his signature snap decisions. He quickly dipped his head and ran his tongue over Shadow's now prominent pouch bulge, the tip of his tongue just barely pressing into the slit there. He braced himself as Shadow let out a startled grunt, Sonic fully anticipating the way the dark hedgehog's fingers tightened and pulled at his quills as his purr guttered out.

"S-sorry," Shadow's breathy apology sent a shiver down Sonic's spine, his tail happily wagging away as he grinned up at the hybrid, while Shadow pet apologetically at his head.

"No need to apologize, Shads," Sonic hummed happily, licking his lips languidly, "I didn't exactly give you any warning. Do you mind if I continue?"

Shadow gave his head a short shake, his low purr starting up again as Sonic scattered a few soft kisses to his inner thighs, before letting his tongue slide back over Shadow's pouch. He was infinitely curious to know what Shadow was packing, if he was being completely honest with himself. The thought had occupied his mind on a handful of occasions, resulting in more than one swift trip to the bathroom to either clean himself up or take a cold shower. He was a touch disappointed that he wouldn't get the opportunity to ride Shadow like he'd imagined this time around, but getting to swallow him down would be a good consolation price. As such, he let out his own happy little moan as the tip of Shadow's cock began to poke out of his pouch, his tail practically turning into a blur as he laved his tongue once more over the slit, before closing his mouth over it and sucking. He jerked a bit as Shadow's hands suddenly shoved down on his head, a startled shout from the hybrid accompanying the action as Shadow's girth rapidly slid into Sonic's mouth, very much choking the hedgehog as the length of it was a bit more than he had been expecting. He squirmed in Shadow's hold, lifting his head quickly and sucking in a deep breath once the hybrid's hands were out of his quills, and his cock out of his throat. He was never quite so thankful to not have a particularly strong gag reflex.

"Are you okay?" Shadow wheezed, looking a mix of dazed and apologetic, his hands hovering in the air, reaching for Sonic.

"Y-yeah," Sonic coughed, rubbing at his throat with a light wince, though he shot Shadow a quick smile of reassurance, "Caught me off guard, is all."

"That's an understatement…"

Sonic snorted, finally looking a bit bashful as he shrugged slightly. "Sorry, not sorry?"

Shadow simply chuckled, letting his hands drop to the bed, digging them into his own quills as he nestled more fully into his pillows. "Of course you're not sorry."

"Nope," Sonic chirped, finally looking down to see what he was working with, only for his mouth to flood with saliva at the sight. It was no wonder Shadow had choked him, despite his lack of gag reflex. The hybrid's cock was girthy and long, with a tantalizing looking ridge of little bumps lining the underside. He swallowed and ran his fingers up along the side of Shadow's spit slick dick, grinning madly at the whine and shiver the simple little touch elicited from Shadow. "Especially not when this is my prize."

"Sonic," Shadow murmured, almost pleading. It was such a wild departure from what Sonic was used to, it made him all the more eager to please his partner and make this a night Shadow would never forget. If only so that he would get to experience it over and over again.

"I've got you, Shads," Sonic hummed, momentarily casting his gaze around at the pillows to locate the little bottle of lube he'd haphazardly tossed there earlier. Quickly, he snatched it up, holding it so Shadow could see the label when he was cast a curious look. "I'm gonna prep you now, okay?" He leaned in to press a brief kiss to Shadow's mouth at the hybrid's nod of ascent, before sliding back down the bed, slathering his fingers in lube as he went, before taking the tip of Shadow's cock into his mouth. He began to bob his head a little as he gently swirled his fingers over Shadow's entrance, not missing the way the hybrid tensed slightly at the touch. Sonic had little to no doubt that no matter how many experiences the other may have had, he was definitely the first partner Shadow let top, and as such he was bound and determined to go as slow and gently as possible to make this the best possible experience Shadow could have.

Once the hybrid was used to his touch and had sufficiently relaxed, Sonic gingerly pressed the tip of his finger inside, dipping his head to swallow down nearly half of Shadow's length in order to distract from the intrusion. Luckily, this time Shadow's fingers dug into own pillows instead of Sonic's quills, though his hips did jump up a bit, causing Sonic to draw back and click his tongue quietly. "You gotta relax, Shads," he murmured, methodically pumping his finger in and out of Shadow as the hybrid panted above him, "Much as I enjoy your cock in my throat, I'd like it to be on my own terms, yeah?" His only reply was a short nod from Shadow, and the hybrid squeezing his eyes shut as he forced his hips back down onto the bed. "Mmm, that's a good boy," Sonic sighed, rubbing at Shadow's stomach with his free hand, not missing the low whine that left the hybrid at the pet name.

Sonic continued to prep Shadow slowly while laving attention on his cock, pausing every time the other squirmed or made a sound of distress. It made the whole process about three times longer than Sonic was used to, but as he'd told Shadow over dinner, the hybrid was more than worth going slow for, especially now. And he couldn't even say that he wasn't enjoying the tedious process, given that he'd never seen Shadow so free with himself. Sonic was committing every soft whine, quiet plead and aborted movement to memory. Truly, he wished he had a camera so he could go back later to rewatch Shadow come undone beneath him on repeat.

Finally, when Sonic was three fingers deep and Shadow looked like he was near tears as little strings of babbled nonsense escaped him, Sonic figured he'd been thorough enough. Gingerly, he extracted his fingers, relishing in the whimper and low whine that left Shadow as he did so. "Hey now," he cooed, snatching the little bottle of lube up from the bed to pour some over his own sizable length, which had slipped free of his pouch while he'd been tending to the hybrid and had begun to weep precum against the sheets, "The best is yet to come. No need to whine." He chuckled at the soft scowl Shadow shot him, the hybrid's ear pressed back as he barred his teeth a little. "C'mon," Sonic hummed, tapping the head of his cock against Shadow's entrance teasingly, "What's the magic word?"

"F-fuck you," Shadow nearly snarled, though it was breathy at best, while his hips shifted to press down to try to force Sonic inside.

"Ah, ah, ah," Sonic shook his head, drawing back and grinning at the way Shadow huffed and arched his back. "The point of this activity is to fuck you," he added, snorting as Shadow dug his head into the pillows with a grunt, "Now…What's the magic word? Don't you want to be a good boy?"

That seemed to be Shadow's magic word, as his hips dropped and his chest gave a slight heave as he sucked in a deep breath. Tentatively, he peered up at Sonic, the grasp on his last few shreds of control seemingly slipping away. "Please," he whispered, whimpering as Sonic shifted forward to rub the tip of his dick against Shadow's entrance once more.

"A little bit louder, Shads. I didn't quite catch that."

"Please!" Shadow shouted, uncharacteristically desperate. His eyes were pleading as he pushed his hips down, his back arched with the movement, and his claws digging into the pillow behind his head enough that it looked two seconds from being torn in half.

"That's my good boy," Sonic cooed, letting himself finally sink into Shadow's welcoming heat.

The sob that followed caught the hero completely off guard, faltering at the sight of tears slowly rolling down Shadow's muzzle and dampening his fur. He quickly scrambled to pull out, worry coursing through him at the thought that he'd somehow managed to hurt Shadow, despite his thorough stretching. However, upon shifting his hips he found Shadow's legs firmly clamped around his torso, forcing him to either stay still or move forward. He swallowed thickly, reaching down to pet at Shadow's stomach, since he certainly wasn't about to press forward while the hybrid was actively crying.

"Shads? Hey, Shadow? Can you look at me?" Sonic pleaded, worrying his bottom lip as Shadow slowly blinked teary eyes open to stare up at the hero, his vision blatantly unfocused. "Hi there," Sonic cooed, offering the other a tentative smile as he continued to pet at Shadow, "You okay?"

A slow nod was Sonic's only reply.

"Okay, well…you're crying. Are you aware of that?"

Shadow frowned lightly, pulling a hand free of the pillows to swipe at his face, his brows arching in bewilderment as he wiped away tears.

"I'll take that as a no…Are you hurt?"

A short shake of his head was Shadow's reply as he stared at his now damp fingers.

"Okay…you wanna keep going?"

"Mmm," Shadow hummed, nudging his feet against Sonic's lower back, forcing the hero's hips forward an inch, a low groan leaving Shadow as Sonic sunk a little deeper into him. He let his hand fall back into the pillows, his own worry over his tears obviously nowhere near what Sonic's had been if the way he rolled his hips was anything to go by.

"Alright. Well, you let me know if you do wanna stop, okay?" Sonic insisted, ignoring the grumble of irritation his lack of movement caused. "No, Shadow. This is important. You tell me if we need to stop. Okay?" Sonic waited patiently as Shadow rolled his head back with a groan, watching intently as the hybrid took a couple of deep breaths, before finally focusing back on Sonic, looking a bit more lucid this time.

"I will," Shadow rumbled, dancing his fingers up Sonic's arm, before digging them back into the pillow next to his head, "S'just a lot. S'good, though. Keep going." That seemed to be the extent Shadow was willing to keep focus, as he relaxed back into the pillows and nudged at Sonic's hips again, "Please."

"Mmm, how can I say no to that?" Sonic sighed, letting Shadow push him forward, essentially allowing the hybrid to set the pace as he ever so slowly pressed inside.

Once fully seated inside, Sonic buried his nose in Shadow's shoulder, lingering to let the other get used to the feeling of being full. He knew from experience that it could be a lot the first time, and he didn't want to accidentally overwhelm Shadow again by moving too soon. He smiled faintly as Shadow's hands moved from being dug into the bedding, to sunk into his quills, taking the opportunity as Shadow clung to him to suck a few more little love bites onto the hybrids shoulder and neck. He was so absorbed in his own little activity that he nearly choked on saliva and fur as Shadow's muscles suddenly clenched around him. For a moment, he'd thought it had been in response to his bites, as Shadow relaxed again when he pulled his face away. However, the hybrids' muscles clenched again without warning not a moment later, pulling a low whine from Sonic.

"Shadow?" He leaned a bit further back so he could get a look at the hybrid's face, only to find Shadow zoned out and staring at the ceiling, his lower lip caught between his teeth as his abdominal muscles methodically tensed and relaxed against and around Sonic. "Fuck," the hero grunted, gasping at a particularly hard clench, dropping to dig his face into Shadow's chest. He knew it wasn't the intention by any means, but it practically felt like Shadow was trying to milk him. "Shads," Sonic groaned, gasping as Shadow shifted his hips at the same time as he clenched his muscles, the hero's self restraint holding on by an extremely thin thread, "Shadow, please."

That seemed to snap the hybrid out of whatever strange little zen moment he'd gotten caught up in, letting his hips drop to the bed and going lax beneath Sonic. Letting out a little breath, Sonic sat back, drawing out slowly as he moved. He couldn't help the fond little chuckle that left him as Shadow gasped and whimpered at the loss, only to moan happily as Sonic easily slid right back in. "I've got you," Sonic sighed, starting up an unhurried pace, drawing nearly all the way out and pressing back in, in long, steady strokes. "That's it," he hummed, watching in rapt attention as Shadow's gaze went completely unfocused, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as his beath came out in short, sharp little gasps. "So good for me, Shadow," he began to ramble, experimenting with his angle every other thrust to see how the dark hedgehog would react, "You're taking me so well. Look at you." He grinned as Shadow's hips suddenly shot up, accompanied by a choked gasp. A tell tale signal to Sonic that he'd hit the hybrid's prostate.

Sonic leisurely ground into that spot inside Shadow a few times, biting at his lip as he watched thick beads of precum drip from Shadow's cock onto his belly. "Fuck…just look at you," he breathed, shifting to lift Shadow's legs over his shoulders so he could bury himself inside just that little bit deeper. "Wish you could see yourself like this, Shads," he groaned, his pace picking up slightly, earning punched out little gasps from Shadow, "So gorgeous. Head totally empty, all spread open and stuffed full of my cock." He pressed a sloppy kiss to the inside of Shadow's knee, leaning in and practically bending the hybrid in half as his hips sped up further, the sounds pouring out of Shadow's mouth nearly loud enough to rattle the walls.

"Such. A. Good. Boy," Sonic grunted, punctuating each word with a sharp, hard thrust, feeling his end rapidly approaching. He grunted as he ground himself into Shadow as deep as he could go, leaning up to languidly drag his tongue over Shadow's ear, the sensitive appendage flicking against his mouth. "Touch yourself," Sonic practically growled into Shadow's ear, "Let me see you cum." He shifted back once he felt Shadow's hand trying to wriggle in between their bodies, a feral little grin on his face as the hybrid hurried to obey, wrapping his fingers around his length and stroking quickly. "Good boy, Shadow," Sonic growled out, picking up his brisk pace once more, chasing his own release as Shadow's back arched off the bed with a broken moan. "Cum on my cock, pet. Cum all over yourself for me," he grunted, nipping at the inside of Shadow's knee and letting out a pleased groan as Shadow spasmed below him, his muscles convulsing as ropes of white painted his belly and a thready shout ripped from his lungs. "Mmm, that's my good, obedient boy," Sonic cooed, before slamming his hips home and emptying himself as deep inside Shadow as he could push.

The two sat entangled for a moment, their panting breaths echoing though the room the only sound. Finally, Sonic shifted minutely, an apologetic smile on his face as he carefully slid Shadow's legs down from his shoulders. "Ah, sorry about…well, my mouth sort of ran off without me," he said with a light chuckle, his thumbs swirling little circles through the damp fur of the hybrid's thighs, "I didn't meant to make it weird…" As he moved to pull out, he found Shadow's legs had shifted to wrap around his hips, effectively pinning him in place. He blinked, about to ask Shadow what was up, when the hybrids arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, very nearly smashing his nose into the other's shoulder. "Ah! Oh? Uh…cuddles? Is that what you want?" Shadow's deep, rumbling purr began to kick up again as Sonic settled against him, so he figured that was the correct answer. He supposed there were worse things than being koala cuddled by your boyfriend while still buried balls deep inside him. He let out a quiet sigh, nuzzling into the side of Shadow's muzzle and letting his own purr reverberate through his chest.

Sonic stayed like that until he could feel his dick starting to retract into his pouch, at which point he figured it was time the two of them get cleaned up. Gingerly, he pried Shadow's arms from around his neck, while planting a quick kiss to the hybrid's cheek. "Mmm, I think it's time to get up, Shads," he sighed, sitting up and back, unable to help himself but to glance down as he finally fully slipped free of Shadow's heat, watching as his spend slowly began to seep out of the hybrid's entrance. He bit his lip to try and hide his self satisfied grin at how he'd marked the 'ultimate lifeform', though his tail easily betrayed him as it wagged happily away. "Look at you, Shads," he murmured, pushing one of Shadow's knees further out to spread the hybrid open wider, "So pretty…"

He frowned, his purr coming to a stuttering stop as it finally occurred to him that Shadow wasn't making some snide remark back at him for his comment, or snapping at him for staring. As a matter of fact, he hadn't really said anything since letting Sonic know that he was okay after crying. He dragged his gaze up to Shadow's face, a little worried at what he might find, and more than a little worried to find Shadow still looking nearly as dazed as he had been in the throws of passion, though curiously the hybrid was still purring loudly.

"Shadow?" He shakily pet at Shadow's side, when something he'd read only the week before suddenly popped into his head. At the time, he'd thought Rouge was just being her regular, mildly vulgar, cheeky self when she'd sent Sonic several links about dominant/submissive relationships, and aftercare instructions. He'd scoffed when he'd opened them, thinking she'd been trying to pull his chain about how rough Shadow was going to be with him. Now he was wondering if, perhaps, she'd been trying to subtly support Shadow in her own weird way by sending Sonic some rather informative links. He hadn't really had any intention of reading the articles, but now he was quite thankful for his natural, insatiable curiosity. If he was recalling correctly, Shadow was likely in some sort of 'subspace', probably brought on from pushing himself to give up his control to Sonic, and the hero continuously putting particular emphasis on praising the hybrid as a 'good boy'. Nothing too serious, but he needed to snap Shadow out of it slowly to make sure the other didn't suddenly become overwhelmed.

"Hey," Sonic cooed, reaching both hands up to gently cup Shadow's face, softly brushing his thumbs along the other's cheek bones, "Shadow? Hey, pet…I need you to focus on my voice, okay? You were such a good boy, but I need you to focus now, alright?"

"…I was good?"

Sonic's ears immediately perked up at Shadow's soft words, nodding happily at the other. "Yes! You were so good. Now, just listen to my voice and come back to me. You did so well, I just need you to keep listening to me…"

It took a bit of soft cajoling, but Shadow's gaze finally seemed to snap into focus on Sonic as he took a deep breath, a full body shiver over taking him as he lifted his hands to cover the cobalt blue ones on his face. "Sonic…"

"There you are," Sonic sighed happily, leaning to pepper feather light kisses over Shadow's face, his toes curling happily at the soft chuckle he managed to pull from the hybrid. He sat back on his haunches once he felt the hybrid was sufficiently peppered, resting his hands on Shadow's knees and absently rubbing them. "You doing okay?"

"Yes," Shadow murmured, rubbing at his face with a quiet grunt, "Though, that was…unexpected."

"Good unexpected, or bad unexpected?"

"Mmm…that remains to be seen."

"…How's that?"

Shadow chuckled quietly. "I'm trying to decide if it's worth it to allow you to call me 'pet'."

"Ah," Sonic flushed, lopsided grin on his face, "Sorry. That really was heat of the moment. It just sort of slipped out."

"I'm sure it was," Shadow muttered, shifting to sit up, only to cringe at the feeling of Sonic's cum dribbling out of his entrance. "That's-"

"I got it!" Sonic cut Shadow off, zooming away, only to reappear a moment later with a damp washcloth in hand. "Here," he hummed, placing a hand on Shadow's chest to encourage him to lay back, while carefully cleaning up the mess he'd left with the cloth.

"It's cold," Shadow grumbled, flopping back into his pillows.

"Yeah, sorry," Sonic sighed, looking sheepish, "Didn't really have time to let the water warm up. But! How about I go run us a bath? I saw the fancy tub in the bathroom, and nothing feels nicer after sex than a warm bath."

"Is that so?" Shadow hummed, rolling onto his side as Sonic slipped off the bed. "Speaking from experience?"

"Oh, yeah," Sonic grinned, shooting Shadow a wink, "Having someone else wash your quills after an orgasm? One of my top ten favorite experiences."

"Well, then. I guess I have to try it for myself."

"You got it," Sonic chirped, bouncing on his toes. He quickly swooped in to press a brief kiss to Shadow's cheek, taking note of the smitten little smile on the hybrid's face that he was sure Shadow thought he was moving to fast to see, before shooting off to the bathroom to start the bath. For good measure, he added a few splashes from the various bottles around the tub into the water, humming in satisfaction at the enticing aroma that flooded the bathroom. The resulting smattering of bubbles across the waters surface was a nice bonus, too.

When he returned to the bedroom, Sonic found Shadow sliding from the bed, his toes just about to touch carpet, before Sonic zipped over and scooped him into a bridal carry with a cheeky grin.

"I can walk!" Shadow snarked, punching Sonic in the shoulder with no real power behind it.

"I'm aware," Sonic hummed, waltzing out of the room, "But this is just nicer, isn't it?" He concluded that Shadow must agree with him, as the hybrid did little more than huff quietly and fold his arms over his chest. He chuckled and kicked the door shut once they were in the bathroom, striding over to the tub and snorting when Shadow's arms suddenly coiled around his neck tightly. "…Seriously? You think I'm going to drop you in the tub?"

"It's you. Of course I do."

Sonic rolled his eyes, gingerly placing Shadow in the tub before reaching to shut off the faucet. "Give me at least a little credit, Shads," he sighed, stepping into the tub himself after snatching a couple of wash clothes from under the sink. "That'd be no way to treat my perfect little pet, now would it?"

Shadow bristled and growled quietly under his breath, earning a soft chuckle from Sonic. "Careful, hedgehog."

"Yeah, yeah," Sonic hummed, poking at Shadow to get him to turn around in the tub, pouring some soap into his quills and digging his fingers in once the other finally decided to cooperate. "Anyway…what did you think? Still worth going fast for?"

"Hmm?" Shadow sounded somewhat dreamy as Sonic's fingers dug into his quills, tilting his head slightly to glance over his shoulder. "What? The sex? Or the bath?"

"Uh, either? Both?"

"The bath is good," Shadow sighed with a little nod, turning to face forward again, "As for the sex…I knew it was going to be messy. That alone never really made it very appealing to me. But…I enjoyed it. It was nice to let go and know I was going to be cared for. So, for that, thank you, Sonic."

"You're welcome? Never really been thanked for sex before, so this is new," Sonic snorted quietly in amusement, grabbing the shower head to rinse the soap from Shadow's quills.

"I don't expect it will be a reoccurring thing," Shadow chuckled, turning around once Sonic indicated he was free of soap, "But for the first time? Especially since I hadn't realized what would happen…I appreciate that you kept calm and helped bring me back to myself."

"Well," Sonic admitted, blushing slightly as he sunk into the water, "I might've…Rouge might've sent me some reading material."

"Of course she did," Shadow snorted, rolling his eyes. "Even still. For a first experience, you certainly made it enjoyable."

Sonic froze blinking up at Shadow from the water, squinting slightly. "Wait…Wait a minute," he sat up, water sloshing over the edge of the tub, much to Shadow's chagrin. Several casual comments and the way Shadow had acted suddenly fit together like little puzzle pieces in Sonic's head. "You were a virgin?!"

Shadow simply stared at him with an unamused arch of his brow. "Yes? I would have thought that was obvious."

"Wh-no?! You're, like, the coolest guy around! And ridiculously attractive! How?!"

Shadow couldn't help the little chuckle that left him at Sonic's astonishment, twirling his finger in the air to indicate that the hero should turn around so he could return the favor of washing his quills. He finally spoke once Sonic situated himself with his back to Shadow. "It's simple, really," he hummed, rubbing soap into Sonic's quills, "No one else was worth my time."

"I-" Sonic sunk into the water as a flush spread over his cheeks, only to squeak as Shadow prodded him into sitting back up, "That's both incredibly sweet, and a little bit conceded."

"I'm not wrong."

With a soft laugh as Shadow rinsed soap from his quills, he couldn't help but quietly agree.

"Oh, and I've decided," Shadow later commented out of the blue, once the tub was drained and they were both wrapped in oversized, fluffy towels and sat huddled together on fresh blankets on Shadow's bed.

"Yeah? What'd you decide?"

"That I don't mind."

"Mind what, Shads?"

"Hmm…being your 'pet'."

A self satisfied grin danced across Shadow's lips as Sonic choked on air.

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 3

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 5.08k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up!

Past (iii) - You

[16 & 17] - THE CAPITOL

When you were six, Eleven had a bad year for crops. Of course, the ones who felt the brunt of it were the district citizens. Your parents had given you half of their rations plus your own, but that still wasn't much and you were starving. So you snuck into the woods in hopes of finding something to eat when you saw it. A coyote stuck on its side, legs too frail to lift itself. 

It looked gaunt, ribs protruding and spine on display. You knew hunger personally enough to recognize it anywhere. But even as weak as it was, it looked at you like you were prey—growling and snapping its teeth from where it laid on its side. 

You knew it could hurt you. No matter how weak it looked, it was still stronger than you and all it would take was one bite for you to get some kind of infection. With how weak your immune system was, something like that would have killed you almost instantly. So you left it there.

As you sit in front of President Snow, you can't help but be reminded of that coyote. 

He's paler in person, face thinner up close. That doesn't make him any less imposing. You fidget in your seat and glance at the door. You know there are four Peacekeepers stationed outside, guns full of ammo. They'll shoot you down without a second thought if Snow wills it, put a bullet in your skull at the snap of his fingers. 

There are dozens of white roses around you, tucked inside vases on any available surface. Almost innocent if not for their cloying scent. It gives you a headache. You’ve never seen so many roses outside of a funeral.

When you received the letter requesting your presence, you were at a loss. The next Victory Tour wasn't for a couple of months. What business do you have in the Capitol? 

You're so concentrated on your surroundings that it surprises you when he finally starts talking. 

"Forgive me, I never personally commended you for your games. I would have done so a year ago, of course, but there were complications." His gruff voice carries in the room. Your shoulders are stiff with tension. 

Is that it? He invited you to the Capitol—to his office— to what? To salute you? Your stylist didn't have you plucked and waxed just for a pat on the back. There must be more behind this, not that you would ever call him out on that. 

He opens a drawer on his right and pulls out an intricately designed, rectangular canister. He places it in front of you, takes off the lid, and picks up a gold-wrapped piece of candy. 

"Many people don't get to relish in the luxuries of the Capitol. For example, this candy. You didn't get to have many of these growing up in Eleven, did you," he chuckles when you shake your head. He knew the answer to that question before he asked it, "No, of course not. But you're a victor now, you should indulge. Butterscotch?" He offers and it feels like bait. 

You're not sure if you can work up the nerve to say no to him, even over something as trivial as a piece of candy. You nod and he raises his eyebrow. You clear your throat, "Yes, please." 

"Good girl." He mutters approvingly, gloved fingers brushing your palm as he hands the candy to you. You barely hold back a flinch. 

He watches you unwrap the candy and place it in your mouth. It's quiet. You can feel your heartbeat in your teeth. 

"It's good, isn't it?" He asks rhetorically but doesn't continue speaking. He just stares. You can't tell if he wants you to answer or not. And when you finally open your mouth to say something, he cuts you off.

"There's something on your mind. Say it." 

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I—I just didn't think my games were impressive enough to garner your attention." You barely did anything worth a spectacle. Your games might have been entertaining, but you're no Finnick Odair. 

“Now, let's be honest with each other. You're thinking, ‘Surely, he didn't invite me here just to congratulate me’, yes?” He smiles with an encouraging nod, almost like a schoolteacher. Are you that easy to read? First Finnick, now him.

You nod, unsure if any noise that comes out of your mouth will be intelligible. 

"You're quite clever for someone of your background. That's why people love you so much. And it's that love that brings you here today. The people want more of you." 

"I didn't know I was so popular." You naively thought the hype surrounding you and your games would die off with the entrance of a new victor. Will you be interviewed by Caesar? Doing another photoshoot for Capitol Couture? 

“I want to explain something to you, my dear, in a way you’ll understand. Imagine a wolf wanders onto your farm—you know what a wolf is, yes? This wolf hasn’t killed any of your cattle, but it has the potential to. Now, you could always get rid of the wolf, kill it, but that’s only a temporary solution. There will always be other wolves.” He scolds you as if you were the one to suggest it and not him. “Why go through the effort of killing it, when you can tame it—give the wolf a bone, so to speak. You earn its loyalty and it protects the cattle from other predators.” You aren’t sure you really follow what he’s trying to say. Are you the wolf? The cattle? You certainly don’t own the farm.

"In the past, I’ve always resorted to getting rid of my wolves. But I’ve found it’s easier to domesticate them. I'll be completely transparent with you as I want no misunderstandings between us. I am in the business of making wolves happy. And something that'll make them very happy is you," your knees ache with how hard you're gripping them, "not even the most blue-blooded citizens can fight the allure of spending a night with a victor. Especially one as captivating as yourself." 

You stare at each other. Your eyes stunned, his apathetic. You’re able to decipher his needlessly complicated metaphor and you wish he was talking about actual wolves. You’d rather take your chances with the predators in the woods than the ones in the Capitol.

“I...I'm sorry, I don't understand. If this is a money thing—” 

"No, I don't do this for money. Although there is a substantial fee involved, the people who are pushing for this are my key endorsers. You provide this service for them and I ensure their loyalty. Wolf, meet bone." 

You shake your head, suddenly nauseous. "Why would I agree to that?" 

"Why? Do you not care about your mother? What of Seeder and her poor children," he asks, tsking at your confusion. "Eleven is our most populated district. It can stand to lose a few people." You hear the threat he's not saying and throwing up becomes a very, very real possibility. 

You say nothing, swallowing around fear and vomit. He leans back in his chair, probably sickly satisfied at how subdued he’s got you.

You've never hated anyone as much as you hate the man before you. Not the peacekeeper that executed your father, or the Crop Overseer that made it her mission to touch as many of the young farmhands as she could. He's going to whore you out to the highest bidder. No, he's giving your body away like a party favor. 

He steeples his fingers. "There's a party tonight. I can expect to see you there, hmm?" 

You nod slowly before remembering what he wants. "Yes, sir." 

"Good," he releases a puff of air from his nose that you can almost count as a laugh. He slides a key card across the desk. "You will be staying at the Marquis Hotel in room 2077. There are only two people with access to the door: you and the Avox in charge of cleaning it. Unless stated otherwise, you will hold all of your appointments in this room." He's given you the top floor, you note faintly. 

"You will receive your assignments from me personally," he sits a paper card face-down in front of you. "This is the name of your client and what time you can expect them to knock on your door. Along with your room number, in case it slips your mind." You pick both cards off the desk, almost expecting them to burn your fingers. But they're just objects. The only thing that can hurt you here is Snow. 

"You've been very compliant thus far. I hope it's a trait you continue to possess in the future." The sound of his leather gloves squeaking against each other draws your attention for a beat. It's a welcome distraction from the blood rushing in your ears. "Now, there's something important I must ask you." 

You look up at him, shaking where you sit. You know your face is twisted into a scowl and you dig your nails into your thighs. 

What more does he want from you? He’s practically squeezing a stone, expecting blood, but can’t he see you have nothing left for him to take? But there’s something Snow knows that you haven’t considered. If you squeeze a rock hard enough, you get diamonds. Finnick finds you with your back pressed to the wall like you’re the only thing keeping it up, scowling at anyone who tries to start up a conversation with you. 

"What's got you pouting, beautiful?" He teases, approaching you with a good-natured smile. 

He leans in next to you, close enough that your bare arm brushes his satin-covered chest with every breath. He's a drink or two in, you can tell by the slant of his eyes and the flush in his cheeks. 

You contemplate it for a second. Should you tell him? You need someone to talk to, or just to listen to you and he's the closest thing you've ever had to a friend in a very long time, especially in the Capitol. That certainly means something to you. You’re so far from your natural habitat and there’s safety in numbers. Though, you guess you’ve never really left the forest, have you? The same rules apply in the Capitol as they do in the wilderness: blend into your surroundings and if a predator spots you, pray to God they lose interest.

"Can I trust you, Finnick?" You ask in place of an answer, eyes locked on the crowd. Snow never said that you had to keep your arrangement to yourself, but it didn't hurt to be safe. You want to confide in him more than anything, but you need to be sure that Finnick won't trade your secret for another. 

He straightens, sobering at your sudden seriousness. "Yeah. Yeah, of course." 

You stare at him for a moment. You've talked to Finnick a handful of times and only had two meaningful conversations that didn't involve either of you flirting. By all means, you shouldn't trust him. 

But you do. You really do.

You take him by the hand and pull him behind you, dodging socialites left and right, to a narrow corridor that nobody frequents. There are too many ears out there and the only people that walk down this hall are Avoxes. And it's not like they can tell anyone what they hear. 

You stand across from each other, so close that your heels touch his boots when he leans against the wall. You open your mouth, hesitate, and close it. 

Finnick pushes off the wall to touch your shoulder, leaning down to try to catch your eye. "What happened?" 

You keep your gaze down; you don't know if you can stomach the look he'll give you when you tell him. 

“Snow…” You trail off, losing steam fast. Finnick stiffens, his grip on your shoulder as tight as a corpse’s.

“What did Snow do?”

You launch into your explanation, starting with the letter you received and ending with the last question Snow asked you. 

"And, when I agreed, he asked me if…if I was still a virgin. Apparently, there's a high demand for my first time." You pick at the skin around your nails, a habit your prep team admonished you for. Nothing pretty about bleeding, peeling fingers. 

You bite the bullet and look up. His sea-green eyes are rocky and there's a grimace on his face. An angry tilt to his mouth, but that's it. No shock, no disgust, none of the emotions that this kind of revelation warrants. You take in his stance. He's tense, but he's not surprised. Almost as if he expected this.

"Finnick, are you...?" Your voice peters out lamely, unable to put words to what Snow is making you do, what you suspect he's been making Finnick do. 

He rocks on his heels and lets out a slow puff of air from his nose. "Since I won my games." 

You shake your head. That can't be right. "You were only fourteen." 

"Only a select few in Snow's private circle could indulge in my services at first. But once I hit sixteen," he shrugs with a mean smile, "I was fair game." Of course. You had thought Finnick was handsome when he first won, in that passing way thirteen-year-olds often thought of others. Obviously, it was a shared consensus. 

And Snow had said that he planned on speaking to you sooner—when you were younger. Stupid of you to think that he was swayed by something as trivial as morals. 

"Who else is he forcing to do this?" 

"You, me, and any other attractive victor with something to lose." The sleeves of his white blouse rub together as he crosses his arms, a sneer stretched on his pretty face. You're quiet. You think of Seeder. You think of Chaff and Haymitch. Cashmere and Gloss. You think of fourteen-year-old Finnick. You think of them in the same chair you were in, guns at their back and faced with an impossible task. 

Were they as scared as you? 

"I had thought...I thought that he wouldn't ask you," he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes that you recognize. It's the same one he had during that first dance. But you can distinguish it now because you feel it; he looks haunted, "Usually, he'd spring it on you as soon as you win, but he didn't with you, so I thought—I hoped …" He cuts himself off, staring over your shoulder. He bites his lip so hard you know it has to hurt. 

You reach forward, using your thumb to pull his lip away from his teeth. He looks between your eyes for a second and you drop your hand. "Hoped what, Finnick?" 

He clenches and unclenches his jaw. "I hoped you were safe." That's...you don't know what that is. Your heart is beating so fast you can feel it knocking against your ribcage. You lean your head back with a sigh. You close your eyes and resist the urge to rub at your chest. That's not supposed to happen. This isn't supposed to happen. 

"It almost sounds like you care about me." You joke, voice wavering. You can't do this right now. 

"I do," his arms drop beside him with another shrug, "I care about you." He says plainly, eyes locked on you. Evidently, he's not one to beat around the bush and, usually, you aren’t either. You don't say anything. Speechless is probably a better word for it. And then, he continues on like what he said isn't a revelation within itself. 

"Snow says it's to ensure loyalty, and maybe that's true, but it's not the only reason. His goal, above all else, is to further drive the wedge between victors and the Capitol," he says, an echo of your first conversation. "We're not human, not to them. He made sure of that." 

Neither of you talks, the silence heavy with the truth of that statement. You're well informed now, and you aren't alone in your imprisonment to Snow. You aren't sure what to do with that. It certainly doesn't make you feel better, and it doesn't change the fact that you only have two hours and forty minutes before your appointment. 

Finnick must be able to feel the anxiety wafting off you in waves because he grabs your hand and…pinches the skin between your thumb and forefinger? "What the hell are you doing?" You half-heartedly tug at his grip, more out of reflex than anything else, but he holds on tight. 

"It's a pressure point. You squeeze it when you're stressed or anxious—a trick I learned from Mags." He slides his thumb down to where the bone of your pointer finger meets your thumb and presses down. You both stand like that for at least ten seconds. 

"...It hurts." 

"It's supposed to," he laughs, soft lips pulled into a grin. "The pain, it's supposed to be distracting." It's definitely uncomfortable, but the only thing you're distracted by is his touch. You don't know if it's some kind of placebo effect or if this pressure point shit actually has some validity, but your heart doesn't feel like it'll beat through your ribs anymore. 

Or, the third option. It has nothing to do with the pressure point and everything to do with the man in front of you. This close, his scent engulfs you. Saltwater and something sweet buried under it, a smell you're sure will still be caught in your nose long after you go home. 

He digs in a pocket of his billowy pants and places a card in your hand. 

"Here," it's the same as the one Snow gave you. The only difference is the name, the time, and the room number. 2064, "It's one of my regulars, so I don't need it." He states in such a nonchalant manner, it almost sounds normal to you. 

"Regulars?" You frown before you can catch yourself. A seventeen-year-old shouldn't have regulars. 

"Don't make that face. I don't need your pity. We're in the same boat, remember?" He asks, but it's one of those rhetorical questions that only have one answer. 

"Right." At this point, the waves have capsized your boat. You're drowning, water filling your lungs, but at least you're drowning together. 

"Look, he puts us all on the same floor." He's still holding your hand with both of his. Like it's something delicate, something worth being gentle with. Like it hasn't taken lives. "If you need me, you know where to find me." He offers with a tender squeeze of your hand. And, despite yourself, you believe him. If you need him, Finnick will be there. 

A thought that's just as comforting as it is terrifying. He removes one of his hands from yours and thrusts it forward—correction, one of his pinkies forward in a gesture similar to the one you did months before. You only hesitate for a second before locking yours with his. 

A silent promise.

“Any advice?”

“Advice,” he laughs, short and brittle. “Yeah. Just…breathe and endure. It’s all any of us can really do.” His voice is angry, but his eyes are mournful. That’s definitely not the kind of advice you wanted to hear and you can tell it’s obviously not the kind he wants to give. But what were you expecting, some kind of miracle cure? That’s not the way this works. 

You could always just… disappear. If not physically, then mentally. A trick you picked up in Eleven when the grueling work days got especially long and—Finnick’s pinky is still locked with yours, you hadn’t even registered it. He doesn’t seem too nonplussed about the prolonged contact, quite the opposite, actually.

And, well, it's not like you're complaining.

Present (III) - Finnick

[23 & 24] - DISTRICT FOUR

The escort for District Four, Freesia Ashwind, stands before a rowdy crowd. Most, if not all, of the citizens, are excited to see who will represent them in the Games. 

It makes him sick. 

Finnick stares at the back of her magenta head and cracks his fingers behind him. 

When Finnick was younger, he hated her. Out of all the names she could have picked, all the lives she could have ruined, she picked his. She inadvertently had a hand in the years of suffering he endured. And when he was fourteen, alone and hurting, blaming Snow wasn't enough. 

It's different now. He's older and wiser, and he does still hate her, but no more than he hates every other Capitol. He tunes her out and tries to remember if he's had sex with her. 

After preaching the same spiel she's said every year, she finally says something of substance. 

"Now, normally, it's ladies first. However, since it's such a special occasion, how about we switch it up a bit?" The crowd roars, exhilarated, hanging on to her every word. He's sure she could recite the entire history of Panem and they'd cheer. District Four doesn't suck from the teat of the Capitol like One and Two do, but it's still a wealthy, Career district. 

She approaches the bowl on her right instead of her left. 

He stands alone as the sole male victor. There used to be three others, but they either drowned in their liquor or overdosed on their Morphling. Despite that, she makes a show of it. Swirling her hand around the empty bowl until she plucks the only paper out with a gasp, exaggerated in nature as most people of the Capitol are. 

"Finnick Odair!” He doesn’t know what he was expecting. There—there was no other outcome. Still, he goes cold, heart growing heavy with reality sinking into it. 

Finnick is a good actor. Maybe not the best, but he's certainly up there. Not many people could see through his veneer. It's fragile, cracks and instability on display to anyone who truly knows him—and even then, that's only three people. 

Two of them stand beside him now, waiting to see where the sword will fall. And the other…

Finnick waves to the cheering crowd with a closed-mouth smile. 

The other is lost to him. 

He plays up his enthusiasm, winking and waving. He dons the mask they chose for him: Golden boy of the Capitol, a born killer. Why wouldn't he be excited to get back in the ring? A couple more thoughts like that and maybe he'll start believing it. 

"Ladies next!" A hush settles over the crowd. No one is excited to see this. He glances to his left. Annie is shaking as Mags holds onto her. 

It's so quiet, Finnick can hear the tape tearing off the paper. 

"Annie Cres—” Annie is screaming before Freesia even finishes. He faces forward, biting his cheeks to shit. 

"Oh, it seems we have a volunteer!" He almost breaks his neck from turning so fast. Mags has her hand held high, gesturing to herself. 

The crowd cheers, but this time they cheer for Mags's bravery. Finnick feels like crying. 

As the cameras zoom in on them, he breaks protocol and goes to comfort her. He holds Mags close and kisses the top of her head. He's known her for most of his life and he's still surprised by her selflessness. She must know how high the deck is stacked against her. That, even with him beside her, the odds aren't in her favor. And she still volunteered. There's a reason you and her got along so well. 

He looks at Annie. Her hands are over her ears and she stares back mournfully, more lucid than she's been in years. She makes to come towards them before she's intercepted and ushered off the stage like a sheep. 

Finnick wonders who will take care of her with both of them gone. Annie may not be going into the arena, but this is just as much a death sentence for her as it is for them. 

Right about now, the reaping for Eleven should be taking place. 

Finnick knows Snow well, more than he'd ever admit. He knows, without a doubt, that he put Seeder's name in twice. 

But there's a chance that he doesn't know you as well as he thinks he does. Two years is plenty of time for a person to change. God, he hopes he's wrong about you. He hopes you've grown mean and callous, and you wouldn't even think about trading your life for someone else's. 

He hopes you're safe. 

Peacekeepers approach. Far more cordial than they'd be with the lower districts, but still gripping their guns tight. "Right this way, Mr. Odair." One of them says. He and Mags follow after him, like pampered pigs to the slaughter. 

Present (III) - You

[23 & 24 ] - DISTRICT ELEVEN  

You don't remember the walk to the stage. You've been out of it since the Quarter Quell was announced. You remember specific instances of Chaff forcing you and Seeder to train, your mother following you around like a shadow—and when you come to, it's to a sea of despondent faces. Every District Eleven resident, young and old, stands before you. 

Argon Wellway is the same announcer Eleven has had for the past five years. His neon purple hair remains stiff despite the breeze. You've always loved purple. It's an odd dichotomy to see something you love on something you hate. 

He steps to the mic, enthusiastic and jaunty despite the dour reception he receives from his audience.

"Hello, District Eleven! Are we excited for the Quarter Quell," he pauses with a wide smile, every tooth on display. The crowd stays silent, "Well, I certainly am. And so is everyone in the Capitol!" 

He steps back, attitude impervious to everyone around him. "Now, for the men!" 

You pity Chaff. He stands by himself on the left, bearing the weight of being the only male victor of Eleven. He never had a chance. 

Argon approaches the bowl on the left like a magician, showy with big movements. He pulls the card out and stands by the mic. "Chaff Mitchell!" 

Chaff doesn't move from where he stands, there's no point. 

Seeder takes your hand and you squeeze back with numb fingers. You don't know where her kids are, the mass of people too big to pick out three children, but you look for them nonetheless. You wonder what they're feeling. You wonder what you’re feeling.

"On to the female victors. This one is especially exciting, a fifty-fifty chance!" There's not a wrinkle on his face as he smiles, skin too tight with Botox. It makes him look inhuman, fitting. 

"Which one, which one," his fingers dance between the two cards inside the bowl, going back and forth like it was a guessing game and not someone's life on the line. He goes on like that longer than needed before deciding, "Aha! This one." 

He steps back to the mic, tearing the tape off the back of the paper before announcing, "Seeder Howell!"

She is quiet, face twisted in an attempt to keep back tears. Her grip is crushing as if she's scared they will drag her away. And you move without putting much thought into the decision. 

You raise your free hand and say, "I volunteer." You don't yell it, you don't need to. 

Your mother lets out a shrill, throat-shredding scream, her voice only elevated by the silence surrounding it. This will be the last thing you hear from her.

Seeder holds on to your hand as you step forward, grip tight. There are tears in her eyes, lips trembling around words she doesn't have the strength to say. 

"I know," And you do. As a mother, she's grateful, but as your mentor—well, "Let me do this for you." You say, but it isn't a request. You're going back into the arena whether she gives you her blessing or not. You can admit your reasons for volunteering aren't entirely selfless. You're going up against seasoned fighters, all prepared to do what it takes to survive. 

But—you don't have to win. No one expects you to win and that...that thought is relieving. You aren't planning on rolling over in the arena and letting someone get a free kill, but this is something Snow won't be able to work around. No matter how hard he tries, he can't manipulate the outcome of the games. And he'll have no one to blame but himself, no one to punish. It's cowardice, in a way, but you're tired. And you think you've been tired for a long time now. You'd be stupid not to take this ticket out. 

Most eyes pity you. You're essentially volunteering yourself to put your head under the executioner's sword. However, some eyes envy you. You're leaving Eleven. For good. For many of the citizens, death is a small price to pay for freedom. But there’s something else, something everyone in the crowd shares. There’s anger, a righteous fury in every face you see. 

Is this the view your dad had? Are these the faces he saw before he was lynched?

You spot your mom a few rows back, someone holding her up. She's inconsolable. You take a moment to look at her for the last time. After you die, they'll make her move out of your house, but you know without asking that Seeder will take care of her. 

"This is certainly a surprise! Very exciting," Argon grabs the stump of Chaff's right arm and the wrist of your left, lifting them into the air, "We have our tributes!" 

No one claps. You don't expect them to. 

Things move pretty quickly after that. You're given no time to say goodbye. No time to try and run. 

Peacekeepers approach and the hands that grab you are rough with their treatment, dragging you and Chaff in the direction of the train. 

There'll be many victors facing the guillotine, many of your friends forced into a death march.

You look to the sky, a quick glance before you're ushered to the train. It's a sunny day with plump white clouds on a baby blue backdrop. It might be the last time you see the real sky as a free woman. Calm and beautiful despite the carnage happening under it. 

You close your eyes for a moment and think. For the first time in almost two years, you'll see Finnick.

[total-drama-brainrot]

This Alenoaheather AU is bringing me an unholy amount of serotonin and I love it- I’m still just now discovering it and I wish I knew about it sooner😭😭 But question if I may!

So, by the time Noah gets eliminated, where would you say his relationship lies with Alejandro and Heather? Like, does he leave the competition like, “You both tried to play each other, but I ended up playing the both of you, L” Like does he just think that Alejandro and Heather only romantically like each other, and he was just their attempt at emotionally manipulating one another, or does he at least have an idea that they potentially may feel romantically towards him? Honestly I’m just curious about how his elimination would play out between the three of them-

I'm glad other people are enjoying this AU as much as I am. Me and Perp are slowly spreading our Alenoaheather propaganda and it's working.

It's been established that Noah's elimination in this AU will take place at some point in the early post-merge game, probably either China or the Serengeti (though Niagara Falls might work too. We haven't exactly touched on how each challenge can/will play out since this whole concept has been put on the backburner), which gives his dynamic with Heather and Alejandro time to blossom from the initial double fake dating ploy into something more genuine.

Well before his elimination, Noah's been caught in his double-crossing ways; or to be more accurate triple-crossing, since Noah initially decided to play along with both Heather and Alejandro's schemes with the intention of throwing them both under the bus (or at least reaping all of the benefits for himself). But, by the time his ploy is figured out, the three of them have developed genuine feelings for each other.

As such, Heather and Alejandro are hesitant to have him eliminated; sure Noah somehow managing to pull the wool over their eyes for as long as he did was infuriating, but it was also impressive. Like recognises like, and the two biggest schemers in the game can appreciate when they've been outplayed, aggravating as it is, especially when the person who bested them essentially used their own trickery against them. Also, though the two of them would never admit it, both Heather and Alejandro know that they'd honestly miss Noah's caustic company.

Of course, at this point in the competition Heather and Alejandro are still deep in their "rivalry" phase, so it takes the two of them a very convoluted and overcomplicated conversation to figure out that they both share the same sentiment concerning a certain cynic- since every encounter they have with each other is practically a game of backhanded compliments and dancing around the true meaning of their words. It takes even longer for them to come to an agreement, given how stubborn the both of them can be, but eventually they manage to co-operate.

Which is what leads to The Confrontation, the point in the story where the two fake dating plots merge into Heather and Alejandro putting aside their differences to rule the game together, utilizing Noah as their shared right hand man since he's shown a knack for strategy and subterfuge. After all, why would they want to get rid of the one person on the jet who's able to go toe-to-toe with them in terms of scheming, when they can instead keep him around as an accomplice?

At least, that's the excuse they both use. But the two of them internally can't deny that, even if it was all pretend, Noah wasn't a bad "boyfriend" by any means, and they genuinely enjoy his company. In turn, Noah's accepted that neither Heather nor Alejandro are as insufferable as he initially assumed, and that playing along with their grand plots is actually really fun. (And maybe he also likes the two of them, but Noah would never admit that.)

But there's a a whole cast's worth of people on the jet who the trio also have to consider in their plans; it would be super suspicious of all three of them if the flirting and Aleheather's animosity suddenly ceased. No matter how oblivious the rest of the competitors are, a sudden public change in their dynamic would be the equivalent of waving a huge red flag and screaming "hey, we're in an alliance, vote us out!" Very counterintuitive to their goal of winning the competition.

So the three of them resolve to act as they have been during challenges, and sneak off to the confessional when it's most convenient/feasible to do so, where they can plot and scheme away from the rest of the cast.

This means that, at least to everyone else in the game, Noah's still in this weird grey area where he's actively flirting with both Heather and Alejandro. Or, well, "flirting", since I imagine most of the advances would be initiated by the other party and Noah would play the part of the blushing damsel- or more accurately the begrudging but highly amused recipient, since I just can't conceptualise snarky, stoic Noah being the type to get flustered easily.

I imagine The Confrontation would happen somewhere around London timeline wise (it just feels like the most appropriate place to have a major shift in the plot happen, for obvious reasons), which would give the initial fake dating aspect of the AU time to run it's course without getting stale, and allow the three of them to establish their dynamic as a trio before the merge hits. It'd give Alenoaheather around five or six episodes worth of time to grow closer as a trio (from Greece's Pieces to Niagara Brawls, at least) and have their feelings grow and develop at a natural pace, to the point where they acknowledge that, perhaps, not all of the romantic tension between them is fake.

And then, of course, the Fake Cheating Arc happens. Noah's elimination is the catalyst for this section of the plot, which Perp and myself touched on pretty heavily in one of our reblog chains, and at this point in the story Alenoaheather are in a sort of vague kind-of-dating situation; the three of them know there's feelings there, but they're all more invested in the competition (and their manipulation of such) than trying to figure out what exactly is going on between them. Plus, World Tour takes place in 2010- concepts like polyamory weren't exactly common knowledge back then, so the three of them wouldn't have any basis of comparison for what their dynamic is/would be.

That, and the three of them are all fairly emotionally closed off, so getting them to admit genuine feelings for each other and show vulnerableness to anyone would be like pulling teeth. As it stands, they're fairly content to continue acting as a Trickster Trio, contented to leave whatever's going on between them unlabelled for the time being in favour of focusing their time and energy on winning the million. There's an unspoken understanding between the three of them; what they have is special, inconceptual and indescribable by mere words... which is mostly just an excuse for the three of them not to breach the subject, since they have the collective emotional intelligence of a spork.

That doesn't mean they don't love each other. Because they do, even if some of them (Heather and Alejandro) aren't exactly familiar with concepts like "unconditional love" and "loyalty/compassion for someone besides yourself" and "lowering your emotional walls and being the most genuine version of yourself in front of the people who care about you". It's a steep learning curve, but they're doing their best.

But that's besides the point; at this point in the plot, the trio are essentially a throuple in all but name at the point of Noah's elimination.

That's why his suggestion of playing off of his "cheating" is initially met with hesitance on Aleheather's part- they don't want the one person on the jet (besides each other) they actually care about to risk his reputation, but they also know that it's a strategically sound idea. There's a conflict of interest between their desire to win the competition by any means necessary, and the budding sense of empathy they've both began to develop as a result of their situationship.

Of course, they eventually agree to his plan, and then the whole Cheating Arc plays out as it's been explored previously.

Which means Noah's actual elimination ceremony is a very tense affair.

He's intentionally playing himself up as kind of a scumbag during it, since he wants both Heather and Alejandro to appear as sympathetic as possible to the remaining competitors, so the three of them stage an altercation during that day's challenge where Noah's caught out in his "cheating", and consequently "admits" that he's been playing the two of them and it's all ingenuine on his part, to direct the majority vote against him. It'd kill two birds with one stone that way; Noah gets himself eliminated without having to do much out of the ordinary, since he's already kind of an asshole so all he really has to do is play up that aspect of himself a little and lie about manipulating his partners, meanwhile Heather and Alejandro can reap the benefits of whatever brownie points they gain from being his "victims" by using their own manipulative prowess to adopt the role of the ex-villains, redeemed by their shared heartbreak. Or something equally melodramatic.

Noah doesn't really care about the specifics of it, he'll be long gone before his partners can start playing up their "betrayal and heartbreak", and then soon enough one of them will win the competition. And spoil him rotten with their money.

So, during the actual ceremony, Noah becomes persona non grata. No one wants to sit anywhere near him on the benches, and the remaining cast members form a protective wall between him and a distraught Heather, who sniffles back quiet tears every time her eyes wander too close to the cynic's slouching, impassive frame, and Alejandro who's sat eerily still and taut with disgraced fury, who's fiery green eyes haven't strayed from the burning glare he's shooting towards the bookworm.

Not that Noah's a stranger to receiving glares; the rest of the cast are also shooting him some downright murderous looks. Though he is impressed by his partners' acting abilities. He's also physically biting back pearls of laughter- the gritting of his teeth only serves to make him look unapologetically indignant, and thus more irredeemable in the eyes of their company- because every time Alejandro knows that no one's focus is on him, he sends his cerebral partner a cheeky wink and a smirk. The smug bastard.

Unsurprisingly, the vote is fairly unanimous. Chris doesn't even bother trying to raise suspense or tension by counting the votes, since the result is inevitable. That, and the atmosphere is already so tense and dramatic, the host is revelling in it. Chris even goes so far as complimenting Noah for outshining Duncan's cheating fiasco, showing the audience "what real relationship drama looks like", and maybe even congratulating Noah on almost being as heartless as he is.

He's escorted to the Drop of Shame, parachute backpack in tow, but before he can take the plunge he glances back at his audience. A raging sea of hostility greets him, but within the depths of animosity two shining beacons of light greet him. Alejandro and Heather shoot him a fleeting wave, the ghosts of smiles flickering across their features before they continue their flawless acts, but it's enough to reassure Noah that everything will be fine.

(Spoiler alert, things don't end up being fine for Noah.)

Of course this is all just an idea I'm spewing out. Nothing in this AU is set in concrete and it's always open to peer review or change. That's the beauty of public AUs; you can do whatever you want with them!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Good Cop

in which Jericho cracks a wall

cw: aftermath of violence, adult language

previous // masterlist // next

×~×~×

When Harbor's hour was almost up, Jericho made his way back to the briefing room, a hopeful plan at the ready and a nervous feeling in his gut, every step closer to the door jiggling at his nerves like jello.

The word interrogation didn't exactly fill his head with pleasant images. In movies, it was usually portrayed as torture, ineffective on the protagonist but shockingly useful against any minions the heroes snatched for intel. In real life, he'd experienced something like it once or twice. Corporate cronies trying to grill a confession out of him; entrapping questions intended to get him to admit to anything they could twist into something worthy of an arrest. Those were some of the scariest moments of his life, and even though he'd insisted on his own ignorance, in the end he was only saved by a lack of evidence of his hacking activities (hacktivities?).

Jericho's own encounters had been pretty mild, but he still wasn't eager to put anyone else through it. 

Then again, this was just a challenge, wasn't it? Succeeding didn't mean they'd suddenly be required to hurt Finley, it only meant Sahota wouldn't kill her. If they managed to win, maybe they could pursue Joy's original idea and just talk to the woman. Whether she was a hardened criminal or not, surely she'd be willing to help if she knew the safety of the city was on the line.

…But that was all a big if. Unless Harbor had managed to pull a trick out of his hat, no one had been successful so far, which left Jericho. Jericho going toe-to-toe against Sahota's boundless willpower. No big deal, just a stranger's life hanging in the balance.

If he failed, could they still back out?

There were other avenues. Both Sahota and Vic had been clear on that, but the group's own insistence had gotten them to this point. If they completely gave up on Finley as a lead now, they'd have just wasted a day, and he doubted Vic would be very happy about that, but between wasting a day and throwing away an entire person, Jericho knew what he'd choose. 

From the moment the challenge was announced, he knew what method he'd be using. Bad-cop good-cop, sans the bad-cop. In his experience, difficult people could be swayed to a cause if the reason behind it was just explained, if he pled to their humanity and compassion. And sure, some people were so far up their own bias that they'd refuse to listen, but it was worth a try.

Hell, it was how he got Ari to take a chance on asparagus. 

He was prepared to act on the same technique he'd use if they actually won, if they got a chance with Finley: Just talk. A conversation might be all they needed. The Reality Cage was potentially destructive. If Finley knew that, knew what was at stake, wouldn't she help them? It wasn't even as if she'd be responsible for destroying it. She'd just have to tell them how. Some part of her had to exist that would want them to succeed, to save people.

Jericho was inclined to believe that the same could be said about Sahota. He'd given them this chance in the first place, hadn't he? Why let them try at all, unless he wasn't too keen on killing Finley either? If that was true, if this was more than just a lesson in their own inadequacy, Jericho had hope that this whole mission wouldn't wind up as violent as he feared.

Footsteps drew his attention back to the corridor ahead, and he looked up to see Harbor, head drooping, wild multicolored hair obscuring his face. His walk was usually something between a sway and a stumble, but it looked more erratic now, with him nearly bumping into the walls as he went.

“Hey,” Jericho started, but his voice caught when his gaze landed on Harbor's hands. His knuckles were red, skin splitting in some places, blood drying in the lines of his fingers. Totally cut up, and not from the morning’s sparring matches, so that meant… Jericho’s stomach twisted.

Sahota.

Harbor didn't look up, passing right by him as if he wasn't even aware he was there.

“Harbor—”

“Fuck off,” he said in a voice that sounded bitten off, and disappeared around the corner. Jericho had to stop himself from chasing after the other man, from asking what happened.

It was pretty clear what had happened, but why? Harbor was rough around the edges, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who enjoyed hurting someone else, especially not a someone else who was already injured. A part of him hoped that he was jumping to conclusions, that Harbor had just… punched the wall or something to try and intimidate their trainer. But before he made it to the end of the hall, before he could even open the door, he knew what he would see.

An anxious sort of nausea built in Jericho’s stomach as he took in the scene, deliberately avoiding the focus of it as long as he could. The briefing room had been cleared, the big table pushed to one side to make space for the day's challenge. 

In the center, tied to a chair, sat Sahota. Blood and spit hung from his face in sticky strands, and his head sat heavy atop his shoulders, like he was struggling to keep it up. His cheek was split, the cut on his lip reopened and dribbling blood, and the eye that had been bruised was now nearly swollen shut.

Jericho’s heart beat faster. 

“Is your plan just to stand there?” Sahota mumbled. “Or do you have a better idea?”

And he was just acting like it hadn’t happened. Jericho had already gathered that Sahota didn't like to show any weakness, but this was bigger than pride. Their trainer had been hurt, while he was tied down, by someone who was supposed to be on their team.

“Are you okay?” He clearly wasn't.

“Fine.”

“Did Harbor do this?” Why was he asking such stupid, obvious questions? Why couldn't he make himself step forward to untie the other man? Because of how little he wanted to believe it was true? Because of how surreal it was?

“I… I told him to,” Sahota replied.

What? Hadn’t he warned them all not to do anything he couldn’t sleep off? No matter how tough Sahota was, this didn’t look like it fell into that category.

“Let me cut you loose,” Jericho said, finally breaking a leg free of the uncertainty that held it captive, taking a step closer.

“No,” Sahota said, and he froze in his tracks. “Do what you came to do or get out. I don’t need your help.”

Jericho grimaced. “Should we really continue? You should get cleaned up, maybe—”

“I said I'm fine.”

Same song, different verse. He'd said he was fine yesterday, even after they'd all seen the video that so clearly told them he wasn't. 

“Sahota…”

“Davis,” he answered in a clipped tone. “If you can't ignore the blood, leave.” He took a shaky breath, coughed, sent little flecks of red flying. “Tell me what information you're after and pursue it, or get out.”

Jericho exhaled through clenched teeth. It was pretty clear that no matter what he said, their trainer was determined to suffer through this. Was there any point in continuing? He could just leave. Walk away, abandon Sahota to his own wounds and pride, but it didn't feel right. What would happen? How long would it take Sahota to get free on his own? Better to finish the exercise and hope his trainer allowed help after it was completed.

“Okay,” he said, letting out a resigned sigh. “I want to know your first name. That’s what I’m after.”

“Then get on with it.”

Jericho took a deep breath. Ignore the blood. How was he supposed to do that?

“Hey,” he began, forcing a smile. “My… uh, my name's Jericho. I have a few questions for you, and…” he couldn't stay on track with this. He couldn't just pretend Sahota wasn't actively in pain in front of him.

“And I'd like to apologize for any rough treatment you received before I got here. It… that wasn't my intention,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”

Sahota scoffed. It sounded closer to a wheeze. “Do you think Finley will buy that?”

“I don't… Maybe.” Jericho sighed. “Let me start again. Hey,” he said. “You… uh, you have some information that I need. Pretty badly." Everything he said just sounded dumb. "I want to know your name. Sounds weird, I know, but this… you could help me stop a lot of people from getting hurt.”

“What if she doesn't care?” Sahota said.

“There's hundreds of thousands of people in this city,” Jericho continued, trying not to let the other man's words deter him. “Right now, all of them are at risk. If you’ll just work with me here, we can keep them safe.”

Sahota didn't answer. And really, he had a point. Even if Finley did care about the well-being of the city, she’d have no reason to believe anything they said. How could they convince her?

“My family doesn't live here,” Jericho tried. He was truly thankful that they didn't. Having to worry about their safety, their potential destruction at the hands of an uncaring company would be terrible.

“My mom, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins… they're not the ones in danger," he continued. "But people like them are. I’d never be able to sleep again if something just… destroyed people's lives. Something I could've prevented.” He clasped his hands together, hoped the motion looked sincere. “That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be your enemy. I just want to help people.”

Jericho sighed when that didn't get a response. He shouldn't be too disheartened. Sahota probably just didn't have much energy for conversation. Not after Harbor… did that. He glanced down at his own knuckles, still sore from fighting the taserbots just a few days ago. He'd saved Harbor. He’d thought they were finally starting to meld together and work as a team, but teammates didn't do this to each other. Even if Sahota had ordered it, why would he take it that far?

“I'm sorry about what happened,” he said. “I know someone on my team hurt you.” He swallowed. “Whoever… whoever touched you was in the wrong. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and… I'm sorry.” He was. He really was. He'd need to find Harbor after this. They could talk it out.

“I won't let it happen again,” Jericho said. “If someone tries to touch you, just let me know, okay? I'll stop them. I know I'm basically a stranger, but I promise I want to help you. I promise you're not alone. I—”

He stopped at an odd noise. A catch in Sahota's breath, a sound that was oddly familiar but out of place. It took a second for Jericho to realize that Ari made a sound just like it sometimes. When she was trying not to cry.

“Sahota?”

No answer, just another shaky inhale. Shoot, he knew he shouldn't have proceeded, not when he was all beat up like this. Even with Finley on the line… Vic be damned, he'd fight for it to be nothing more than a wasted day. He was fine abandoning the lead, he was fine admitting defeat here.

He wasn't fine leaving Sahota like this.

Jericho exhaled sharply through his nose, crossing the room in two strides to reach the chair their trainer was strapped to and setting to work on the knots. Surprisingly, Sahota didn't tell him off this time, just sat with his head bent and his shoulders shaking.

Why was he crying? Of course, Jericho couldn't blame him. He was probably overwhelmed with everything that was going on, and this was just the straw that had broken the camel's back. But what was ‘this’? What had been his breaking point? Had something he said triggered it?

He fumbled with the ropes, eventually managing to find a weak point in each knot and pull them loose, letting the bindings coil to the floor.

Now with his arms free, Sahota buried his face in his hands.

“Fuck,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Jericho said, taking a step back. The other man refused to look up. He could understand if he was embarrassed. Holding up an emotionless, unshakable facade all the time must be exhausting, but it would also be jarring to ever let it drop. He got it.

“The exercise is over,” Sahota said, still not raising his head.

“Alright.” Jericho couldn't let himself be mad about it. He'd given it a try, but if their trainer was just too overwhelmed right now, and no way was Jericho going to push him further. They could worry about Finley later. “Seriously though, are you okay?” he said. “There's no shame in not being fine. I know you're under a lot of stress.”

It took a moment for the other man to respond. “Go wait by the mats. I need to reset this room.”

I need some time alone.

“Okay,” Jericho said softly, backing towards the door. “Do you… want a hand getting patched up?”

“I'll handle it.”

Alright. He wouldn't push him. “Okay,” he said again. “I… guess I'll give you some space.” 

It felt like it was all for nothing. Their idea for a peaceful approach had already resulted in violence, and for what? They’d all failed. They were no closer to their goal than they'd been yesterday. 

He had one foot out the door when Sahota called after him.

“Davis.” It wasn't loud. It sounded uncertain, like he might ‘nevermind’ him and send him on his way. Jericho turned around, determined to be patient, to show he was at least willing to listen, even if their trainer said nothing else. But instead of sitting silent, instead of ordering him off, Sahota spoke. His head stayed bowed, hands tangled tightly around each other, eyes on the floor.

“It's Ander,” he said. “My name is Ander.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight

[heartfullofleeches]

Do it!! We love your ideas chief, that’s why we’re here!

Also ghoul reader is hot as fuck

[Light body horror. Angst]

Well- two important factors about ghoul reader are both their body and mind deteriorate over time, but can be rebuilt to full structure by eating human meat/brain healthy meals.

This led me to think of a "healer" ghoul reader who can sorta transfer/reconstruct the healthy cells to others and heal people that way. Lose a kidney? Ghoul Reader can create a new one and negate most side effects by eating some ground beef left in the freezer. A personal sacrifice of their flesh for another being.

Given the nature of their healing properties, Ghoul Reader is extremely caring and always puts others before themself. They make friends with the wrong person- someone who hardly cares about their well-being and uses Reader for their personal gain. They had been scarred horribly by mistakes they'd already made and without them even asking Reader starts to slowly heal them. Their body needs more work than reader's can take, but they just write the ghoul off as lazy and trying to keep them around. Reader's body mass continues to shrink no matter how much they eat. It hurts them to put so much strain on their body... it hurts so much... but they still try. They still keep that "friend" in their heart and notebooks so they'll never forget them when their memory blanks. They care about their friend. They love them. They want them to be okay and love themself for who they are-

But they never knew how truly rotten that person was - inside and out.

"Finally... All those horrid scars were a damper on my social life. I'm even more beautiful than I was then. That being said, I can't be seen around something like you. It was fun."

That isn't what friends are supposed to say.. After all they did for them... Gone without even saying goodbye. That was the ghouls first time being betrayed to such caliber- and it crushed them. They wouldn't feel this pain if they were just another mindless creature, but they were proud of the person they'd become. The "normal" human being who walked around same as everyone else. They were just like them... only rotting... maybe that person wasn't so wrong to leave them behind...

Ghoul Reader shuts off from the outside world after that. They stick to their routine as it's all they've ever known, but they've lost that rosy view of the world. Is it worth making friends anymore? What's the point of trying if they'll just be abandoned again? They were more human than the people around them. Unlike them - they felt pain. They wanted to forget it all - so they did. Most of it at least.

While out one night reader notices a musky scent in the air. So faint only their nose would catch it. They follow the trail to a body lying behind some dumpsters - stab wounds having torn deep holes through their vital organs. Their pulse was weak - fading. Despite all the pain they've been dealt, Ghoul couldn't let someone die for another's mistake. They fixed up the near corpse and waited for them to wake up so they couldn't get home safety.

"Ugh....I'm still alive....lame...who the fuck are you?.."

Ghoul Reader explains everything that lead up to the encounter and their healing capabilities.

"Eh....with how my nights gone - I'll believe anything at this point. Thanks for the help, bud."

It was nothing. Ghoul Reader gets up to leave.

"Aye! Where ya going? You save people's lives on the regular and expect nothing back? Lemme treat you to dinner. Know a good spot close by and I still have the wallet I was gutted over. Let's get going already!"

Reader learns more about their new acquaintance. A petty thief trying to get on the right track in life. They spun some wild story about seeing a guy dropping his wallet and them trying to return it with the guy flying off the rails and accusing them of stealing it. The details were spotty, but Reader nodded along to every word. They needed a place to stay for the night as their home was too far to trek back too at that hour. They give Reader the rest of the cash in the wallet in exchange for their couch and they become the first real friend Reader makes.

Everything Reader gave they always tried to give back double. The near death experience gave them a new outlook on life. It was something to be cherished and not thrown away so easily as they had in the past. They wanted to share that new view with their only friend. Reader was a better companion than people they'd know their entire life. A little bitey when they got hungry, but everyone gets a little cranky when they're starving.

The friend gets a call over. Reader had skipped breakfast and wasn't sticking to their usual diet. They sat alone, unable to move and succumbing to the painful cramps of hunger. They begged their friend to bring them meat from the store, but their friend wanted to end their suffering as quickly as they could. They pulled out their trusty switchblade, embedding its teeth in their pinky finger. Ghoul Reader tries to stop them.

"Y/n, you saved my life. It's as much yours as it is mine. I'd give anything to properly replay you, but I'll never be able to and I don't mind living with that debt on my shoulders if it means we're together. This is the least I can do for you- so shut up and eat my damn finger."

-

A week after Reader tries them their finger back there's a knock on the door. Their friend refused treatment seeing it as a marker of their loyality to reader. They make sure reader is well fed at all times. A face reader has seen before stands behind the door. Some model they've seen on billboards and flyers. What could someone like that with them?

"Y/n. I know you probably don't want to see me after what I've done, but I need your help. I got into an accident after a few drinks last week. Nothing serious before you ask, but I've got these bruises and I have an important party to attend this Saturday. I'll allow you to be my plus one if that fixes things."

....

"I'll be out with a friend Saturday, but thank you. I can still fix you, but if you don't mind me asking - how do you know my name?"

Reader leads them to their couch and heals their spotty face all while the stranger is left bewildered. They're acting like nothing happened. Why are they acting like nothing happened? Who was this new friend and who the hell was that standing by their bedroom door?

"Are you seriously going to play this game?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pretending like you don't know who I am. That's harsh even with everything that's happened."

Ghoul Reader backs away from them.

"I've seen you in pictures, but that's it. I don't know who you are."

"It was cute at first, but I'm not playing whatever game you're trying to start. You know who I am."

Ghoul Reader racks their brain for answers, but there's no result. They begin to hyperventilate. "I don't....I don't know who you are....Stop it, please!"

"Not til you say my name. I'll own up to my part when do that simple thing."

They grip at their face, talons catching on their softened skin. "I don't know who you are...Don't make me remember..... Get out.... GET OUT!"

As the stranger leaves and heads towards their car a notebook flies out reader's window - aiming for their skull had they not stepped out of the way in time. Inside are pages of filled with scratched out ink held on a weakened spine. It was a miracle they held together. The pages stick togethered, water damgaged by crusted specks of blood and smaller dots of a clearer fluid. The words written were near illegible, but there's a few key points they could make out. A birthday, the begining and ending characters to a person's name, a repeated phrase pieced together over the various pages. Don't forget. Never forget.

They'd been erased completely from reader's conscious mind. This notebook had been kept to prevent that very thing from happening. All those precious memories thrown away. The stranger was happy with the life they'd been robbed of - but no one had ever been their for them like Reader had. A new stain falls to the page.

Flipping to the final page, a note slides off the back cover.

"Come here again - and I'll erase you permanently."

It wasn't reader's hand writing. The person in the window holds up a new journal - comforting a sobbing ghoul on their shoulder.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim #53: Healing Right

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, (past) vampire whumper, broken bones, past loss of bodily autonomy, offscreen surgery, emotional whump

Whumpmas in July Day 18: Ache

back to this guy :)

-

Jim rubbed at the bump on his arm where the bone didn't heal quite right, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bone on his forearm went at an angle, up and up, before suddenly dropping off where it met misaligned with the rest of it going to his elbow. Bones, they'd told him there were two, but it was easier to just think of it as one.

It hurt, but it wasn't a bad hurt. Jim knew bad hurt. It was a dull ache he'd gotten used to over the past two years. It didn't hurt like the snap when Kane cracked Jim's arm open with his bare hands anymore, and he had pain meds now anyway. He'd tried to get on some stronger ones, but Liz had told him it wasn't a good idea, that he'd get hooked. Jim wasn't very good at disagreeing with people anymore, so he just took her word for it.

But he'd get some now for sure. Even Liz said it was okay this time. Because he had to get his arm re-broken.

Every day as the operation got closer, the dread grew more and more. He knew it wouldn't be like the first time. He'd be conked out, and he'd be allowed pain meds, real pain meds. It wasn't a punishment, and if all went well, his arm would be fixed. No reminder of Kane every time he looked at it. Probably no dull ache. It was even his own choice.

They couldn't fix the scar on his neck, neither the mark or the pain, so this was the best he could do to scrub off any lasting reminders Kane had left on his body. Liz's friend Laken had suggested a tattoo to cover it, but the idea of a needle going into his neck was so horrifying that the thought made him want to throw up.

But he could do this, at least. Even if breaking his arm again would be scary, he needed to claw his body back for himself. He needed to know it was his again, not Kane's. No matter how much it would hurt.

“I don’t belong to anyone. My body is mine. I’m out," Jim whispered to his reflection. Afraid to say it any louder, like Kane would be able to hear and swiftly correct him.

He got dressed, hiding his neck and arm under a turtleneck. He'd started dressing in them every day, though he knew he would need to take it off for the surgery. One more thing to dread about it, but he told himself it was worth it.

"You ready?" Liz asked as he came downstairs.

Jim shrugged. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

-

The operation was a success. If there was anything at all to thank Kane for, it would be that he'd made a relatively clean break.

Jim's arm hurt like hell when he woke, but he knew it wasn't as bad as it would be without the meds. He had a cast this time, and a real sling, not one he had to make himself. His friends kept wanting to sign the cast, but something about it made him wildly uncomfortable in a way he couldn't explain.

He knew the old him would have jumped at the chance to have all his friends sign it. Probably would have given out points for who could draw the best doodle. He was practically a social butterfly when he was nineteen, before Kane got to him, but now it just seemed like he kept finding more and more disconnects with his old friends. They had jobs and babies and memories of the past five years together, and all he had were Kane and panic attacks.

Even though his friends kept reaching out and inviting him to stuff, he was too neurotic to act like his old self. It felt like putting on an act, it felt wrong. And being his real self was even worse: he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want them to know.

His cast remained unmarked.

-

He woke with a scream a week after his surgery, his arm exploding with pain, far worse than it'd been during his recovery.

Jim looked around wildly, but couldn't see the source of the pain in the dark of his room. He sobbed, clutching his arm protectively to his chest. He'd been so badly-behaved lately that he couldn't even pinpoint what it was he was being punished for.

He flinched back into the headboard with a whimper as the door flew open. "Please don't," he begged, trembling.

"It's okay, it's just me," Liz soothed. She sat down next to him. "Nightmare again?"

"No, I don't- I don't think so?" Jim struggled to catch himself back up to reality, but with the haze of sleep leaving his mind and Liz's presence grounding him, he came to the conclusion it wasn't a punishment at all. "I hit my arm in my sleep," he realized. "Sorry for waking you. Didn't mean to."

"You're all good," Liz assured him. "I wasn't even asleep. Getting myself back on schedule for when I go back to work."

Jim's stomach turned at the thought, even though it was no surprise. "What if something happens to you?"

"Someone's gotta protect people from 'em. Plus, I know we live in the cheapest place in the country, but I've gotta get back to work," she pointed out.

"There's other jobs. I'll get one again too, once I'm better. You could just... not go back." As much as Jim hated living by the border, the fact that it was so cheap to live here at least gave them some leeway. At least they didn't have to worry about rent, even though selling the house was nearly impossible if they ever wanted to move.

Liz patted him on the back. "Not for me, there isn't. It'll be okay. I won't be alone, and I've been doing this for years with no issues."

"What about that?" Jim pointed to the scars on her face, faded claw-marks running dangerously close to her throat.

"That barely even counts. You should've seen the other guy. Dead, for what it's worth. Most vampires won't even fight us, they just decide it's not worth the trouble and run back home. It's gonna be fine." She gave him a quick hug. "You gonna be okay to go back to bed?"

"Yeah. Just... be safe. I can't lose you again," Jim said quietly.

Liz gave him a sad smile. "I know how you feel. I'll be as safe as I can. Just go back to sleep."

True to his disobedient streak, Jim couldn't manage to fall back asleep, mind racing with fear. Liz getting taken by vampires, subjected to the same hell as him, or having her mind stolen from her entirely. Kane showing back up to steal him away in the night while Liz is off fighting other vampires, arriving home too late to help. Jim reached a shaking hand under his pillow and took his stake- a real one this time- and held it close as he sobbed, trying to be quiet and not disturb Liz again.

He could only hope his arm would heal better than he was.

-

i'll be putting out two one-shots next! one about a fairy whumpee on friday, and one about an alien whumpee on monday. after that, more Jim in Distress!

event: @whumpmasinjuly

taglist in reblog!

[shsl-analyzer-guy]

I'm feeling like being controversial today. Here, take some DR character opinions. Clutch your pearls besties

17- Makoto. I feel nothing for this character, in any positive or negative direction. To me, he's only ever been the vessel for which THH takes place for the player. That's kind of it. Bro is just chilling. (Note: these opinions are exclusive to the THH game.)

16- Leon. He suffers from what I like to call chapter 1 syndrome. Not only was he killed extremely early, but he had no plot or character significance before or after the fact in-game. I think the idea of a character that hates their talent is really interesting, and his design slaps, but he just didn't have any sticking power for me.

15- Yasuhiro. He's got funny moments here and there (the ghost bit in the ch 5 trial never fails to make me laugh) but he has no story. They don't do anything with him besides 'stupid occult man' jokes, and I can't help but feel like there was wasted potential to do something with his fortune-telling talent that was only ever used as another gag of his stupidity. Disappointing as a character, but at least he was around longer than Leon.

14- Byakuya. Asshole characters are always hit-or-miss for me, and Byakuya missed by a ton. I know he *technically* got showed up during the chapter 4 trial, but getting upstaged once and acting like nothing happened afterwards isn't enough of a character arc for me to find him surviving over so many others in the cast worth it. He's also just pretty weak as an antagonist in comparison to the others in the series(not to mention there was an objectively better option for antag in this very cast). He's the type of character I'd probably like way more in like, Ace Attorney, but here I just got so sick of hearing him speak.

13- Hifumi. I can appreciate the attempt to make a subversion of the 'perverted nerd' character, but they failed the second they actually made him a perverted nerd, even if they gave him that bare minimum ideal of rape being bad. Fanon interpretations of what could've been prop him up for me a good bit, too.

12- Mukuro. Similar to Makoto, she feels like a character that exists to serve a narrative purpose, and we never really meet her as herself in-game. Unlike Makoto, we actually got FTEs playable in the post-game that allude to a greater story with her and her doubt in despair that makes her retroactively more tragic and adds both to herself and her sister.

11- Toko. They just didn't do enough with her in THH to warrant me placing her any higher than this. I think the differences between her and Genocider are interesting, and I wish they'd been given more growth in the game instead of spending the entire game post-chapter 2 pining over and stalking Byakuya. Toko gets ranked lower because she wasn't as fun to have onscreen and I got sick of her insisting people disliked her for being ugly, even though she's pretty conventionally attractive beyond having glasses.

10- Junko. She was an incredible mastermind twist and had a ton of charisma and presence in the final trial, from her sprites to the VA's performance, but they just didn't use her enough to warrant putting her any higher than the characters above.

9- Mondo. I like the characters he's attached to more than I do Mondo himself. I like the 2-sided coin of toxic masculinity they write between him and Chihiro, and I love his relationship with Taka, but I just don't care much for him outside of what he provides for those characters. He's fine.

8- Genocider. Basically everything I said with Toko, but she's way more entertaining from her cheery and violent personality and is just more expressive and fun. I got excited whenever she came onscreen because I knew I was about to have a good time.

7- I don't think you could change Kyoko's role in the story much at all without drastically altering the game as a whole. Makoto may be the POV, but Kyoko is undoubtedly the main character of THH and not only is she the most capable member of the class, but her growth as she opens up to Y/N Makoto and puts her faith not only in the absolute truth, but also hope is beautiful to watch, especially as we get to learn the mystery of who she is and where she came from. In another world, she'd be my #1, but I've never actually shed tears for her so she ends up as low as 7th.

6- I'd say from an objective standpoint, Sakura is probably the most well-written character in THH. Her internal conflict as she's forced to play the role of spy paired with her rapidly growing relationship with Hina as she finally, finally finds someone that sees her as the woman she so desperately wants to be acknowledged as, growing past her greatest weakness- her fear- to stand up to Monokuma, and having to take the role of a fighter on for a class of people that hated her to be both victim and killer, freeing her classmates from having to become either- I think I've made my point. I still wish we'd gotten that 3rd-person fighter about Sakura.

5- When I went into THH, I fully expected Hina to be a dumb blonde character for the entire game, with no substance beyond her character design. Maybe that low expectation was what made her shoot so high up my list. She wasn't the smartest character, sure, and the game definitely focuses on her body an uncomfortable amount, but she still has an incredible arc in her relationship with Sakura. Her depiction of grief is so deeply emotional, and her sense of justice, which up until then had been alluded to but never put into her hands, became a weapon that almost took down the entire class with her tears. Not only does she lose her best friend, but she's then manipulated by Monokuma to make that pain so much worse by pinning the blame for her loss on everyone around her and herself. Her attempt of a murder-suicide of the entire class followed by the reading of Sakura's real will and her guilt and regret afterwards is one of the strongest moments of the series. I've always thought if Makoto didn't exist, Hina would've been a great choice for a protagonist for this game, since she starts with that same optimism and easygoing ability to make friends that Makoto does, but is a strong character in her dedication to her sports and fierce love of those closest to her.

4- As a trans man, Chihiro's story was a lot like looking in a mirror, especially when I was playing the game as someone who'd only just started opening the closet door. His insecurities due to his body and his attempts to forcibly feminize himself to receive acceptance and masquerade as something he wasn't was something I was intensely familiar with, and the tragedy of his finally gaining enough confidence to open up to a close friend and seek out help to try and become his true self, only to be betrayed by said friend and killed before he ever got the chance, was one of the best personal gut punches I've gotten from this series. Regardless of the transphobia and misogyny written into said storyline, he's a character I'll never not relate to. There's a ton to dive into with Chihiro's character writing, and he's one of those characters I can tear into like a raw steak and go not only into how he's treated by the show, but also by how many ways there are to write him better than the game actually did and all the different ways different corners of the fandom have treated him. (Also, to be clear, I'm not opposed to transfem Chihiros hcs, I'm using he/him bc that's what's canon.)

3- Taka. My beloved boy, underrated outside of his relationship with Mondo. I'll defend this man until the day I die, and will always believe he should've been a member of the surviving cast over Hiro. His constant uphill battle with trying to connect with and protect his classmates only to fail at every turn from his lack of understanding of social norms, going as far as to rationalize hobbies as a form of studying in his first FTE, and his pure joy in finally connecting with someone being decimated by the reality that that man went on to be a killer is so powerful. Watching him completely snap and go near comatose, only being pulled out of stasis by the news that an AI of Chihiro still exists and begging for forgiveness for not being able to prevent his death was shattering, and his fusion with his perception of Mondo pushing him over the edge only to be killed unceremoniously in the background of Celeste's plan was infuriating. This man struggled and clawed his way through the first half of the game for whatever scraps of screentime the creators would leave him, and then they tossed him out when they couldn't think of anything better to do. Justice for my man!!!

2- Celeste. Remember when I said there was a character more well-suited for the role of antagonist than Byakuya in this game? Well, this is she. Not only would she have worked as a narrative foil to the player, as Makoto and Celeste are both in the class for their luck-based talent, but she would've had a much more powerful and thematic rivalry with Kyoko, the girl who seeks out absolute truth, as the girl who wraps herself in a veil of lies. I already found her fascinating as she was, having a character that's unashamedly a bad person and follows her own ideals with no regard for the effects on the rest of the class beyond how easy it'd be to manipulate them, but her lack of regard for the class trials and refusal to cooperate could've been how she functioned as an antagonist, refusing to help the group when it didn't immediately serve her or intentionally leaving out details that put her in a bad position. Essentially, she'd function as an antagonist in a way inverse to how Kokichi functioned, which not only would've been phenomenal for THH, but for the parallel storytelling V3 later goes on to employ. That said, that's all hypothetical, but even without all of that, she's still an intriguing character that I can't stop thinking about.

1- Sayaka. I hated Sayaka when I first started playing, not because of anything she was doing, but because I didn't like how the game was seemingly gluing her to Makoto's hip. I didn't like having to slough my way through tutorial after tutorial going through her to talk to the entire rest of the class, and I didn't like being forced to burn my first FTE on her when there were other characters I wanted to learn about. I cheered when I found her body because it meant I wouldn't have to jump through hoops to speak to the other characters anymore. All that hatred dissipated as the first trial took place. Taking the cutesy sidekick girl and making her not only the first victim (something that was huge for the genre at the time) but also going on to reveal that she was actively betraying us and plotting to frame us for murder to save herself and her fellow idols was a genius move. Since then, Sayaka has become a stronger presence in my mind for this series, and her impact on the series as a whole can't be overstated. She put the first killing game into motion. She carried with her the first despair, and inspired the first hope from Makoto. Her desperation for a dream she had to fight tooth and nail for, that desire to hang onto her dream that'd kept her going for so long pushes forward everything. 11037 became a staple point for the series and the fandom, not just because of the poor western translation, but also because that was her point of regret, the guilt that stopped her from killing Leon successfully and ultimately saved everyone, her final moments being to save Makoto and the others. Every moment spent with her at the beginning is designed not just to make her seem like the desirable sidekick girl, but also to weave into your perception of her the darkness she carries on the inside, the dedication and determination to remain liked and retain her fame by any means necessary, feigning being agreeable yet still unwittingly developing genuine feelings for someone who's nothing but genuine. The money I'd pay for a prequel anime about Sayaka's rise to the title of SHSL Idol is unreasonably high.

[imthepunchlord]

Very interesting, thank you for answering! On a similar note, how does Arrdor see himself as a Miraculous-turned-Calamitous fairy? How does he view Weeve and Endurr individually and together as the two true Calamitous fairies as well as the seven remaining still-true Miraculous fairies individually and as a group?

So, forewarning, Arrdor I haven't thought as much about, so much of his dynamic with other fairies, both during his time being Pink and Gray, is currently not so defined.

So Arrdor... I want to say is in that stage of self-hatred he's stuck in, but is also in denial about it, and just mad. He doesn't even quite know what he's unhappy about, but what he does know is that he's alone, and he's compelled to last out.

Miraculous wise, he disliked Weeve and Endurr by default, atm I don't have anything specific on him vs them in his Miraculous days; though post Calamitous, he begrudgingly did try to join them, as the enemy of my enemy is my friend. It didn't go well.

So now he exists constantly watching his back as he has the black and white fairy desiring to take him out, and he has the rainbow fairies desiring to take him out.

He really just got himself into the worst situation he can be in.

Just entirely alone.

For the Miraculous fairies, in his pink days, I currently want to say he was closest with Tikki. Both tied to romantic love, they're the fairies that often find themselves together with romantic couples. And this did involve some of the most tragic romances known in history. They'd mourn together, and Tikki would always lift herself up and move on (but not forget), Arrdor though, it wasn't so easy.

When he grayed out... let's just say him and Tikki have the worst relationship currently.

Lucee, Clovrr, and Pollen I haven't really thought of their dynamic with Arrdor yet, between his days as Pink and Gray, so we'll just put a pin in that. At most, Pollen for sure I know feels betrayed and is upset about it.

Longg I actually have a thought of Arrdor approaching him before he turned Gray, revealing he's felt something... dark, colorless with him, and Longg himself sometimes has toed that line of going dark. Longg feel guilty about not having been able to help his friend. Though, Longg will still get furious when Arrdor does something destructive with humans, and like Tikki, will not hold back when facing Arrdor.

As a gray fairy, Arrdor holds a grudge against Taaraa. When he was pink, even as a comrade, Taaraa kept him at arm's length, treated him with neutral kindness, but not the same sort of fellowship she extended to the other rainbow fairies. And now that he's gray, he wonders if she knew. And if she knew, why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she do anything? It doesn't help that Taaraa treats him like he's not worth her time, which just infuriates him all the more.

With Nooroo, he and Arrdor were always amiable, and maybe it's due to them both having powers about being closely connected with others. When Arrdor went gray, Nooroo was more focused on what was hurting his friend to cause him to gray out instead of his betrayal. He may be the only fairy that holds faith that Arrdor could be colorful again, that he could heal. But at this time, Arrdor is not interested, and Nooroo's probably the fairy that's the most at risk around Arrdor given he's very empathetic and compassionate.

[differenteagletragedy]

RIP MC (Sorry Baxter)

So i got a request for Baxter finding out MC had died during the five years he was gone and I wrote this WHOLE ASS THING without realizing what that meant. So if I do two Baxter angst fics in a row with a dead MC, please don't call me out on it, I already know :(

"Did you have fun in Cali, Ass-ter?"

"I did, Richard, and that's very clever, as always."

Baxter let out a light sigh, not very excited to be reunited with his college roommates. He tried to focus on his task on unpacking his things as Richard and Matt, the two spoiled rich boys he shared a suite with in one of the school's more expensive dorms, high fived over the unbearably stupid nickname they'd given him during their freshman year.

He was a spoiled rich boy too, he recognized. But at least he was a little quieter about it.

He began the task of putting his finer clothes in his closet, carefully picking up the hanger his tux was on and putting it away first. He ran a hand fondly over the coat, remembering the last time he'd worn it. With you.

When his roommates decided to turn on the tv, looking for a game, he barely paid attention, instead lost in his thoughts. He'd been miserable, even more miserable than normal, since he'd left you. He kept telling himself that it was for the best, that it made sense, that you wouldn't miss him nearly as much as you'd thought you would -- probably not even at all. He was fun for a little while, he knew that much about himself, but carrying out a relationship, even just a friendship, over texts and phone calls across the country?

He wasn't worth that. He'd hated seeing you so upset with the way he left, but at least it was a sharp sort of pain over the dull ache that would had happened as you inevitably lost interest in him.

"Hey Baxter, isn't this where you were?"

"Hmm?" he asked, barely registering what Matt had asked. Both boys were looking at the television, so that's where he turned his attention.

There was your picture on the screen. You were smiling brightly, dressed in a swimsuit. He recognized both.

He stared at the photo, puzzled, trying to piece together what your photo would be doing on the news. It was like his brain got a little foggy trying to figure it out, but a few words did fight their way through.

"Rip current," was one he heard. Another was "drowned."

His heart started beating faster, so hard that it became all he could hear. The room started getting hot, much hotter than it had been, and breathing became difficult.

He vaguely registered his roommates approaching him, but instead of trying to fight through whatever he was feeling to respond to them, he promptly turned and left the suite.

Baxter wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew that the room had suddenly become much too small. Without thinking much about it, he made his way out of the building and started walking. He wasn't aware of any conscious thought he had, too overwhelmed by the pounding of his own heart, and suddenly he was by a small pond on campus, kneeling by the edge of the water and gasping for air.

It didn't make sense, he thought. That couldn't have been you. It must have been someone who looked like you. Why would you be on the news all the way in Virginia? And there was no possible way you could have drowned. Not in the ocean you knew like the back of your hand.

Still, as much as he tried to convince himself that he'd misunderstood what he'd heard, an aching pain began forming in his chest, and soon he was sobbing.

If anyone else had noticed him down by the pond, they didn't approach him. He sat like that for a while, trying to remember how to breathe and telling himself over and over that you were ok, before he remembered the phone stuck down in his pocket.

With a considerable amount of hesitation, he pulled it out, then opened his browser. After shaking out his hand a few times in an attempt to steady it, he did a search for your name.

He'd heard right the first time.

He read as much as he could stand -- you'd gone out to the beach by your house the night before to swim, but you hadn't come home. That morning, as people from the neighborhood searched, your body ...

That's where he stopped reading.

Baxter hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. He knew that. As he flew over the country after leaving you, he'd tried to minimalize the entire summer and what it had meant to him until he'd almost convinced himself that that's what he actually wanted.

But knowing now that it wasn't a possibility to see you again, that it would never happen ... that even if he magically became a person who could believe in himself and fight for what he really wanted, that he couldn't have you, was a pain he couldn't have ever prepared himself for.

Once his tears slowed, he pulled himself up, absentmindedly brushing off his legs. He looked in the water. It was dark and still, nothing like the ocean he'd seen with you over the summer. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from picturing you in there, struggling.

He slammed his eyes shut and put both hands in his hair, then balled them into fists, pulling. The pain became forefront in his mind, and he managed to take a breath. Then another.

You were going to be there, Baxter realized. In the water. In the sand, in the mountains, in bowling alleys and cupcakes and feather boas and coffee shops. In summer. There was no way of changing that.

He was just going to have to find a way to live with it.

[box-dwelling]

There's honestly a really weird thing I've noticed with the legend of ruby in how it's dividing new fans. One part is new who fans feeling more cheated by not seeing Susan fully while classic fans are more excited about getting any information about her. But that's not really what I want to focus on.

The thing that's getting me is the difference between classic and new who fans on the Sutekh reveal. Classic fans have of course been hyped as hell.

But I've seen a lot of sentiment of new who onlys that honestly I think is really valid even though I do watch classic who.

RTD would pull this trick a lot. A finale episode would end on a cliff hanger of an old villain returning. See the master at the end of Utopia or Davros' reaval in season 4. And these worked. In part because they were already hyped up. But truthfully I think this seasons done that too. We have seen who scary the masetro and toymaker are. Even the trickster if you go before second reboot. This is the one they're scared of. His is the being that made them. He is big and intimidating and powerful and that's kinda all we got for the master and Davros' on a first watch too. Some general background context about why they're signifact and why they pose a threat.

But the reason I think this is hitting different is that well, if you were 3-4 seasons in, there was kinda the acknowledgement then that you were going to be missing some context. You would be brought up to speed eventually but still that context is missing and you knew that. If you wanted it you'd have to invest the time in classic who and if you weren't willing to put up that investment you adjusted expectations accordingly. And I want to say that's a completely reasonable thing to do. But everyone was kind of on the same page there. I was rewatching the first season of confidential recently (btw I highly highly recommended it, it's is some genuinely excellent documentary film making) and they'd spend large portions of the episodes talking about the shows history to bring new fans up to speed.

The thing is now, we're 14 seasons and nearly 2 decades in, the show is ment to be a reboot ala season one (which did not expect prior knowledge at all btw) and now the big bad is just some Egyptian god most new who fans have never heard of? I get how that's a let down especially because a lot of fans HAVE invested a ton of time in. They have invested time in 20 years worth of television. But that's still been proven to not be enough. I get why you'd be pissed. It's kinda how I'd feel if a reveal was based on a big finish property. Like I want to get to big finish but TV content comes first. And I don't have unlimited time to give to a show even my favourite show.

But the thing is, I don't know how we solve this. There are interesting bits of the classic canon that haven't been explored yet. Pyramids of mars is an iconic and beloved serial and it hasn't been touched on. I don't want the show to abandon the back catalogue of interesting monsters and charcaters. But I don't know how you thread that needle when new who fans also deserve a return on their time investment. Like if they bring back the rani or Romana they'd deserve so much fan fair and classic fans would feel cheated if it wasn't given. But it's not going to mean shit to new who fans.

Idk, I feel like there's nothing I would do to make the Sutekh reveal hit harder for new who fans. They built him up. They made him scary. They had him be related to other monsters we knew some of whom were entirely new, but I completely get why even that wasn't enough.

[raelyn-dreams]

Any headcanons of your favorite enstars characters? 👀💫

I do indeed nonnie! Though tbh, these are kind of full-cast headcanons lol. Tysm for the ask 😊

Mika is still upset he wasn't included in the Sanrio collab, and angrily sewed plushies the entire day it was announced.

During practice for Artistic Partisan, Hiiro was under the impression that the prop spears were much heavier than they actually were, leading to him accidentally slamming one through the wall (and nearly impaling Shu).

We don't talk enough about how Knights are given swords for their performances. Like who thought this was a good idea. Even if they are dull and fake, do you know how terrifying it is to have Ritsu Sakuma come at you with a sword and a maniacal grin? Kaoru Hakaze does.

Kuro was basically acting as a mediator for the entirety of the Yuukyou Seishunka cover rehearsals (while Mika and Souma prayed their unit leaders wouldn't kill each other). Keito and Shu came to feel kinda bad about this as they were winding down, so they begrudgingly worked together to make him a gi, as a thank you and apology. Keito never wants to hear the words "proper quilter's knot" again, but it was worth it for the smile on Kuro's face.

Hiiro and Hinata both have...shaky histories with high places (Hiiro in !! main story after Rinne disowns him, and Hinata during Setsubun). Niki doesn't know the details, but he notices after a while, so they start having rooftop hang-outs on occasion to help them with it.

I really like the Hiiro-Hinata-Niki dorm as a whole actually (which...Hiiro and Hinata are two of my favs, and Niki's up there, so that's to be expected lol). I see a lot of potential with the three, and I think they'd really get each other.

Ibara visited Kaname once. It was a stupid and sentimental thing to do, really, and he had work that needed to be done, lives to prepare for...but he couldn't help but feel he owed it to him, the near-silent apology that passed his lips that day.

Also, veering into AU territory a bit, but I think if Kaname were to wake up and eventually get back into the industry (after lots of rehab + accommodations), he'd keep the HiMERU name, but drop the "cool" persona he tried to associate with it. Life is too short to care so much about the public's perception of him, and I feel he'd go in the opposite direction of Tatsumi, and become even more outspoken, which would make him a good Crazy:B candidate.

OreMERU (our HiMERU) and Kaname are going to need to talk. A lot. I think Kaname wouldn't quite forgive him and would be upset about the identity theft, but he also can't bring himself to hate him, as he can see why he did it and knows it's for him. There's a lot of guilt and misunderstanding on both sides (ntm Tatsumi, Jun, and everyone else's reactions), but I think they eventually get through it alright, and OreMERU would always be Kaname's "Onii-chan".

OreMERU is also gonna have an identity crisis, and tries to quit Crazy:B, but of course Rinne, Niki, and Kohaku aren't gonna let him just dip like that. There's a lot of panicking, some bad hairstyle decisions, but he comes out alright, and starts going by another stage name that's important to him in some way.

I'm sorry about the excessive Tojo headcanons nonnie, I fully read Obbligato for the first time last week (just knew the basics before) and it wrecked me asdfghjkl.

Anyways. Back to everyone else.

As Mika gets used to Shu's more lenient personality, he tries to see how much gore he can get away with in Valkyrie's art.

Shu tries so hard to respect Mika's artistic vision and encourage him, he really does. But he draws the line at real pigs brains on-stage, even if they are in jars ("But Oshi-san, it represents the breakin' o' the mind after they tried so hard ta conform ta the expectations they put on 'em and ended up slaughtered! It's perfect symbolism, ain't it?")

Adonis makes money on the side for Undead by acting as an interpreter for other units during lives and Q&As. It ends up so popular and profitable that ES actually ends up investing money in professional interpreters for all events, because the ES heads can be kind of good people for once I guess. As a treat.

Rei, Ritsu, Niki, Tatsumi, Eichi, and Kaname (if he rejoins the industry) start having a combined monthly interview to make up for ones they miss due to illness/disability. The college kids/anyone that's been sick or couldn't make their own interviews occasionally join in too (usually Chiaki, Mayoi, Nazuna, Shu, Leo, and Izumi). Rei feels personally attacked sometimes, but its overall fun and way less stressful than trying to make every interview for their own units.

Kuro/Shu/Mao/Izumi dorm have sewing nights. It started because Kuro and Shu already sew, and Izumi wanted to be able to make his own alterations as a model just in case. Mao ended up joining in as a way to de-stress from student council work, and they have a relatively pleasant time together.

Souma is canonically good at embroidery, so I like to think he ends up creating his own sword scabbards for different Akatsuki costumes using the skills he's picked up from it. They're very pretty, and he's very proud of them.

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 4 - A Lot’s Gonna Change

prev - chapter 1

The two didn't expect leaving for lunch without their phones to be too big of an issue, but the near hundreds of missed calls seemed to say otherwise.

It was a miracle Hosah's shitty flip phone hadn't imploded by this point, as Jeanne had been endlessly spamming both his and Teddy's mobiles. This was never good. Jeanne was not the type to be the one to call anyone, meaning something had to be extremely urgent.

The ringing of the phone as the two now waited for Jeanne to pick up was painful to say the least. Waiting for an answer to just what their superior needed them for killed, Hosah's stomach churning as he anxiously stayed put in the assistant's pocket, knowing they'd probably have to leave again as soon as they'd gotten details on just what was going on.

"Thank god, I thought I'd never get ahold of you. I need you both over here, as quick as you can. I'll text you the address." The voice on the other side of the call was hard to make out, but even through the static, the panic in Jeanne's voice could be heard loud and clear. This was extremely out of character for him.

Teddy opened his mouth to inquire further, but the other line had already been put down and hung up before he'd gotten the chance to.

Jeanne must've had a lot of money to pay for so much phone credit. The address texted to them was one neither of the two recognised. It didn't seem to be a specific location or house, just a street name and a few directions following. Now they'd just have to catch a cab in the middle of the busy city. It'd be a hell of a lot easier if Jeanne hadn't worded his texts as if it was some sort of treasure hunt, Teddy wasn't sure what 'far down to the left' would even mean depending on where abouts the taxi dropped them off.

Eh, surely the police tape would make it easier to spot.

Neither of them had any idea what would be waiting for them when they arrived, but they didn't want to take any wild guesses that'd get their hopes up. It must've been something massive, and given the tone of their superiors voice, it was most definitely something tragic. Without failing to check whether Hosah was ready or not, the assistant began the mad dash to the scene of the crime.

Unfortunately, Hosah was it's certainly not ready. He'd never been in a car accident before, but he could assume this is pretty much how one would get whiplash. As the running slowed and Teddy got out into the streets, it was deemed safe to hang back out of the pocket to get some fresh air, and to hopefully avoid having to sit in his own throw up.

Chasing down a cab was tough enough, but dealing with an overly nosey and annoying driver was the hardest part. After multiple failed attempts at waving a taxi toward the detectives, Teddy was not going to let the one person that had stopped for him go without the two of them in that bright yellow car.

Like his life depended on it, the assistant jumped into the backseat, not even waiting to collect his breath. "Sir.. I need to get to.. Uh-"

The driver cut him off right as he was about to get to the most important part of the journey.

"Hey, hey, slow it down sancho. Where we going?" The man turned around, hand outstretched for the rookie detective to shake it.

The fuck? Teddy stared, dumbfounded for a moment. Deciding getting offended wasn't worth his one hope at getting to the scene quickly, he begrudgingly returned the handshake and repeated the address.

"Ehh, that's no house, not even a building. Fuck you going there for, ah?" At this point, he'd actually started driving, thank god.

Hesitant to answer truthfully, the backseat passenger decided to give a brief synopsis of all he knew, which in reality was nothing but the address.

"Work emergency."

The cabbie kept turning his head back, despite the road safety violations he was sure to be racking up in the process. He looked to be about middle aged, white european, probably Spanish given the rude nickname he'd assigned to Teddy. His thick moustache similar to a 70's indie rock star, with a denim baseball cap barely covering his already balding head of hair. Essentially, a look that resembled that of your average truck driver.

"Psh, what job do you do? Field inspector? Count one less grasshopper than yesterday? Aye, back in my day, we all did real jobs. I worked since I was ten years old yeah? Now look, society and all that. That computer, just destroyed all we knew." The man's rant was nonsensical and incomprehensible at best.

Teddy was already exhausted, "I'm a detective. There's been a murder there. I only just got the call, everyone else is already there."

That seemed to do the trick, as the man muttered a quiet 'Thank you for your service' before actually focusing on the road.

This guy must be allergic to silence or something.

"... So, murders huh? How'd you sleep at night?"

"Well, I didn't do them. I know I'm bringing them justice, that helps me sleep soundly." Hosah was kind of taken aback as he stayed silent in the pocket, he'd never heard Teddy speak to bluntly before. In all honesty , he didn't think the rookie had it in him.

The man just laughed, so hard as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Ahhh I like you, I like you. Funny guy huh? You tell jokes? You're joke guy?" in all honesty, what he'd said really wasn't that funny at all, but as long as he got to his destination, Teddy couldn't really care less how his small talk went down.

Soon enough, the obnoxiously vibrant vehicle had long exited the blocks upon blocks of buildings, now cruising around the scarce outskirts of the city whilst Teddy kept his eyes peeled for any signs of his team. Thankfully, 'Best of Blur' CD blaring out from the radio seemed to keep taxi driver quiet for the time being.

Despite the next day being the first of September, it was unnecessarily hot out, so much so that Hosah desperately needed to poke his head out if he wanted to either keep his guts inside of him or stay conscious. He'd never been particularly good with warm weather, given it was snowing three quarters of the year back in his home town, and having a weak stomach on top of that was just a downright evil mix. If there truly was a God, it wanted nothing but to mess with Hosah just the littlest bit.

He'd never seen this part of the city, if you could even consider it that. Scarce buildings, lots of fields, something unheard of around these parts; and a particularly good part of town to hide a body or two. Even the goriest of scenes Jeanne didn't bat an eye at, which is what unsettled Hosah so much about earlier. This had to be mass devastation of some kind to shake his boss so badly.

The breeze blowing through the crack of the passenger window blew Hosah's hair back from his face, and he finally understood why dogs liked it so much. Although he was worried, the tiny man couldn't help but enjoy the sights out of the window and his short break from stuffy confinement within the pocket.

As a familiar hand crept upwards against his lower half, Hosah realised his freedom was short lived. Looking up at the giant, he pretending to just be fidgeting with his face- as Hosah did himself almost constantly, with a conveniently placed finger up toward his mouth as he made eye contact with the pocketed detective. Hosah's eyebrows furrowed, now he just wanted to yell out and bring the drivers attention to himself out of spite. He was sure Teddy was just looking out for his safety and whatnot, but it didnt piss him off any less.

Approaching a red light, Hosah took this as his opportunity to snoop out of the windows. Luckily for them, when he squinted into the distance, he could just make out a few out-of-place cars parked in a neat row by the side of the road. If this wasn't it, they were stranded and would have to survive off of dead grass for the rest of eternity. At this point, Hosah was elevated enough that his entire upper half poked out of the pocket, enough so that he must've caught the taxi driver's attention through the rear-view mirror.

"Hey- Hey!! You can't sneak another passenger in my car man, I don't care tiny or what, you pay the same fees." The guy got so worked up he didn't even realise the light turning green. Although Teddy was sure taxis were supposed to charge off of distance travelled and not passengers taken, he didn't want to get into a petty argument in front of his boss, whom he so desperately wanted to like him.

"Right, right, sorry, he's ah.. He's sick, passed out, didn't think to-"

"Whatever, I don't discriminate. I'll take anyone, as long as they're paying." Sure. Now Hosah really was feeling sick, being spoken about like he wasn't there right infront of his face was always an easy way to annoy him.

It was a good thing there was no one else around them taking this route, as they'd been sat at a green light for a minute at least before the taxi started going again. Approaching the aforementioned parked cars, familiar Honda Accord came into clear view, Jeanne's car!

"Think we've found your buddies," The driver slowed, passing by the taped area to get a good look at the scene of the crime. He turned and handed Teddy his business card "You call this number and you ask for Felix next time you need a ride, yeah? Twenty dollars, I give you discount 'cause I like you two."

Without arguing, Teddy took the card and gave him what he asked, insisting he should keep the change, mainly because he'd definitely be seeing Felix again in the near future if he couldn't find a car in the next twenty four hours. The two rushed to go and find Jeanne as Teddy uttered a few quick Thank you's on their way out.

It certainly looked like nothing from the outside. Just a whole bunch of police and detectives in an empty field. Hosah almost doubted the urgency of it all, until a familiar face appeared in-front of them.

"Fifteen bodies. Can you believe that? Fifteen? All in one plot, lined up shoulder to shoulder." Jeanne's voice shook as he described what all the officers were stood looking at.

The plot of land they'd all huddled around was way too small to fit even half of a regular sized body, they'd had to all been shifters.

Jeanne continued, seemingly unsure of what he was about to say, "The officers were just cruising around after someone had called talking about a suspicious guy walking around with a miniature shovel. Like, the flower planting kind, anyway, they caught him digging something up, and when they came out to ask him what was up, he ran." He could barely string along what he wanted to say, Hosah didn't think he'd ever seen him so stressed, or even showing so much emotion at all.

"There weren't any shifter paramedics available as soon as possible, the last of the bodies must've been killed.. I don't know, barely a few minutes before they'd spotted him. If you'd have been here when we got here, might've had a shot.. Nevermind. I- Yeah. Just, don't stress yourself out about it."

Oh. That guilty feeling rushed straight to Hosah's head, he couldn't tell if he could see, or hear, or even breathe. If he'd have been here. If none of the past week had ever happened, there could've been one less body. Hosah knew getting hung up on 'what ifs' was pointless, but it was the fact Jeanne had said it that cemented the thought into his mind. If he could've been here, he could've done something.

It certainly wouldn't have been the first time he'd taken the role of paramedic, and hell, he'd even been successful on the rare off chance, but that's what stung so badly about it all. Even if he gave it his all and failed, at least he had the fact he tried his hardest to cushion his fall. But he wasn't there, he couldn't have tried, and it was all too late now.

So clouded in his own guilt and selfishness, Hosah couldn't hear Teddy's pleas to just say something, anything. Anything that would tell him he was still, at least on a physical level, alive and well. The ringing in his ears was far too loud, and his vision far too blurred, even his heart in his throat prevented him from making a sound.

The tiny man blinked, snapping back into reality,

"Hosah, Hosah, hey-" Teddy's voice was panicked now, although there was no reason to be really, it's not like his boss could've died in the minute or so he spent wallowing in the pocket. "Hosah. You're crying."

"What? No, no I'm," he felt for his face, realising there were in fact tears streaming down his face. "Shit, ah, I am," Hosah had to laugh, or he'd probably start sobbing for real.

"He's wrong, you know. I took a look at the photos, and, looks to me like the fifteenth body bled to death. I- Well, I don't really wanna sit and describe it, but, you know," the assistant blabbered on, trying to find any minor detail that'd bring comfort to the disheveled man in his pocket. That didn't really matter to him, though, he didn't want to hear logic, he just wanted to drown in sorrow for a while.

-~-

The rest of the day was a blur. Hosah was all too caught up in his own head to really know what was going on around him. He sat once again on his assistants desk, pacing from one end of the paper to the other, reading body number #15's report until he could recite it from memory. Young girl, barely an adult, unidentified but matches description of a recently missing person.

He pulled his hair and scratched at his face, but that didn't change her fate. Teddy seemed to be right, upon close inspection to the pictures, there were decently wide piercings through the palms of both her hands. Hosah was no forensic pathologist, but that seemed enough to do the trick if left long enough. It made him sick to look at the pictures, whoever did this must've thought themselves to be some kind of artistically edgy try hard. Kneeled over the stack of files, notes and photographs, the detective scoffed to himself.

This wasn't artistic, this wasn't beautiful in any regard. None of these fifteen people had any interest in dying, they were just accessible and easy enough to use for whatever sick message this individual was trying to put out.

"Still looking over these?" The voice seemed to appear out of nowhere, making Hosah practically jump to his feet. Jeanne always had a way of emerging out of thin air when he'd least expect it.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to brush off his surprise, "Yeah, you know how it is."

The two sat in the quiet of the practically empty office for a few seconds. It had already gotten dark outside, and Teddy had wandered off to get coffee a good while ago by now.

"Mm, I'm sorry I told you , that, earlier. We were all stressed out, my brain went, I wasn't thinking straight. It's not your fault." Jeanne had leant down close to the surface of the cluttered desk.

The shrunken man just shrugged, too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to argue about it. "I get it. It's fine. I know not to get worked up about that kind of stuff." He lied, he really didn't know not to linger on the possibilities, what could've become of everyone he had the chance of saving.

"You might have a little body, but you have a big heart. Big, bleeding heart. You're empathetic, and you can't let this job take that away from you. You know, I wish I could feel like you seem to do." These kinds of sweet words meant a lot coming from someone Hosah had looked up to for so long.

Jeanne had always been the 'cool older cousin he so desperately wanted to be like when he grew up' type of figure. A mentor, someone that stuck up for him and helped him out. Honestly, the pair didn't really know much about each other and their pasts, but they didn't need to. They didn't even need to be anywhere near each other to know all it'd take was a call, and they'd be there.

The, lack of, response from Hosah seemed to make his superior nervous, "I worded that really weirdly, but you get what I'm talking about."

"Thanks. Don't overthink it, I get what you meant in the moment and I get what you're saying now." Well, he understood the sentiment at least. What he didn't really get was how one could feel in the same way as himself, was it not normal to experience every emotion as if it took over your entire body and mind? Weird. Hosah was aware he wasn't the most Average Joe, but he thought he at least had the same inner works that made up every human.

"Well," Jeanne stood to his full height, which wasn't too substantial, but still towered above Hosah's, "Don't be hanging around too late. I'm not sure Edward will appreciate it."

And just as quickly as he came, the illusive detective disappeared into the dimly lit maze of hallways. Although he could've sat and stared at the case file for another minute or so, staring at the empty space where Jeanne stood just a few moments ago seemed more productive. Besides, he worried if he stared back down, he'd fall straight to sleep right then and there.

Familiar footsteps approached, shaking Hosah's attention toward the opposite direction. Teddy was back with coffee and a singular bottle-cap. Eugh. The shifter knew all too well what this meant. Suddenly he felt as though he had been transported into the kinds of romance dramas his mom would watch back home, sweet and shy girl-next-door shrinks and is found by her dashing and mysterious boy crush, and only a true loves kiss can return her to normal. He wasn't actually sure how the two correlated, but it seemed to be a common enough trope to be laughable.

The assistants voice was hushed as he profusely apologised for taking so long, sitting back down in his seat and preparing a portion of the hot drink for Hosah.

"We're even now, you make me coffee, I make you one," Teddy wheeled his chair up closer, taking the first sip for himself.

Hosah couldn't tell if it was the sleep deprivation that made him laugh, or just the overall stupidity in the statement. Either way, he could use the caffeine. He'd already spent far too long trying to forget about the fact he'd let a few tears slip back earlier in the day, falling asleep on the commute home would be the ultimate loss of pride he had for himself, and any respect his assistant held for him.

Looking into the small sea of black coffee before him, the shifter realised just how disheveled he looked. Damn. Mental note taken, see a doctor immediately. Realising the fact he could barely keep his eyes open, Hosah took that as a sign he should probably drink up now too. There was just something about a bottle-cap full of coffee being so difficult to lift that was particularly embarrassing. Worried his shaky arms might slip, potentially ending up with a piping hot liquid burning at his skin, Hosah hurried to finish as quickly as possible. Luckily, partaking in such a mundane activity such as sharing a drink with a coworker didn't result in a disaster.

Focusing on something else in the room was a good idea. The tiny man's eyes nosied around his surroundings before landing on the digital clock to his right. God, almost ten o' clock already.

"We should head back now. It's getting late." Hosah stood to his full height, ready to be chauffeured via pocket all the way home. 

By now, he was very much tired of the pocket, and the subway station, and of his entire existence. The process of back and forth every day was getting increasingly boring. There was no fun in being cramped up in a stuffy coat all day.

Fortunately, the fact Hosah was slipping in and out of consciousness the whole way home made the journey much more bearable, although the falling feeling and the jolting awake so often became increasingly annoying after the third or fourth time.

He couldn't really care about dignity right now, just the fact he was able to sleep at all given the repeated mental beatings he'd received just in one day. This kind of job was bad for his health, high stress causes higher chances of being stuck at his shrunken height, or so that's what his doctor theorised. Most shifters had a cause for their shifting. Strong emotions, high stress situations, imbalance in hormones, underlying diseases, but Hosah, after years of bi-weekly checkups, had no excuse.

Hosah's shifting was a total mystery. There wasn't a single thing in the book he hadn't tried to get himself under control. Medication, therapy, monitoring his diet and his heart rate, hell, he'd even been hypnotised once, but his height changed were so sporadic, they couldn't be predicted in the slightest. In fact, the only commonality in it all was that stupid dream.

On the topic of dreaming, the pocket-sized detective was shrugged awake by the rustling of keys against the fabric of which he leaned against. Home at last.

A sudden urge to stay stiff had taken over the tiny body, although he was awake, something inside of him refused to let him move. Even when Teddy gave a little sing-song 'We're home' , the shifter couldn't find it in him to budge.

Despite the fact regular, fully conscious Hosah will hate himself for it in the future, current sleepy Hosah just wanted to be held and carried all the way to bed. This wasn't like him, being touched, no less by Teddy, was not something he particularly enjoyed, but here he was, heavy lidded and drowsily smiling to himself as the gentle fingers wrapped around his waist.

Still in his work clothes and boots, Teddy set down the tiny form down on his sheetless futon. In his best attempt to make a quick and seamless exit , Teddy could barely get out a ‘see you tomorrow’ before being confronted by the scene in front of him;

“Don’t go, please” If the Hosah with half of a mind could hear himself right now, he’d be immensely disappointed in what he’s become.

There was no way in the world Teddy could ever say no to that request.

He’d never felt his heart beat so fast as he awkwardly leant back to lay besides the impossibly small man lounging by the side of himself. Despite the fact he could definitely use the sleep, Teddy didn’t mind spending this time lying awake praying he didn’t accidentally roll over on-top of his co-worker.

Trying not to even make the slightest sound, Teddy twisted his body toward where Hosah lay. There he was, fast asleep surely enough. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man so peaceful, his eyebrow no longer furrowed as his body curled up, knees to his chest and arm folded the bottom of his face.

Teddy had secretly thought it many times before, but the man he’d carried around his pocket the last week was, in fact ,extremely beautiful. The first thing he’d noticed was Hosah’s big brown iris’ that made him look like a deer or something of the sort, then his high cheekbones and sharp jaw, now it was just how pretty he looked in such a serene state.

He was barely able to contain himself, his face from curling up into a smile as he watched the tiny chest rise and fall. That was another thing Teddy had found so beautiful about him, Hosah was just so small, the only thing he could think when he saw him this way was just how much the man looked like a little doll, the big eyes, the soft face despite having such sharp features, the detective just had an air of gracefulness that Teddy had only associated with the rococo style found in paintings.

For a moment, Teddy wondered what his boss would look like if he got an adequate amount of sleep and learnt how to shave properly. It already took a lot of will power to hold back from doing anything that could be humiliating or emasculating for the little guy. Such as, calling him things like that to his face. Teddy was just glad he was asleep so he didn’t have to witness just how badly his assistant was swooning over him. He’d already had to contain himself to an extortionate amount when Hosah had come up with such a cute nickname for him, now this was just too much to handle.

There had to be some kind of way to avoid getting these workplace crushes, but Teddy had already fallen too deep into it by now, and there was no shaking this one off it seemed.