#Obviously it's reckless and not really safe

[cryptidcalling]

Vesper thoughts; Late Night Swim (Please read the tags for CW before opening)

Sometimes, when it's late at night and he can't sleep, Vesper will go for a swim in the Citadel's private pool. Technically it's Pansa's, but Vesper uses it far more often. He keeps the overhead lights off, just turning on the ambient lights beneath the water, setting them to a soft pink. The water is cold at night, since he never bothers to turn on the heaters. He lowers himself in slowly and launches off the side with his feet, dipping below the water and silently swimming across the length of the pool. He touches his fingertips to the opposite wall, comes up for a breath, and then launches off again. He lets himself get lost in the rhythm of it, almost meditative as each gasp for breath and soft splash fills the otherwise silent room. He'd struggled with swimming when he was young. He'd never seen so much water in one place before, and he certainly couldn't imagine being able to move your body through it. He hadn't been the only cadet who couldn't swim, but he still wasn't willing to be left behind, learning this basic skill as others got to start the real training. He took up every second of pool time he was allowed to. The number of times he'd almost drowned was over half a dozen. It never stopped him. Tonight he swims with grace, barely perceptible in the dark, pink water. On one wall of the pool room is a massive window overlooking the city of Starport. Lights glimmer from below, but up above the jagged silhouette of skyscrapers is a clear view of the night sky. Three moons shine brightly, surrounded by the pinprick light of stars. Vesper lets it interrupt his focus, gliding to the edge of the pool and staring out. The city is always alight, never sleeping, alive with the constant flow of power thanks to Stardust, the lifeblood of the Empire. He's not unlike the city, in that way. As his gaze turns up towards the sky, he gets a familiar feeling in his chest. It feels like someone is pulling him, like there are two strong hands wrapped around his ribs tugging him out toward the sky. The tightness spreads up into his neck, feeling as if there's something lodged there, words he does not know trapped in his throat, desperately needing to be called out. He tries to follow the feeling, let the words free, but there's nothing. He remains silent. Finally, he pushes away from the wall and treads water in the center of the pool. If he looks closely at the water he can almost convince himself that it's reflecting the sky. Vesper takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He lets himself sink. He can feel it when his back makes contact with the floor. He looks behind him, but nothing is there. Stretching infinitely in all directions is the cold, eternal void of space. His hair flows up above him with no gravity to hold it down. Beyond him is a field of stars, trillions all clustered together, sisters lighting up the otherwise desolate stage in a glittering crescendo of flame and color. For a moment their magnificence is all he can comprehend, and he releases the knot in his throat in a silent, awestruck breath. Bubbles emerge from his mouth and float up and away.

Their beauty reaches his soul, but their warmth is inaccessible at this distance. The void's cold prickles against his skin. His fingers buzz like static, and when he finally brings them up to his face they're a bright pink. With a twitch, his fingertips break away into shimmering Stardust. There's an odd feeling in his chest again. It's different now, not being pulled away but rather crushing in on itself. It feels tight and uncomfortable, constricting his lungs and pressing hard against his bones. He watches as more of his hand disintegrates and floats away from him. It doesn't hurt much. It's prickly and uncomfortable, but then it's just numb. Maybe it will spread across his whole body. That wouldn't be so bad really. He could stay here forever that way. The pressure has turned into pain. It's crushing his lungs, traveling up his esophagus and winding around his throat. It hurts. He wants the light to spread faster, to reach his chest and turn it to dust so the ache will stop. He'll be at rest, his body turned to Stardust, the lifeblood of the Empire. The Empire. Vesper opens his eyes. He breaks the surface of the water with a crash and is able to make his way to a ledge, resting his weight against it as he violently coughs and gasps for air. It takes him several minutes to finally catch his breath. He's tired, and he's freezing, but he feels more at ease than he had before. He gets out and dries himself off, changing into some very comfortable pajamas, a gift from Pansa. He returns to his quarters and crawls back into bed. The covers are soft and warm. Feeling cozy and exhausted, he finds it easy to drift off to sleep. He dreams of stars.

[junkdrawerfics]

You're Scaring Me

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.

Word Count: 3558

Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.

Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.

---

Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.

You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.

Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.

On one term, at least

“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add

“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.

“Darlin.”

His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.

“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat. 

The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.

“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.

“Of course, Major.”

The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.

Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”

You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”

“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.

You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.

“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.

You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”

“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”

You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.

“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”

He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.

It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?

---

That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.

Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.

Everything would be fine.

You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.

Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.

---

“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”

“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”

“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”

“God willing.”

You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter. 

On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.

Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-

-and you’re falling.

You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.

They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.

The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.

God, you’re so screwed.

—

“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.

Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.

There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty. 

You’re not here.

An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-

The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.

You didn’t listen to him. 

The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering. 

It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.

The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.

---

The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.

Not that fate really cares about what you think.

You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.

Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-

You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.

“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.

Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.

You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.

It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.

“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway. 

He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.

You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”

“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.

“I was just goi- going to get food!”

The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”

“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.

The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.

“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”

“I didn’t-”

“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”

You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.

“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.

A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.

But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.

“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.

You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…

“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”

The change is instant.

Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.

And you crumble.

Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.

“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”

He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them. 

Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure. 

“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”

“But-”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”

Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”

You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”

“Let me see.”

You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.

Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.

His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.

“Major, you’re scaring me.”

After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.

“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”

He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.

When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”

You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.

“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”

“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.

You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”

“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”

Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”

The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.

“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”

“Thanks, hun.”

---

This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.

So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!

[rubiehart]

thinking about how childhood!best friend trope for jj is just perfect for him

obviously he has this deep rooted belief from his dad that he’s unlovable and he’ll never be worth anything more than any other maybank before him, so whenever a girl would inevitably fall for his charming personality he might just per-sue it for one night, ending in pleasure for both parties but then pushing her away when he’d receive a text asking to meet up somewhere for a casual date after ushering her out of the chateau at early hours in the morning, making up excuses or just straight up ghosting the poor girl because he truly believes nobody could ever love him so he’d rather just not suffer the heartbreak of losing someone and just not even try.

this is how he ends up with his reputation of being a ‘heartbreaker’, girls not wanting to get involved with someone like him at risk of being heartbroken by his reckless behaviour, the only person that would truly understand him is his childhood best friend, having seen everything he’s been through his whole life.

always being the first to comfort him after an unpleasant altercation with his dad, always the first he goes to for advice about girls;, swinging head to toe in the hammock as the sun sets over the horizon sharing a j, legs tangled together, both of them focusing on ignoring the life long tension between you, but it was never awkward, nothing could ever be awkward with each others, you knew everything about one another so there really was nothing to hide.

he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were, despite knowing you pretty much his whole life, you’d really grown into your looks and he’d argue you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, but he’d never actually admit it, he wasn’t about to risk such an important friendship for something that wouldn’t be fail proof, love just wasn’t his thing and he wasn’t planning on changing his opinion any time soon, so he casts his gaze away from your lips, tuning back into whatever you were rambling about.

on particularly hot summer days in the banks, all the pogues gathered together like normal on the hms pogue, you sat on the bow, legs slung over jj’s lap, ray-bans he got from who knows where perched on his head, pushing back his blonde mop in a way that made his freckled nose stand out on the beaming sun, occasionally stealing sips of his beer, bringing the glass bottle to your lips and sucking, an innocent act but it meant much more to jj, especially with your tits pressed together deliciously by the triangles of your new red bikini, the thong so small that if he looked long enough he could make out the outline of your chubby cunt, the thought making his dick twitch in his swim trunks.

but it didn’t mean anything, right? that’s what he told himself that night when he had his right hand gripping his cock desperately, other hand gripping the sheets as he tried to conceal his groans, the mental image of your lips wrapped around the bottle and the way your tits pressed together perfectly in your bikini spurring his orgasm on. after he came he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, thoughts of you consuming his mind. but it didn’t mean anything, none of this meant he was in love or even liked you in that way at all, you were his best friend and no matter what he was keeping it that way.

he told himself this continually, anytime he felt his heart pang when your touch would linger on him for a little longer than the other guys. it’s because you’re best friends. anytime it was him you’d go to for guy problems, spilling your sex stories to him when you had even a drop of alcohol in your system. it’s because you’re best friends. she just trusts you. he told himself this when his first instinct after any fight was to run to you and break down in your arms and let you clean his wounds because he felt safe with you, knowing you wouldn’t judge him for the way he felt, the only person in the world who understood him. it’s because you’re best friends, no other reason.

he told himself this until the answer to his feelings was staring him in the face, literally. your naked frame splayed out on the same bed he’d busted to the thought of you on multiple occasions. he realised it then, he loved you, but he had loved you long before that, long before the lingering touches, long before you grew into your beauty, long before the jealousy of other guys getting to touch what was now finally his, he’d always loved you, before he even really knew what love was.

[lenaellsi]

if you take "I can make a difference" at face value you simply must also consider "you're the bad guys.” like they are both vital aspects of aziraphale's decision. the problem is not just aziraphale's attempt to lead a corrupt system, it is also his continued belief in the superiority of heaven and angels over hell and demons. that's why crowley was so hurt. it's not just a miscommunication, or a disagreement on the practicalities of changing hearts and minds in heaven--it is a fundamental misunderstanding of morality and of crowley as a person. if crowley had asked aziraphale to come to hell to help fix it and protect the earth, he would not have gone. he says so. it’s not just about safety, or reform. it is about being Good.

and all of this happens because aziraphale is not just motivated by fear and love: he is also motivated by shame. he is insecure in his identity as an angel and a Good Guy, and both his alienation from heaven and his relationship with crowley have always aggravated this insecurity. it’s why shax’s mockery hit him so hard, and why he’s so susceptible to manipulation from the metatron. he desperately wants to be taken seriously and treated with respect and to have power and be an uncomplicated Good Guy, and that is just as much of a motivating factor in his decision as his desire to protect humanity and crowley.

and re: “appoint you to be an angel”: I know people want to insist that aziraphale has never wanted to change anything about crowley, but I’m sorry, I just don’t think that’s true. over and over in season 2 aziraphale demonstrates a desire to sand the rough edges off people and things for the sake of the Greater Good, without consideration for the free will or complex emotions of others. obviously this tendency culminates in the ball, where he exerts control over all of the humans to make everything perfect for maggie and nina, and in doing so, infringes on their autonomy and nina’s (crowley’s narrative mirror!) capacity to feel her own anger and sadness. and he has never liked that crowley is a demon. in his mind, the problem has always been that crowley was put in the wrong category, not that the entire system of dividing people and angels into Good and Bad is ridiculous. that’s the exact lesson he needs to learn.

and yes, his intentions are good, absolutely. I don’t think aziraphale ever acts out of malice, and I do think he genuinely wants the best for the people around him, particularly crowley. after all, if crowley is accepted as an angel again, as aziraphale has always secretly considered him to be, their relationship can (in his mind) finally stop being so fraught with danger and conflict. (the other side of that, of course, is that aziraphale can also stop being so ashamed for loving someone who is supposed to be Bad, and everything in his life will make sense again, the way it hasn’t since he met that star maker who got so upset about god’s plan.)

but that’s not who crowley is, and it never has been. even before he fell, crowley’s recklessness and relentless questions made aziraphale uncomfortable. their relationship has never been safe or easy, and in wanting to make it so, aziraphale is demonstrating a desire to change the parts of crowley that led to his fall, whether he intends to or not.

I’m rambling, but the point is: the insistence on reframing this moment as a purely selfless, calculated, self-sacrificing decision by aziraphale to protect crowley and the world ignores the uglier parts of the things he said in order to make their eventual reconciliation less complicated, and it’s really frustrating to me. crowley is in fact right to be upset by what he said, and it’s not just a misunderstanding that can be fixed with aziraphale saying “I was only trying to protect you!” and another kiss. it’s a culmination of all of the double think aziraphale has been doing in order to preserve his vision of heaven as The Source Of Truth And Light And Good since before the beginning of time, and it’s time for him to finally unpack it.

(and because every post on the final fifteen needs a disclaimer: aziraphale is trying his best and has an incredible amount of love in his heart and wants so badly to do good and ALSO the things he says, does, and believes can be incredibly hurtful and destructive. all of these things can be true.)

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about hcs for yandere hero Katsuki vs yandere villain Kirishima for a reporter darling who always gets caught in the middle of their fights , romance for both of them please.

I thought the roles would be swapped, but here's my ideas on this :)

Yandere! Hero! Bakugo vs Yandere! Villain! Kirishima with Reporter! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Blood, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Swearing on Bakugo's part, Dubious relationship.

Bakugo and Kirishima used to be such good friends in U.A.

Nowadays it seems things have changed.

Out of the two of them, no one really expected Kirishima to turn to villainy.

Others always assumed Bakugo would due to his temper and volatility.

But, despite his personality, Bakugo managed to show everyone he can be a pro hero.

It's unknown why Kirishima defected but... such details are lost in the past.

In a way the two 'friends' still meet.

Often in battle... some even wonder if they seek one another out.

Perhaps it's Bakugo's attempt to rehabilitate Kirishima once catches him...?

Either way, you are often the one on the scene to report on the two.

At first it was because you were fascinated.

The backstory behind them both intrigues you, making you naturally want to know more.

However, over time when you try to do other cases, you somehow get caught up between the two.

It feels... planned.

Your first meeting was simple.

You were a bit reckless, asking your crew to get a bit closer to the two...

Only for Kirishima to lock eyes with you... and take you hostage for flying too close to the sun.

Yes... Your first interaction with the two was a hostage situation... on live TV.

Bakugo no doubt pauses when he sees you in his ex-best friend's arms.

He can't use his Quirk... you can't harden.

It becomes an awkward attempt to... talk to one another with you trapped against Kirishima's chest.

Kirishima is obviously trying to antagonize Bakugo by taunting him.

It nearly works... until Bakugo hears you whimper and struggle weakly against Kirishima.

He... He can't... He needs to be careful.

Kirishima no doubt playfully flirts with you to toy with Bakugo, holding you close and calling you adorably vulnerable.

The situation is tense.

But, eventually, Bakugo manages to land a clean hit without his quirk to get Kirishima to drop you.

The villain hisses in pain as Bakugo picks you up and leaves the scene to put you somewhere safe.

Your first encounter pumps adrenaline through you... You were understandably scared.

However, you still watched them both from a distance to report on their battles.

It's still your job.

... Then the two of them picked up on it....

Perhaps Kirishima playfully waves at you, only to use his quirk when Bakugo blasts him.

That or maybe you Interview Bakugo after the battle, only for him to try and hide his embarrassed blush... and Kirishima photo bombing the camera before fleeing.

The two are oddly still... amicable to one another despite their sides.

Naturally, as a reporter, you speak with Bakugo after battles.

Which sometimes catches the attention of Kirishima, who has an interest in you.

You felt so good in his arms... He wants that again.

Bakugo, due to having been friends with the villain, no doubt senses Kirishima's interest.

Feeling responsible for such an issue... Bakugo becomes like a personal hero at times when you report.

Ironically... this both makes Bakugo attached to you and Kirishima around you more often.

Fans suspect Bakugo of being attached to this one reporter he saved.

You two are always together, even when you're trying to focus on a news event.

He just... never leaves you alone... even to the point of getting irritated when you push him away.

Many view this info with either envy or fully support it.

Someone somewhere has made fanfiction of you both, no doubt about it.

You may give in and start asking the pro hero to hang out when he's not busy.

Leading you to befriend the pro hero properly.

Bakugo doesn't mind the friendship... yet, as months pass with him protecting you and hanging out...

He realizes he really has fallen for you, a reporter he saved.

Kirishima, on the other hand, stalks you and always plans where he strikes around you.

You see, he both likes to annoy Bakugo and be around you.

Bakugo being around you helps him... but also annoys the villain.

Did he seriously fall for you like he did?

For Kirishima, it felt like love... or desire... at first sight.

Ever since he got you in his arms the first time... and the countless times after that to toy with you... He can't help but want that more.

But... Now Bakugo likes you, too.

He understands the appeal, yes, but he's not willing to share the cute reporter he found.

Now the two are fighting for an entirely different reason.

You could be doing an interview or reporting a news event, only for it to transition to Bakugo and Kirishima fighting again.

Kirishima is always playful, even sabotaging your report by coming up behind you and grabbing you with a wink.

You can bet that sets off fans too.

Then Bakugo practically tackles him off you.

Their battles are often intense... and bloody.

They're about an easy match with one another, Kirishima slightly weaker than Bakugo yet still able to hold his own.

It's a... complicated scenario for you, a reporter just trying to do their job.

A villain and a hero... Both completely enamored by you.

Even to the point of giving their bloody battles more purpose.

Often at the end of their battles you can see how bloody they get....

Kirishima always manages to bleed, his skin burned and scarred due to Bakugo's blasts.

You see Bakugo with lacerations and bruises after he fights with Kirishima's hardening quirk.

Sometimes you even talk to him as he's treated, the pro hero often telling you to be quiet or shut up... yet he really enjoys your voice.

It's only matter of time before Kirishima decides to try something new.

Sure, being playful on camera with you and toying with Bakugo is fun...

But he's getting tired of sharing.

I can see Kirishima sneaking around at night and into your home, only to trap you in his arms.

"Hey, cutie... I think we're done playing games, yeah? Bakugo can't be around all the time to save you...."

Kirishima would attempt kidnapping you at some point, perhaps months after following you and Bakugo around.

Bakugo, of course, is beyond pissed and worried when he realizes you aren't home.

Bakugo has found himself having a tendency to check in on you at your home to hang out.

But... when he finished a hero mission... he noticed he hasn't heard from you and hasn't seen Kirishima...

Which makes his blood boil.

You just know Bakugo would level buildings to find you.

All while Kirishima keeps you in one of his bases of operation, acting oddly nice with you.

He offers you food and gifts, perhaps a drink or two, just a chance to get to know each other.

"DynaMight's been telling you I'm dangerous to you, huh? Typical of a hero... well... maybe I just want to get to know you? You're just so cute, know that?"

I can see Kirishima actually getting you to trust him or at least be more open to hear more about him.

He admits his interest, which catches you off guard, but before you can even ask about it...

The side of the base blows open, causing you both to jump.

"YOU!"

Bakugo's voice is like that of a roar as he stalks closer, seething.

"YOU TOOK THEM AND RAN OFF WITH THEM, RED RIOT? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?"

Kirishima seems oddly playful with his grin, pulling you close.

"Oh, DynaMight! Had no idea you'd be joining us~"

"I'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE WHOLE DAMN CITY FOR YOU, HAND THEM OVER."

"Nuh uh, finders keepers, dude. I always saw them first."

The issue with this rivalry is its... volatility.

The two are destructive when they fight.

Would they kill one another? Not intentionally.

But Bakugo would damn near want to after the stunt Kirishima's pulled.

This would be the point where something has to be done.

It's either Kirishima turns himself in... or someone's dead.

The worst part about it...?

You're stuck in the middle with no choice but to see the outcome.

[spacedace]

Continuation/blurb/snippet from this writing prompt.

It took less than a week to get custody of the Fenton children.

Oswald expected that it wouldn’t take long with his connections, but even that turn around is faster than what he expected. He'd anticipated pulling strings, greasing palms, maybe making some threats, but before he can even think of getting things moving to do so the paperwork is signed and a social worker is calling him to sort out the travel arrangements for the kids.

It's all done local, the judge, CPS, the witnesses and lawyers, each and every one calling the town home. Each and every one pushing the case through at a speed that Oswald didn't think was possible even in the most crooked of situations. He smelled conspiracy, but not - surprisingly - a malicious one.

Amity wasn't the smallest place in the world, but it was small enough. And the Fentons were public figures, though not in the way that Jack and Maddie Fenton obviously thought they were. How long had the people of Amity been watching things go wrong for the kids? How long had they been trying - in their own, limited ability - to help? Long enough to get desperate, seemed to be the answer.

The only resistance Oswald can find as he reviewed all the information he could get ahold of, was from the Mayor - Jazz and Danny's godfather, somehow more crooked than even Gotham's elected officials as far as Oswald could tell - and the Dr's. Fenton themselves.

The Mayor was summarily denied any influence of the case by the judge on the grounds of the long standing and publicly recorded ugliness of Master's relationship with Danny - which was something else Oswald was going to have to figure out. Along with all the…ghost stuff.

Oswald wasn't sure what to make of the ghost stuff.

Honestly he was leaving it for his people to figure out and wrangle into a reasonable explanation to report to him later. It was…something, a big something, and not - as he'd originally suspected upon initial cursory research into the town - a tourist gimmick or an overly high meta population. A later problem, provided he had to co tend with it at all once the children were officially in his custody in Gotham.

The biggest issue had been the kid's parents. Or really, the biggest issue had been the shady government agency backing the kids' parents.

The Fentons were the Ghost Investigation Ward's pet mad scientists. Creating weapons and genocidal plans - against ghosts - and generally tormenting the towns' living inhabitants just as much as the undead ones. The GIW had been protecting Jack and Maddie from any repercussions of their recklessness, and were willing to butt in on an unexpected custody battle in order to keep their maniacal golden geese happily working away.

From what Oswald had heard, a representative of the GIW had shown up to convince the judge to dismiss the case, but the judge had been faster. By the time the men in all white appeared - garish and tacky in their ill fitted, bulky suits - it had been too late of course. The judge had apparently anticipated their impending appearance and had made their ruling and had everything filed tidily late the night before. Courts did not typically stay running til three in the morning, but apparently an exception had been made.

There were a great many things wrong with Amity Park - wrong in a lot of ways they were in Gotham, wrong in ways they weren't - but the people that called the place home seemed to have come to a decision on one thing: the Fenton children were not safe, and unknown or not they were trusting Oswald to get them out of there.

It was strange and a little overwhelming, for an entire population that did not know him to see him as some kind of hope. Some kind of hero.

There were many, many things wrong in Amity Park.

He tried to assure himself when everything was said and done and the kids were packed and on their way that it wasn't his problem. He was officially Jazz and Danny's guardian, in a city half a country away that even with his - nominally- cleaned up act he held a great deal of power over. He was nearly untouchable within Gotham's shadow, and no one from some half-mad town was going to be able to do anything to change that.

He made preparations though, just in case. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being stupid. The Bat could use something to chew on that wasn't one of Oswald's entirely legitimate business ventures anyway. An ethically suspect government agency that was likely to come sticking their noses in Gotham's business sooner than later would do just nicely for that, and might even earn him some kind of grace from Gotham's brooding knight without getting him in hot water with any of the city's criminal element.

All that was left at that point was actually meeting the kids in person.

His kids.

He ignored the strange, bittersweet ache that touched his heart at that. It was, after all, entirely a means of improving his reputation in the city. The kids mean an end. He'd take care of him the same he did all his people, but not any more than that.

It was just business.

If he reminded himself enough, it might even be true one day.

He suspected though, as he laid eyes on them for the first time - shadow eyed and leery, haunted in a way that ghosts couldn't manage and looking not much at all like Oswald outside the fear and the pain he did his best to forget from his own upbringing - that the point of not caring had been passed the minute he'd gotten that first call.

*

Apologies if Penguin is out of character, all I know about him is what I vaguely remember from TAS, what I’ve absorbed from fandom and what I tried to put together from a wiki lol.

I did this instead of sleeping last night because I couldn’t get the initial idea out of my head (which slightly defeats the purpose of making it a writing prompt so that I could just read everyone else’s wonderful thoughts and writings on the idea instead of getting side tracked from my other writing projects - again lol - but oh well).

I don’t know if I’ll write anymore, and as with everything else I post this is open for anyone who is interested to run with.

Tag time!

@phoenixdemonqueen @justgray15777 @gin2212 @blankliferain @meira-3919 @lexdamo @hallowsden @derpygirl64 @thewondersoflebanon @amercurio @vythika96 @my-perfect-storybook-love @apointlessbox

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hi! so im obviously freaking out over Lewis winning his home race and i wanted to ask if you could make a one shot where y/n and lewis have been secretly together for a while but the public isn’t aware because she doesn’t really want to be in the public eye but she’s in the garage during the race and he kisses her when he wins after hugging his team

All i wanted was you

Angsty!! if y’all’s want a part two there will be one :)

If someone predicted that you’d be dating a formula one driver you’d laugh in their face and if they continued to tell you that it would be none other then Sir Lewis Hamilton you’d probably smack them in the head for being so cruel to you.

Well the funny thing is that you’d actually end up being a with a formula one driver who is none other than

Sir Lewis Hamilton.

Life had the perfect plans for you.

It was funny really how you two met.

It was a quiet night out in the outskirts of london just having been ditched from your old best friend and being forced to walk in the cold rain it’s safe to say you were not pleased in the slightest.

Feet trembling body shaking and hair wet which had you feeling like a drowned rat, you’d decided to be reckless and stupid and just walk home not knowing how it where home really was to you it seemed like the beginning of a murder mystery.

Not all hope was lost though that night way have started shitty but ended up with you finding your way to Lewis. His car had decided to make his life a little bit more difficult and had nudged you into the ground.

What started out as just making sure you were okay due to him feeling guilty ended up being a hidden relationship. your secret moments in crowded rooms they had no idea about you and him.

There was always an indentation in the shape of him, he made a mark on you a golden tattoo.

Never had you ever thought that you would have been in a hidden relationship with Lewis Hamilton.

Fate had never been on your side especially in your love life. Having endured both emotionally and physically abusive relationships you were at your wits end with men. But Lewis was different, everything he did for you was filled with so much love thought and care more than you were ever given in your life.

He knew all your favorite books he knew all your favorite movies flowers destinations.

On multiple occasions he had ended up showing up with flowers at your door simply because he wanted too. Maybe your luck truly had changed when he walked into your life.

You knew how talented Lewis was purely based on his impressive ability throughout the years. You were always yearning to see it live though.

It was a year into your hidden relationship when you had first brought up the idea of coming to a race with Lewis and he had quickly dismissed the idea saying that the fans wouldn’t be nice and he loved the little bubble the two of you were in.

You really hadn’t thought much into what he had said brushing it off as Lewis wanting to protect you more than anything.

You just booked the flight without a thought in the world simply wanting to be there and see your man in his absolute best.

It was nagging in the back of your mind as you knew Lewis wasn’t one for a public relationship but you really wanted to show the world that Lewis Hamilton had finally settled down.

In a haste decision you packed up all your bags and decided to show up at the Silverstone Grand Prix.

Just something about finally pulling this off made you feel giddy on the inside.

Silly you, little did you know that you were jumping headfirst towards the eye of the tornado brewing ahead.

Now, many would find Lewis being a level head person someone who had finally calmed down and not as fiercely competitive as they used to be. In reality he was further from that. Mercedes really were horrible this year, Lewis hadn’t won in over a year.

A win in silverstone prior to leaving Mercedes would have just been legendary. Out of a fairy tale.

Things were not looking too good and that must have played heavily into Lewis’s mind and made him react the way he did when he saw you all smiles and giggles hands over his eyes waiting for him in his drivers room.

Any normal person would have been surprised and thrilled to see what they called their love of their life wanting for them in their room.

No one honestly knew what snapped in Lewis.

It was the added pressure of seeing his favorite person seeing him fail.

Lewis had a routine. Horrible race - Interviews- Anger- Meditation- Your time.

But you showing up had ruined that routine and had lead to Lewis’s snapping.

When you first saw his blank face you just thought that he was taking time to register the fact that you were right there with him. it wasn’t.

Something blazed in his eyes and it wasn’t love or the dark desire he normally had.

It was anger.

He’d snapped at you harsh and cruel.

Lewis muttered words that he would have never dreamed of saying to you.

Something along the lines of

“you know I am under immense pressure ”

“why couldn’t you have just listened to me and stay put. ”

“This is fucking stupid why are you so inconsiderate.”

“I already have enough to deal with I can’t be there to coddle you when the fans get to you y/n.”

“so fucking sensitive why are you crying now?”

“I can’t deal with you being here let alone the media seeing you? I didn’t need you here to ruin everything”

“it’s my home Grand Prix I need to focus on the fans and not you”

Those words broke the already broken parts of you. He didn’t recognize how shattered you looked. All he registered was that you had gone against his word and had showed up. He hurt you even when he told you no he begged you he wouldn’t.

That’s how he had left you alone in his drivers room hurt and embarrassed the mechanics had picked up on the tension in his room and had just given you a sad smile offering to take you back to your hotel room so that you could have some time off.

Now on Lewis’s side this anger and storm he had just started would force him to drive the best race of his life almost for redemption of his poor behavior.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 2

Intro: Heartslabyul in an isekai AU.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, proofread by quillbot, almost falling in Riddle's part, mentions of poisoning in Trey's part, also a little suggestive on Trey's, just a bit

A/N: I'm happy the previous parts seem well liked. I'm currently working on the endings, but it might take a while, so please remain patient. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Your childhood friends leave a year earlier than you do for the magic school, but it's fine. That means you have one more year to prepare yourself before going to the battlefield, which may or may not be your deathbed. After all these years, you've finally become an accomplished heir! You even dabble in a little bit of swordsmanship in your spare time, and your father tells you you'll make for an excellent knight should you wish for it. Maybe you would have taken up his offer if you were still that same person from years ago, but now you want to face your fate head-on! In any case, Jamil and Kalim were still waiting for you in the magic school, and you just can't let them down. Your first day there is a mess, though.

It's a boarding school with dormitories for all sorts of races, and with one wrong turn after the other, you find yourself stepping off a cloud and plummeting to your doom. You're caught in the air by magic, safely levitated back up to the cloud by a red-headed angel who scolded you to Heaven and back for being reckless, as well as going to the angels' dormitories when you're very clearly human.

Congratulations! You've met Riddle Rosehearts, the heir of the Saintess of Heaven!

He collars you with his signature magic, telling you to deal with it because it was obviously your fault for trespassing. And it is, but you didn't even know how you got up there! Apologies leave your lips and you promise, you're very sincere. It was an honest mistake. You were just human after all. Surely, being the smart and awesome and cool angel he is, he wouldn't hold it against you? His forgiveness comes at the price of one (1) strawberry tart. The next day, you come by his dorm, on purpose this time, and tell him that you even brought nice lemon tea as proof that you were super duper really sorry. The collar comes off.

Now, you're not stupid. Riddle isn't good news because he's a capture target, you know? But your new friends, Ace and Deuce (who are in no way related to the original game), are also angels! And you see Riddle more often than you would have liked, but he's... not terrible, actually. He's a stickler for the rules, but you find that bribing him with sweets is an easy way to get a more lenient sentence. He's kind and smart, and you find yourself asking for his help for certain subjects when Jamil was way too busy looking after Kalim (and the rest of the human dormitory). When you start to think of him as a sort of friend, he confides that his upbringing was a bit too tough, even for Heaven, and that he's now scared of breaking the rules his mother had set in fear of losing it all.

And you sigh. You can be friends with him, probably. He's okay. Then, that's another male lead who might not kill you.

Your fingers gently trace the pure white feathers that grew on his wings. "Your wings are so beautiful, Riddle senpai." You praise happily, pulling off dirt and hair from little nooks and crannies.

"Um, thank you, I suppose." Your hand reaches the tip of his wing, brushing against a bent feather.

"Can I pull off the damaged feathers?"

Riddle nods, and you take it as your cue to snap off the pretty thing and hold it out next to him. "Can I keep it? It'll make for a cute necklace, I think."

Riddle pauses, his face turning as red as his hair. You feel like you've offended him somehow, but he nods again, looking away. "...It's yours, then, if you want it."

You really need a break. All you've done recently is study! And as you face the two sleeping idiots with their heads buried under books, you decide to go and raid the angel dormitory's kitchen. Anyway, if Riddle found out someone ate his pastries, you could just say that you were never there in the first place! Yes, yes, as slithery as a snake, invisible like a middle child.

You tiptoe your way down the stairs and thank the literal Heavens that the angels' dorm had a strict curfew, so no one can even catch you in the act.

Ha, sike.

The lights are on, and it smells like paradise, if paradise were in the form of chocolate chip cookies. There's a tall, green-haired angel with glasses and a cheesy 'Kiss the Cook' apron, and he gives you a mischievous grin and a cookie to buy your silence. You chew on the delicious treat with your eyes closed and think that it's just to die for. No, really, because the person who gave you the cookie is none other than Trey Clover. And in the otome game, the villain died via poisoning on this to-be-archbishop's route. So be a smart cookie, turn tail, and run. You should do that. Right. But when he mumbles something about there being chocolate mousse and banana pudding in the fridge that might also buy your silence, you agree to his terms and gorge yourself on desserts while seated on the counter, your legs swinging while you chat with him. He's stress baking, he says, because third-year assignments have been piling up, and you learn that he's learned how to bake and make treats from his grandfather, who'd learned how to do it from some human.

Your frequent study sessions with the ADeuce combo are punctuated with you sneaking off in the middle of the night and eating whatever Trey's making. You feel a little guilty, just enough to offer to help, and you feel so honored when he buys you your own little 'Kiss the Cook' apron as a gift. You two start to bake together sometimes after class, and he's very enjoyable company. He's really nice, and he makes unfunny dad jokes while he tells you about random things that happened in his day, and you rant his ear off about your troublesome duo as well as your thoughts of getting a cat. You think he's a really sweet guy, and it's not long before you take out the journal of otome game things you've been keeping since you were three, just to cross his name out like the other ones.

Trey is safe. He's a fun older brother kind of guy, responsible, and mature. He wouldn't poison you if he got himself a significant other. Then there's only ten more guys to avoid. Good job, you!

Trey laughs as another handful of flour makes its way onto his face, and he easily repays the favor by smearing cream onto yours.

"Stop! I give, I give!" You surrender in fits of giggles, now finding yourself in between him and the counter. The laughter dies down, but his signature smirk is there. "Don't you give up just a bit too easily? You started it, after all." He teases, caging you in with his arms.

"Please, it's a strategic retreat."

"Is that so?"

"Obviously."

There's a few seconds of silence as he stares into your eyes. You move slyly to swipe a dab of flour from the counter, gently tapping it onto his nose. "I won, senpai."

[fictionismyreality3]

Ghost with a Crush

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, mentions of past trauma, knives

Notes: our silent n broody bbg Simon Riley will forever hold my heart 😩

first of all he doesn’t

at least not in the typical sense

he’s so emotionally blocked that he doesn’t even realize that he likes you for like 4 months

obviously has a lot of ✨trauma✨ surrounding trusting people and just basic human interaction that once he knows he likes you he’ll retreat into wherever and not talk to anyone for weeks

after he gets over himself he realizes that NOT knowing you would be worse than getting hurt

a lot of just staring at the start

like he’ll just stare at you for hours if he could because he almost can’t believe you’re real 😭

if you’re a soldier he absolutely doesn’t want you to be in that line of work

when you have to go on missions with him, he’s almost always completely distracted because keeping you safe is at the forefront of his mind

if you run off to do something reckless, even if you succeed and it helps the mission, he flips his shit

constantly checking in on you over the comms, so much so that you start to think he doesn’t have trust in you

always puts himself between you and whatever danger you’re facing

if you get injured he absolutely loses it

“Ghost, it’s fine, it’s not even that deep of a-” “let me look at it” “really, it’s fine I-” “sit your ass down and let me fuckin’ look at it.”

he really does have a staring problem

when you and the team go out for drinks he death glares at every single man, even if they aren’t looking at you

god forbid one comes up to talk to you 🤭

if one so much as TRIES to flirt with you he’s already fiddling (plotting a murder) with his knife

will cut a bitch

the first few months after he accepts that he likes you he’s just constantly h o v e r i n g

is always in the same room as you just coexisting peacefully in silence

he doesn’t mean to do it, your presence just calms him down and makes the noise in his head stop for a little while

eventually he gets insanely attached to you and will put your life above his 🫠

[basil-does-arttt]

so we all know how Bury The Light as a theme song represents Vergil and subsequently his story and themes within DMC 5??

Well obviously that means Subhuman is the same for Dante. So i did some thinking (wow big surprise there shocking i know)

The TLDR of this is my conclusion that Dante is reckless and overconfident because of his half-devil nature and as a result disregards his life and safety. Also, that Dante has mixed feelings about his demon side.

Specifically what got me to this thought was the line we all know if you've listened to subhuman:

"You cannot kill me, i am subhuman."

And,

I mean come on, the message couldn't have been written any clearer here. Because he's part demon, because he's - as Dante puts it, assumably the writing of this song is from his POV much like i assume Bury the Light is from Vergil's POV - sub-human, he believes he cant die. That whatever is thrown at him, no matter what or how dangerous the situation is, he naively believes he will come out the other end unscathed.

And to be honest, he kinda has reason to believe that thus far. If being stabbed at least 5 times throughout your life and brushing each one off as if it were a mere scratch wasn't enough to convince him, defeating so many different great demonic beasts including Mundus himself definitely would. I mean, who wouldnt? Whatever hell throws at Dante, surely cant be any worse than the actual fucking demon king or his own brother post-DMC 5. In a sense, he believes he is immortal.

But that way of thinking is shallow, its naive and leaves him open to danger because it makes him cocky. He thinks he's untouchable, and that way of thinking could get him seriously hurt or worse if he isnt careful. (As we see in the beginning of DMC 5 actually. He thinks "eh, ive fought worse, how bad could this actually be?" That "Its only Vergil, and ive fought him before." Only to have his shit kicked in and end up in a coma for a month. Imagine if that happened with a different demon that wasn't so merciful as to keep him alive for all that time, who would've jumped at the opportunity to rip him to shreds in an instant.)

I also want to go into how the song reflects Dante's (poor) mental health and his thoughts on being a half-demon.

Its kinda hard to catch unless you really think about it but the song is clearly negative in tone when it comes to describing Dante's own devil form. "As i call upon the dark gift to erupt" is one line that sticks out to me and i think is the best example of this. I also believe from the song that Dante views his DT as a seperate entity from himself; "I feel the devil in me, we're coming right for you".

"Funny how the mind tries to sink me deeper, as the evil tries to turn me around." The evil could be in reference to other demons, yes, but it also could be referencing his own "demon"; "i must not forget that i have bled, from no respect to the demons in my head". Wether that line means he's gotten himself hurt because of his own recklessness or self-harm i cant tell, and i wont assume one or the other specifically.

Throughout the song too, the lines "i cannot erupt, i must control, i cannot erupt, i must explode" to me also seems like Dante struggles with control of his DT, and is scared of losing himself when triggered. The whole tone of the song seems like a rampage of sorts too, its very aggresive and almost violent. "Something save me, put me out of my destiny, and drop me safely in this hell"; yet at the same time as his fears toward his own DT, it feels natural to him, this kind of "bloodlust" he feels in his triggered form is something he doesnt want but he knows he cant keep from happening entirely, so as a result the most comfortable place for him is in danger. He can let loose and he doesnt have to worry when all he's killing is demons. One last thing, "i see right past me, the eyes are flashing" to me sounds like Dante becomes almost dissociated when triggered, he's not really present in his mind and body and is acting on pure instinct alone.

All in all, Subhuman (like i said earlier) at first just sounded like an epic battle theme for Dante, but when i really listen to it, it becomes much sadder. Of course all of this could just be me bullshitting so id love to hear other's takes on this.

i also wanna analyze Bury the Light too. So i might do that later.

[gotham-daydreams]

What would've happened if Y/n wasn't even in Gotham? Maybe they went to another country or something

If that did happen, then I think the Batfam would put their connections to good use (superhero or otherwise)!

Bruce Wayne would report the reader as missing, and they'd effectively have everyone and their mom on the reader's ass, and lets just say that Y/n wouldn't be gone for long. Especially not when the Batfam has connects with the Superfam and, well, I don't think I really need to mention anything besides they have incredible hearing and can fly super fast. (Alfred definitely shows some of them recordings and such he has of the reader so they know what the reader looks like, and what their voice sounds like if they don't know the reader already. Even if one of members of the Superfam probably does, even if I don't know who that'd be in particular.)

Granted it may still take them a while because the reader is one whole person in a world full of billions of them, but if there is one trait the Batfam shares is that they are absolutely relentless. Some are more stubborn than others, yes, but stubborn nonetheless.

Eventually they'd find the reader, and considering who these people are, along with who they're working with at this point, I can imagine that they'd find the reader pretty quickly considering things.

Not to mention that the reader is a pretty well known musician at this rate (albeit not to a super popular/famous degree, but well known enough for people on the street to kind of notice who they are in a little surprised but mostly casual way), and most likely has no idea that the Batfam is even looking for them until they see an article of them, or one of their friends mentions that they're apparently "missing".

Which gets extra awkward because, well- obviously they're just living their life at this point, and still making music because it's their passion and dream. They're not just going to stop because they left the manor, and have probably released a few songs with a performance of theirs coming up. Even if the location may not be disclosed yet, it's like the announcement itself cements the reader's fate. Since it's almost acting as a signal that's like a "hey!! i'm here!!" And again, this is a family full of Detectives and such, they can get details from most places other people probably wouldn't.

So, maybe they'd find the reader after a few weeks to a month or two at the very latest. Especially with them, at this point, going full yandere because they've been obsessively looking for the reader over however long it took them to find them. That obsession of the Batfam's growing more and more by the day, and their own paranoia and worries fueling each others. Maybe it even gets to Damian a little, who knows.

Regardless, whenever they find Y/n they are at their wits end. Now it isn't even up for debate if they kidnap the reader or not. They will. They do.

It's swift, it's sloppy, it's impulsive, it's reckless, and even it isn't thought out at all, it's quick. Almost painless.

They all just want to hold the reader and say all these things — but they can't. Not here. Not while Y/n isn't home. Not yet. But they will. Soon.

Whoever holds the reader first doesn't get to hold them for long. They're practically snatched and grabbed from all of the members of the family as they fight over the Reader's unconscious body like starved, savage dogs trying to get that last bit of meat before they have to endure the pains of hunger again.

Eventually, they do settle, especially thanks to Batman and Alfred, and decide who would be the best fit to carry the reader for the rest of the trip. That sparks another fight, but eventually someone is chosen, and some of them even take turns as everyone heads back to Gotham, returning home safely with the reader. Bringing them back home. To their real home.

Safe to say, the reader's freedom? Absolutely taken away, it practically doesn't exist anymore. Along with their personal space, as the Batfam needs a BIG recharge after all that searching, and the reader is just the thing they need. Expect a lot of hugs and a bunch of boundaries to get broken within that first month or so. They're never letting go, not ever again.

Tldr: Reader is still fucked either way, but it does take the Batfam significantly more time to find them, and when they do the family is basically mentally fucked over. All screws scattered on the floor- everything. So they're a little less lenient and immediately jump the gun, just that much closer to completely losing their mind, and so despite being so far away — the Reader is immediately brought back to Gotham once found, has basically all of their rights stripped away from them, and is suffocated in affections, hugs, cuddles, and the like for over a month into their captivity as a result. No exceptions. Not anymore.

Hope this answered your question! If anyone else has a question, or you yourself have something else you'd like to know the answer to, feel free to send in an ask! If you'd also like me to clarify something or anything like that, an ask is the way to go a well!

[murderluv23]

Something I will say about this episode that gave me off vibes is Ozzie's remark about Fizzarolli going outside.

The expression on Fizz's face just??? Made me uncomfortable?? He's obviously guilty about giving Ozzie trouble and worrying him sick by getting kidnapped and beaten- but I feel like it's deeper than that. Fizzarolli doesn't look relieved or like he's feeling protected. It's more like- coddled. Which makes perfect sense. Ozzie may not be trying to be malicious or controlling but Fizzarolli is an adult.

At the very start of the episode, even, Fizz is trying to just be able to go out for a simple stroll without Ozzie nagging him about being careful or trusting him to take care of himself. Fizz may not be the best fighter but he isn't helpless. And he isn't a child. Fizz can sure be reckless but he isn't stupid, either.

I understand Ozzie's want for Fizz to be safe and how him being a celebrity will always attract creeps but keeping him inside is extreme. Even if Ozzie suggested having security he can go out with, that....has to be suffocating. I feel like Fizz was half joking. He hated being outside because it got him in trouble. But I highly doubt he meant he wanted nothing to do with being able to leave the palace for fun or venturing out to try to do things for and by himself.

I don't know, I just feel like Ozzie's overprotectiveness could be a huge detriment to Fizz and really unhealthy if pushed too far. I mean, look, Fizz couldn't handle himself against kidnappers because he is so used to everything being done for him. That's proof right there he has some stunted growth that could've happened if he wasn't so protected all the time. Accidents happen. And Fizzarolli could be separated from his guards. Or like here, not with Ozzie. What then? Having some self defense experience would work wonders. Keeping him in further is not the solution.

I think Fizz really is craving a bit more outside what his life is like and was hoping Ozzie would scold him for wanting to stay inside. But instead he affirmed him to not go anywhere. That just- really makes me tense up.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move. 

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever. 

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes. 

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells? 

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes. 

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum. 

Or survival instincts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . . 

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion. 

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still. 

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.” 

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person. 

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem. 

A serious problem. 

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?” 

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head. 

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?” 

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was. 

Flattering, but incredibly obvious. 

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.” 

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.” 

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves. 

Or a lot harder, sometimes. 

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . . 

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes. 

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside. 

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe? 

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone. 

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now. 

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.” 

Red Hood laughs. 

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!” 

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes? 

She spent way too long in Amity, yes. 

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake. 

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . . 

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . . 

Then again, her life is her life. 

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now. 

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.” 

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?” 

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling. 

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that. 

Hm. 

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies. 

Well, so is Amity Park, of course. 

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not. 

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances. 

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved. 

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells. 

Definitely inappropriate. 

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says. 

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means. 

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly. 

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.” 

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it. 

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment. 

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering. 

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?” 

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows. 

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . . 

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . . 

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.” 

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because. 

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way. 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

[igotanidea]

Tease: Jason Todd x fem!reader

graphic credit goes to @stariver00 - <3

A/N: I can't even find the words to describe how relieved I am that I finally finished this one! :D

Summary: taking care of Jason's wounds and being a tease sounds so innocent. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!! dumbifications, oral (fem receiving), my poor medical knowledge, mentions of wounds, teasing and bickering, a bit of rough play if you squint.

***

The view in front of her eyes was not she was expecting to see, however she should have seen that coming. After all it wasn’t the first time her boyfriend climbed up her window in the middle of the night, bloodied and wounded with a broken dog face expression, searching for a safe place where he could get back to shape. 

 “Patching.” he muttered sitting cross legged on the floor, with medical supplies splattered all over, his helmet and body armor discarded a few steps beyond. 

She knew the drill, they did this dance hundreds of times now. With a deep sigh Y/N threw her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes and moved to sit on the floor next to him reaching for the gauze he had in his hands and retrieving it swiftly.

“What kind of wound? Stab? Bullet? Punch? Hit?” she asked, immediately getting into this specific, factual tone, keeping her emotions at bay, focusing on the task of helping him out.

“Bullet” he muttered mimicking her pitch.

“Exit or…?”

“Entry.”

“But no exit?” her voice faltered only slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t even notice that subtle change, but Jason knew her for too long to let it slip. He was fully aware she was terrified of what was expected of her to do.

“It stayed in.” he muttered

“You really couldn’t let me have one good night, could you? “she sighed deeply reaching for the tweezers, disinfecting them, desperately trying to control her shaky hands and putting them inside his wound. “I’m not a freaking doctor you know!”

“Just get it out already!” he hissed in pain.

 “Stop squirming! It’s not helping!”

Jason clenched his jaw, wincing at every movement of the tweezers in his body but followed her orders, his fingers digging into his palms to prevent himself for hurting her in crazy fight or flight instinct.

“I got it….” She whispers finally pulling the bullet out and throwing it away, her heart beating frantically from the emotions yet her face blank and calm. It was crazy how they were both terrified and yet were dead set not to show it to the other to not amplify any of those negative feelings.

“Told you” he smirked

“Told me what exactly Todd? That you’re a selfish, reckless, stupid bastard who’s  gonna give me heart attack?. I’m not professional. I could have hurt you and yet I always take care of you…..”

“Told you a silly bullet wound won’t kill me.” Jason grinned and moved to lay on the couch. “Now, get those stiches and put them to use Y/N.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome….” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the needle and swiftly mending the damage done to his shoulder. “You’re lucky it didn’t shatter any bones, cause that would be way beyond my pay grade.”

“Yeah, whatever….” He muttered waiting patiently for her to be done and finish helping him by putting on a dressing, her soft, nimble fingers dancing on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Thanks doc.” He chuckled to diffuse the tension. It was weird that he got so many different sensations from her touch now. She did this so many times before and only now…. she shook his head not wanting to pursue that thought.

“Might as well use that title. Not of education by definitely from experience.” She hissed standing up, moving to kitchen and pouring herself a glass of wine “by the way, did you know that experiments on living organism are forbidden?”

‘You meant me?” he raised an eyebrow watching her sip her drink.

“Obviously.”

“And yet you always stich me up. Every. time.” Jason raised from the couch, moving to stand in front of her.

„What if one day I refuse?” she teased, swirling the wine and looking straight into his eyes, almost daring him to play back.

„I’ll take care of my wounds and you take care of your liver” Jason pulled the glass from her hand putting it up away from her reach, making her pout and stuck the tongue at him.

“You gotta die from something. I’d rather go down doing something fun not fighting on the streets of Gotham.”

“Not on my watch. You can drop patching me up, but you’re not drinking. You’re gonna sit with me and watch some Netflix instead.”

“Shall I remind you it’s still my apartment?”

“Ekhem…. Our apartment.” He corrected.

“Mhm… sure… I work and pay the bills and you bleed on the floor from time to time. You’re right, you marked this place quite literally.”

„No one here is getting drunk.” He said with a stern tone.

“I’m sorry? Do I look drunk?” she scoffs “that’s offending.”

“After a bottle of wine?”

“Who said anything about a bottle?” she brushed him off, but his gaze travelled to the open, almost empty bottle standing on the kitchen counter. “Yesterday’s?” she made an innocent face at him.

“That’s your third glass, Y/N.” there was no way to hide the evidence of crime now. Damn his vigilante instincts and  observational skills. Of course she could have kept the play going, but it was no point now.

“Yeah, maybe I have a reason to. And you’re the last person on earth who can preach me on recklessness.” she mutters, snatching the glass from his hand, putting it to the sink and plumping on the couch putting on some TV. 

“Bad day, huh?”

“More less so….” she switch through the channels finding nothing worth keeping an eye on, and finally setting on reruns of Friends, hoping this would cheer her up even if only a little.

 “Care to share?” Jason sat beside her, pulling her into his embrace, resting his head on hers. 

“I don’t think I want to talk now….” Y/N snuggled into his arms, enjoying the warmth coming from his body. “Hi…..” she murmured softly, a  bit calmer now. He was all right, he was safe and next to her, not bleeding, not dying, not hurting. 

“Hi yourself...”Jason smiled kissing her forehead and tightening the grip on her.

“You gave me a scare, you know.”

“Sorry baby…… But you’re better now, right?” his hand moved from her waist to her back, caressing softly in a calming manner.

‘yeah… I’m better….” She sighed, feeling the stress coming off her in waves. “you feel like home”

“that’s because I am your home, princess.”

“Yeah…. Yeah… you are….”

“And you’re mine….” He added, brushing her hair and cheek softly putting finger under her chin and making her look into his eyes. ”You understand that, don’t you? That you are mine and my everything.”

“I love you….” She whispered connecting their foreheads in an intimate gesture, hoping he’ll understand all those unspoken words dying in her throat and impossible to sound.

“I love you more.” He brushed his lips over hers briefly, only to ignite her nerves and make her break.

“I could argue on that.” Y/N chuckles softly in return.

“Oh really?” his eyebrows travelled up as he pulled back looking into her eyes with a slight smirk “Try me.”

“I. am. Infinitely falling for you.”  Her words were like a balm on his heart and soul making him feel like he finally found that one person he belonged to. Whatever she said to him, whenever and wherever, it never failed to set him on fire, make his nerves and his whole body burn with the passion he never knew before.

“Y/N……baby…..”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’ve won this competition……” Jason’s leaned forward, leaving inches of space between them.

“I’m gonna take my prize now.” she murmured capturing his lips in hers and immediately, out of instincts wrapping arms around his neck. She wanted, needed to feel him, just to make sure it was all real and he was really with her, not just a friction of her imagination.

Jason was with her…… Safe, loved, all for her, matching every movement of her lips with passion, pulling her on his lap, caressing her hair, touching her back and waist, doing it all at once.

"Take everything you want, love. I'm all yours."

“Mine……” a few tears fell down her cheeks when she snuggled even closer to his touch, never getting enough of it. Of him, of his love, of his affection and care. Even though those were the sign of happiness, not pain of hurt, he noticed those little droplets in an instant.

"Hey, no crying on my shoulder." He chuckled wiping them away. “I got you…. You’re safe with me….”

“I can't lose you.....” she whispered, her right hand travelling to his shoulder, tracing over the wound she patched up a few moments later. “Every time you go out there ….” Her voice broke.

„Hey…. Hey….baby look at me….” Jason grabbed her chin and forced her eyes up on him “you’re not losing me. I’m right here…..” he guided her hand to his heart, letting her feel his heartbeat “feel that?” she nodded “it beats only for you. You won’t lose me…I promise you.” He kissed her temple nuzzling nose in her hair.

“I love you Jay....”

"I love you too, honey." He replied, wrapping his arms around Y/N  tightly, like he was afraid she might disappear, keeping her in the safe, strong embrace, rocking back and forth slightly.

 “Does it hurt?” she asked her soft, quiet voice breaking through the silence of the apartment.

“What?” Jason asked, slightly confused by her question.

“The wound.”

"Oh... yeah, it stings a little." He replied, glancing at his bandaged shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

His eyes grew wide, tiniest blush creeping on his face. Even if it was barely visible in the dark room she knew him well enough to recognise when he got flustered.,

"Baby…..that's the best offer I've gotten all week." He grinned.

“That's not a yes though.”

“You’re taking the conscious consent to a completely new level, princess. Do you see me objecting?”

“Jason Todd…..” she warned with the slightest chuckle

“I could never say no to you, my pretty girl.” he pulled her closer “yes.”

That one little word was all she needed connecting their lips again, relinquishing in the taste of his lips, taste of him. When her mouth were busy showing her love moving all over his face, brushing his cheek, jaw and neck, her hands, simultaneously moved down to his chest, her nimble fingers tracing his skin, moving over each of his scars, reminder of his past. Of the part of his life where she wasn’t with him.

She did it so many times already, focusing on the stab wound on his thigh, tiniest dents in the rib area, multiple cuts on his chest, slashes on his arms, bullet wounds, burn wounds, all kinds of those.

So many intimate times and yet, every single one of them was so different from the other.

"You sure you wanna do this right now...? I'm all for it but I don't want you to get my blood all over you." He chuckled

„It's just a kiss Jason....” she teased, moving to kiss over the sensitive, freshly patched shoulder with her soft, warm lips, causing Goosebumps all over him and smiling at the effect of him not stopping her ministrations

“Y/N…..” he groaned, his head falling back slightly. “God…..” his grip on her tightened and he pulled her closer, his mind (and not only mind) running wild and completely out of his control.

  „Shhhh...”  she mumbled against his skin, keeping on her ministrations, smiling even more upon feeling his hand tangling in her hear pressing her closer to the wounded shoulder. “Let me take care of you….” Her hot breath brushed over his neck when she started nibbling there getting a few more groans of pleasure.

“Do you feel better, Jaybaby?”

“Uh…uh-huh….”  He gasped slightly still trying to keep his composure “don’t want you to stop…..”

“I’m not, my love…..” she nibbled on his neck, biting gently. “Mmmh…. You taste delicious…”

“Y/N…..” his hands found a way under her shirt, tugging at the material. “you’re a devil…..”

“No, Jace….”

“But Y/N....” he whined desperately “I want you… I want to kiss you, touch you, let me love you…..”

“You’re hurt, Jason….”

“So what? I still want to have you….”

“You can kiss me, but the clothes stays on.”

“You’re such a tease, turning me all hot and then denying!” he pouted “how unfair is that?!” he shivered at her words, but even though not giving up just yet.

“Yeah, I can feel how excited you got…” she smirks, shifting to sit on his lap, purposefully brushing over his hard on.

“Come on!” he cried out, burning at the sensation. Even if it was through material he could tell himself the rest, imagination and memories doing the job. “It’s torture! Pleeeeasseeee….”

“Hmmm.. on second thought….” She pulled back stopping the kissing.

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“You promised you won’t stop!” he grabbed her hip harder, making her squeal in surprise

“I did not!” she exclaimed “I hit pause.”

“Resume it now….” He warned, his voice hoarse, his body desperate for her. “Or else….”

“Or else what, honey? What will you possibly do?” he whispered in his ear, tangling fingers in his hair, tugging and scratching gently, her eyes full of desire and love and playfulness combined. “From what I see and it’s a nice view from the top….” Y/N smirked  “you’re at my mercy. How does that feel?”

“Terrible.” He pouted “I’m injured and need to be taken care of and my girlfriend is all cruel and heartless…..”

“Oh…. Am I really?” she pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lay on his back. “Is it really so terrible? How’s the view from down there?”

“covered….”

“Covered view?” she chuckled.

“Come on!!!”  he cried out, his impatient hands moving to her hips.

“Behave, Jason…..” she straddled his hips, laying on top of him, pinning his hands to the mattress, looking straight into his eyes, before moving to kiss down his chest.

“You’re playing with fire, princess….”

“Yeah, Kori has been giving me some … lessons. And let me tell you, that girl…. She’s really good. I mean she bedded Dick and all those tricks she showed me…..” she smirked, letting go of his hands and tracing over his scars, but unlike before this time it was far from sweet, gentle and innocent. This time, her single purpose was to spur him on, tease him, make him burn at her touch and at the single feeling  of her body on his.

“I hate you…..” he groaned

“We both know….” She brushed over his crotch “It’s not true.”

“Enough!” he yelled and before she could do as much as let out a single cry he pinned her to the mattress, kissing her with urgency and desire, not stopping to take a break, a breath, nothing. Now he was claiming her, her body, her soul, her mind. She wanted teasing, she should have known it comes with the price and Jason was not going to give up something that was rightfully his.

“Jason!” she moaned, but he was not going to stop for the world, tearing her shirt open, sending the buttons flying all over the room, sucking her skin up, biting, licking and kissing all over her stomach, finally, finally being able to teach her a lesson.

“You brought this on yourself….” He hissed, his mind too consumed by lust to even hear her crying out his name. “you brought this on yourself, princess”.

He was so fucking hungry, starved, deprived of her body, her skin, the taste of her. And his little, pathetic, helpless girlfriend really thought she could keep him on leash.

“poor little stupid girl….” he muttered, scratching her waist and moving hands up, cupping her clothed chest, feeling her body arch and squirm underneath him “I’m not your pet, baby….” He pulled the material of the bra away, revealing her right  breast and smirking vindictively at the view of her pebbled nipple. “You planned this, didn’t you?” he muttered, brushing thumb over the sensitive part eliciting a moan and desperate cry of pleasure

“please…..” she begged

“not so nice when you’re the one pleading, is it?” he chuckled cruelly, taking it in his mouth and sucking for a second.

“Jay…..!” she grabbed his head, wanting more, more, more……

“Oh no, princess….” He pulled back, her half exposed, reddened chest abused and neglected “It’s not gonna be that easy…” his eyes glistened in the dark room. In that moment he looked less like a Jason Todd and way more like a Red Hood. Like a predator looking at the helpless prey, baring his teeth and sharpening his claws, getting ready to pounce mercilessly, getting his payback and whatever else he wanted.

“shit….!” She squealedwondering how was it possible that she went from patching him up and getting all scared of hurting him, through absolutely innocent teasing to ending up pinned to the bed in the form of desperate mess, strangely turned on by his fury.

“Yeah, princess…shit, indeed….” Jason repeated, scratching the skin just above the hem of her jeans, one fingers diving down, grabbing the elastic of her panties pulling it up just to let it go and make it snap her skin with a sting.

“Ah..!”  she gasped

“Such a naughty, little stupid ungrateful brat….” He climbed on top of her, kissing up her stomach, her chest, her neck, jaw, cheek in a crazy pace, not allowing her to enjoy it, stopping at her lips. “I’ll make you beg for me. How about that? How do you like switching places…..” his mouth hung a few inches above hers, his thumb pressing at her bottom lip, forcing her to open those pretty mouth he was imagining somewhere else doing something different. “How about that, princess?” he asked again, his breath enveloping her face, clouding her senses, causing her to close her eyes. “Answer me, baby or might have to punish you….”

“Jason….” She moaned, not sure if she was enjoying this side of him or not. It was the first time in their relationship when he pushed him so far to actually make him this… vicious… this dominant.

“Answer me, princess…..” he muttered, grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head “How do you like that?” he bit her neck. Once, twice, three times, each time harder than before.

“I…..ah… shit… Jace….!” At this point she knew – she was definitely enjoying him like this.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“You’re so mean to me….” she moaned at another bite, this time on her shoulder.

“And yet….” One of his hands left her wrist, travelling down her body, tracing over each of her curved and digging inside her pants, moving the material of the panties away “you’re so wet…..” he whispered into her ear “what were you thinking, beautiful? What sort of crazy fantasies are there in your head, little one? Do you wish me to touch you….?” his finger brushed over hersensitive, swollen clit. “you want me touch you like that?”

“Yes,….shit… yes, yes…..” poor Y/N thought she was a begging mess before but Jason was clearly just beginning to have his fun with her. “please…..” she struggled against his grip.

“funny how the tables turned, isn’t it?” he muttered, nuzzling nose into her neck.

“Todd…..” she tried her best to make her voice stern and serious, but it came as desperate and whiny.

“Yeah, baby….? Is there something you want?” he asked calmly, his tone a contract to the way he was rubbing her clit faster and more intensely, enjoying the sounds coming from her mouth, becoming less human by a second turning into a desperate wail of tortured animal.

“please, please… please….!” Her hips buckled off the bed, her body begging for more.

“Nah…. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, love.” He retrieved his hand from her pants.

“Jason….!” She looked into his eyes, her gaze broken, hair a mess, lips chapped, cheeks reddened.

“God, your such a mess…..” Jason smirked, but the way she was looking at him with so much love, trust and vulnerability got him crumbling a bit. “Beg for me…..”

“I need you….” She whimpered “I need you, only you, just you. Please……?”

“Y/N…… my love……. You were a brat……. Admit it now…..” her voice, her eyes, her whispering, her begging…. He was slipping back into her, getting lost in her. He enjoyed having her under his control, but it was never his intention to push her further than she could take. Y/N had a little less experience than him and Jason was just trying to show her different way of things.  To educate her, if you may.

But.

No matter how much he tried to dominate her, to punish and take what he wanted he just…. couldn’t.

He couldn’t be forceful on Y/N. His love, his one and only, his sweet, pretty girl. He wanted to protect her, love her, cherish her. Give her all the sweet loving she was missing through her entire life. Never hurt her. Never.

Unless she asked him too.

Spicing things up was good sometimes, but the tears in her eyes told him clearly enough she was on the verge. And Jason was not going to make her break and burst out crying during sex. Not with him. Not on his watch.

Never.

“Y/N…… baby…..” he let go of both of her wrists, reddened and swollen from the tight grip. “I love you….. I love you…..”

“I love you too, Jace,…. Please… please…..”

“Shhhh…. “ he caressed her head kissing her softly, reassuringly “I got you baby…. I got you… I’ll take care of you… Just promise….” He bit on her bottom lip “promise you won’t tease me again…..”

“Promise….” She whimpered, wrapping arms around his back, scratching his shoulder blades, dragging her nails down his body.

“I’m gonna pretend I believe you……” Jason whispered, too lost in his craving to say anything else and to control himself anymore.

It only took him a second to unclasp her bra, exposing her breast fully, licking, sucking, grazing his teeth over it, letting himself enjoy her hands in his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching, but not stopping there. His mouth moved lower, swiftly and capably sliding her jeans down, removing her soaked panties, spreading her legs and licking his lips at the view.

“Y/N……” his tongue moved to the place where she needed him ‘mmhmh… god….my favourite meal of the day…….”

“No…..” she whispered, pulling him back up by his healthy shoulder.

“what do you mean no?” he kept on lapping and sucking, swirling his tongue “your words don’t match your body movements….”

“I need you….”

“You have me baby…..” he licked all the way from her slit to clit making her moan and squirm again, more desperately than ever before “can’t stop me now…..”

“I want you….ah… ah…” her voice became desperate when those long, thick fingers complemented tongue movements, pumping in and out, doing it with ease with the amount of juices she already produces for him. “I want you… in….in…fuck…!”

“Inside?” he smirked, picking up the pace, knowing exactly what she was begging for.  She nodded her body tensing and sweating like crazy. Yes, she wanted him inside but with the way he was making her feel at the moment, bringing her closer and closer to release, she was slowly starting to not give a fuck how he would make her come. The only thing she cared about was to come at all, fingers, tongue, dick, whatever. And she was silently praying he wouldn’t fall back into that sadistic attitude and keep on edging her endlessly.

“Jace…. “ she spread her legs wider, opening herself to him fully, her body acting on its own.

He looked up from between her legs, his gaze hazy, desperate, filled with so much lust, passion and craving it made her shudder. In this state he was definitely notgoing to edge her and they both knew it. Their eyes met only for a second before he got back to eating her up in that way only he knew how, fast, hard, hitting all the right places in the perfect pace.

“Yes….!” She cried out, when her climax started to build, his fingers digging into her hips causing pain and pleasure and confirming her belief she would sport bruises next day. “Yes… yes…!” she moaned more and more, grabbing his hands and putting them on her breasts again, allowing him to touch,  squeeze, scratch and twist the flesh to his liking. “Yes….Jason…!”

He groaned and his voice reverberated through her whole body, making her scream his name , her body arching, hips moving off her bed as she was practically fucking herself on his face. Greedy, selfish little girl, craving the pleasure, the release, being so close, so fucking close she could almost touch it.

“Yes…. Yes… yes….!” Jason heard her sounds in the very core of his soul and body, picking up the pace more and more and more and more, not stopping. He could suffocate like this, die like this if it meant tasting her for the last time in his life. He grabbed her breast harder, digging his tongue deeper. It was not about her anymore, it was about satiating his hunger, his craving, his desire.

And then….

It felt like someone turned off the world that stopped existing.

It was only him.

And her.

Nothing more.

Her brain shut down when she came as intensely as never before, squirting hard, body tensing, releasing, bursting into sweat, shivering and shaking in no more than ten seconds. Oh, he prepped her so good and apparently a bit of roughness only added to the pleasure and the sensation.

“Jason…..” she breathed out heavily, her eyes closed as she tried to reach for his face blindly.

“I’m here, baby….” His voice came somewhere from above her, but before she could open her eyes and look at him, Jason pressed his lips to her, helping her to calm down and come back to reality, but also allowing her to taste herself. “I got you…. I got you, princess. It’s okay.. You’re safe. You’re mine, I’m here.”

“Mhmhm…..”was all she could reply, too lost in the sensation.

“How you feel?” he asked softly, pulling her to him, holding and caressing her back. He was going to clean her up in a second but for now she needed cuddles. She needed his warm embrace. And he was going to shower her with the aftercare. “I wasn’t too rough right?”

“At first.. maybe a little…..” she sighed, finally opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. His chin was glistening. “but it was worth it….” She smiled, wiping her own juices from his face “apparently….” They both chuckled.

“Do you remember what you promised me, though?” Jason smirked pulling her closer and ruffling her hair affectionately.

“are you serious?” she snickered “I’ve just barely recollected my last name! Of course I don’t remember what I said while being desperate for you!”

“Desperate, huh?” he raised an eyebrow. “Can you repeat that so I can record for my spank bank? Y/N Y/L/N was desperate for me….”

“Shut up!” she blushed punching his healthy arm.

“Make me, princess.” Jason grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes. “You promised not to tease me, let me refresh your memory.”

“Did I really?” she frowned

“Yeah, really…..”

“What if I crossed my fingers?” she sat on the bed, wriggling out of his embrace, looking down at him with a smirk, her naked body so close to his. “What if I lied?”

“then we need another lesson to eradicate that terrible habit of yours….” he grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him “I’m not in a hurry and that means you’re not going anywhere….” He bit her lip, his eyes glistening with the same greedy glow as before.    

Round two.

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

final girl | coriolanus snow

pairing: ghostface!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you've become a target, the final girl of a killer's movie.

warnings: dark content, possessive!coryo, dark!coryo, obsession/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes(if you squint), stalking, murder, blood and gore, coryo being delusional, threats of violence, violence, sort of modern!au, no use of y/n, naive!reader, r is too kind.

It was october, not only that but there was a killer on the loose. You were by yourself, much to your parent’s annoyance. You told them,”I’m 18 Mom. I technically could be on my own. Please, let me be on my own. I’ll be fine. I’ve got friends who can help me. And 911 on the phone.”

Your mother sighed. "The capitol’s safe enough. Fine. But if anything happens-” “Protocol, I know, I know all the rules, You replied. You did. Normally, your parents weren't like this. But there was a killer. A fucking killer. Of course they'd be worried for their only child.

You were also the heir to wealthy parents and known in the capitol. Your parents were. If there would be a target, you might be on that list. Either way, you were going to be as safe as you could be.

. You place yourself on the couch. The staff, which included the maids, were on their day-offs today, which was unfortunate for you. Tonight, would be different, though, you had no idea.

Clemensia, your best friend, texted you.

Home alone?

You replied almost right away.

Yeah. It took convincing, though. My parents are kind of protective.

You knew she was sighing and rolling her eyes at your comment. Clemensia was logical, so were you. The both of you were, but sometimes you could be reckless. Her, too, but not tonight apparently.

For good reason. I mean, there's a killer out there.

You wanted to just watch a movie, something that was a form of entertainment in the Capitol, obviously. You decide a horror movie was too gruesome for a time like this, and were planning to watch a rom-com. A surprise, considering you loved horror movies.

Yeah. I feel too... scared to watch a scary movie. That's how bad this is getting.

That was the truth, you were utterly terrified. Terrified to even watch scary movies, as if it'd become true. You check your phone. Updates in the group chat continue.

Your friend, Coriolanus, was discussing the killer. But also said that everyone should be careful. It was a known fact he liked you, but you were oblivious.

You were always so naïve.

They say he calls his victims before he kills them. I hope that's not true. I mean, what if he gets one of us?

The latest kills were students at the school, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson. This was tragic, and they didn't deserve it. They really didn't. And it made you wonder, why?

Why?

Clemensia was texting you and then calls. “Hey Clemmie, You say. “Hey! She replied. She sounded a little better but still, she was probably terrified just like you. "You okay, Clemmie, why did you call? You ask her, naturally. "Clemmie" was a nickname given in your childhood. You had a friend group that all had your own nicknames, including you. "I don't know, I don't think I'd like to be by myself, She admitted.

"That's fair, You agreed."I don't think... Hold on. I'm getting another call. Can I be right back on that?" "Mhm, it's not your fault, Clemensia said.

You end that call, and while the number was not one you'd recognize, sometimes you don't put in numbers on accident, or change the name. It happens. "Hello? You say, kindly. No matter who called, you tried to be as polite as you could be. 

"Hello."

Already, you know this is a stranger. For one thing, the voice isn't one yo recognize, secondly, the number wasn't in your contacts. So it wasn't one you accidentally kept the number on. Unless this was a prank. 

"Sorry I have to ask, who is this?"

"Who is this?"

"I already asked that. What number are you trying to reach?"

"I don't know, what number is this?"

You chuckle. "You called me, shouldn't you know?"

"I guess not."

In your mind, you conclude that this must be a wrong number. It wasn't his fault, so you weren't going to be annoyed by it. They seemed to be confused. "Wrong number, it's not your fault, it happens." You hang it up, and it was eerily similar to the beginning of Scream. You brushed it off, and planned to call Clemensia back, when the number called again.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number."  

"Oh, then why did you call again?"

"To apologize."

"Well, I forgive you, so-"

"Wait, can we talk?"

You sigh. "I'd love to. But i've got a phone call to do, bye, buddy." You hang up again. You innocently think of this as some joke. So, entertaining the prankster wouldn't be too bad for you. 

However, you needed to call Clemensia back, ASAP. As you were about to tap her name to call, the prankster called again. However, you weren't going to be mad or annoyed, you were that good of a person.

Maybe naïve for your own good, but kind nonetheless. 

"Hello?"

"Why don't you want to talk to me?" 

"Oh, hi, um... I just don't know you at all. Sorry."

"You seem very sweet and understanding."

"I try to be. You never know. What's your name?"

"You tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."

You place a piece of popcorn in my mouth, my soda beside me by the movie." As much as it'd be nice to make another friend, you'd have to earn that." A while ago, you texted your boyfriend to come over. Where was he? Your parents were gone. This was your chance to finally get intimate tonight. Still, no response. You texted him a couple of times. You frown. Is he cheating on me? You thought.

"What are you eating?"

"Popcorn, You immediately reply. "I'm watching a movie."

"What movie?"

"A rom-com, I can't bring myself to watch a horror movie."

"Rom-coms are cheesy, I think horror movies are incredible."

"Ah, a horror nerd, You joke. "Well, I normally think so, too. But, it's just... whatever."

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

You smile. "I guess I'd say, Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It's interesting."

"A good choice. It's brutal."

You check your phone a couple of times, still on the call, your boyfriend messaged once. He was on his way, and apologized for not being there. You accepted it, he was a good boyfriend, and was normally on time or responded, he was perfect. So, you forgave him immediately. 

"So, you've got a boyfriend?"

His voice was flirty, and suggestive, even. But you weren't flattered or anything. You loved your boyfriend. "Mhm, You say."So, I'm not interested. We're happy together."

"Ah, lovebirds. How cute."

His voice was sarcastic. However, you still tried to remain kind. You didn't say anything as a response though. 

"You never said your name."

"Why do you want my name?"

"Because I want to know who I'm looking at."

You freeze. "What did you say?"

"I want to know who I'm talking to.""

You shake your head."No. That's not what I heard." Panicked, you text your boyfriend and Clemensia. Someone was watching you."I'm hanging up."

"Why would you do that, Doll?"

"I... I just have to go."

"Don't hang up."

You text your boyfriend once more, hoping he'd come quick. Instead, however, you got a disturbing response.

Don't hang up on me. It won't end well for you.

You lock every door in your house, this creep wouldn't come in your house. But you also weren't ignoring his calls anymore certainly. He calls again, and you pick up. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk, doll."

"No, clearly not. Otherwise-"

"You've caught me. I want to play a game. Like I played with your boyfriend."

"What did you do with him?"

"Go check for yourself."

You whimper, stepping towards the back of your large home. You had a feeling it'd be in your backyard, the answer you were looking for. When you turn on the lights, You scream. Your phone drops, but thankfully doesn't break. Your boyfriend, was hung and gutted in your tree, bloody and all. You began to sob, shakily picking your phone up. "Please, why did you kill him?"

"You belong to me, doll. You're mine. I won't let anyone take you from me."

In that moment, a figure with a ghostly mask bursts in, grabbing you from behind, hands on your waist as you begin to fight, what was he going to do? Take you? You kick, your elbow kicking his rips, and a groan came out from him. You run. You held your phone, call ended. You take this chance and call 911. 

Ghostface gets up, and mid call, is fast and you dropped your phone. You yelp, trying everything in your power.You’re thrown onto the floor and now he’s on top of you, knife in hand was clean but probably washed off the blood after murdering your boyfriend.

what was he going to do with you?

He must be contemplating what he was planning to do. Your legs were stuck, so you couldn’t kick him. He tilts his head. His knife trails down your body, suggestively but also mocking you, it's between your breasts, and then you grab his wrist, trying to pry him off of you. But he's stronger. He says,"Be a good girl and I won't hurt you." He must mean death, so you nod, still crying. The police would come. 

You must've hit the floor hard, because your vision was foggy, and you were close to passing out. If this was death, you were ready. But you had no injuries. You clearly were just going unconscious. You use your free arm to take his mask off.

Your eyes widen."Coryo?" You barely see the grin on his face before you black out.

[hotchfiles]

delivered a crime.

pairing: remus x fem!reader.

summary: once a month remus needs to be patched up. that times 15 equals how many times he has to patch you up monthly.

content warnings: fluff, mentions of violence, condoning of violence, cuss words.

word count: 1,3k

      "Ouch ouch ouchhhh—" you wince scrunching your face hard, almost moving it altogether if it wasn't for Remus' strong grip on your chin as he cleans your bloody nose. "Remmyyyy, it hurts." You pout and he only shakes his head, chuckling through his nose.

      "D'whine like this when you punched her first?"

      You frown dramatically, he knew too well of your antics, too good of a boyfriend, you would get into some fight, like some super hero, no pain, no tears, and then would transform into a cry baby when he was patching you up simply because you loved being taken care of by him. And by him only, obviously, not a side of you that was shown to anyone else.

      "Nop, but that cocksucker sure did." You try to smirk while you reply, but his grip on your face makes it almost impossible too, still your shoulders move a bit as you laugh.

      "Language, lady." He doesn't really care for that, but Remus finds it endlessly amusing how far back you can roll your eyes when he teases you about it, specially because your mouth was always particularly dirty after a fight, still riled up from the adrenaline. He let your chin go and lightly pushed your cheek, turning your face around so he could clean a bruise near your scalp. "She smacked your head into a wall or something?"

      "Ground actually." Remus tries, he really does try not to be amused, he doesn't want to enable this behavior, it's not safe, it's not right.

      And he worries so much about you, he does. But how can he not laugh when you're in front of him, all bruised, bloodied up, and still look so beautiful and so charming and talking about it so nonchalantly? Not a single worry behind those eyes, only recklessness.

      He's almost jealous. He plants a kiss beside the injury, glad it wasn't deep and it wouldn't need any stitches this time.

      In a very sick sick sick way, this always calms him down, it makes him feel more normal. Once a month it's the other way around, it's you going through his body for cuts and cleaning the blood and checking if he would absolutely need Pomfrey this time (after a while it gets tiring being in a hospital bed). Some couples learn to paint, or to knit, for you two it was first aid. First aid was Remus' and yours thing.

      Remus takes both your hands with his carefully, looking to see which one was worse, your dominant one of course, he let the other go and kissed your knuckles, you tried not to but you still flinch, those were bad, you ended up hitting the ground a couple of times while you aimed for the Hufflepuff's chin. At least it bloody broke, along with her nose and a least three teeth.

      "Love, y'know so many jinxes, why, why always your pretty fists?" He always asks, he hopes anytime soon you will give him a different answer, but you don't.

      "I'm not a bloody coward, Rem." James and Sirius are never happy when they hear you talk like that, they were avid users of jinxes as prank devices, and... Problem solving devices.

      You told Remus you believed violence to be more effective, he knew, or hoped, you felt it was easier to truly hurt someone with no way back with magic.

      He bandaged the first hand thinly, so you could still move it with a bit of freedom and went to clean the other one.

      "Why this time?" You stayed quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet. Remus hated when you were quiet. You were not a quiet person, if you were quiet it meant you were in trouble. You were already being patched up so how worse could it be? "Darling, why?"

      "Dunno, quidditch stuff."

      You don't play quidditch. You close your eyes immediately as the terrible terrible lie leaves your lips. Quidditch? Where did that even come from? You so didn't want to tell him the real reason.

      Remus didn't like you getting hurt, he specially didn't like you getting hurt because of him, that was even the only reason Sirius kept you from punching Severus months before, if he knows I was here and I let you start this I'm fuckin' dead.

      But you couldn't help it, he's your beautiful, caring boyfriend, who reads you to sleep, who shares cigs with you even when he says he's trying to stop, he patches you up after fights, and he gets you coffee even when he's drinking tea. He opens his coat so you can hug him and snuggle inside of it when it's snowy, and he asks you to stay up late with him studying even if you're gonna fall asleep on his lap because the sound of your breathing helps him focus.

      How, just how are you going to let anyone say anything about him?

      He doesn't tell you off on your blatant lie instantly, finishing up the bandage on your hand.

      He sighs deeply and you know you did not get away with it, his right index finger goes to your chin and he uses it to push it softly so you're looking directly into his beautiful, worried, sincere eyes. "Why?"

      "She had it bloody coming a'ight—fourth year prick, too old to be blabbing about shit she knows fuckall about." Remus doesn't respond, because you haven't either, you're stalling, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and gives you the courtesy of ignoring the fact the girl was three years younger than you. You try to fidget with your fingers but the bandages stop you, so you shrug and give him what he wants, "she was saying shit about your scars, thought she needed sum' of her own."

      For him, for his sake. His hands drop to his waist and he looks at you shaking his head, but his heart is warm and he hopes his cheeks aren't.

      Sure, he could be sad, offended, about some kids being idiots about his appearance, and truthfully, if he was younger, he would. Remus didn't care about it much anymore, and how could he, when he pulled one of the most gorgeous girls he could ever dream of and you were smart, talented and could even easily destroy him with your fists if you wanted to.

      And there you were, all fucked up because you couldn't accept people talking about him. It was too endearing, and he shouldn't enable it, he knows it, his mind is yelling him not to, but his hands are pulling you to him for the tightest hug he's ever given you. "You gonna get scarred too, you—" He doesn't even have the mind to remember any cuss words to start any banter, really, "beautiful, little, crazy, thing." He kisses your neck countless times, his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

      "Don' care, wear mine with honour." Your voice is muffled, your mouth too close to his chest, you pull away just enough to look up to him, your hands flat to his body, "as should you."

      He leans in, closing the distance between you both once more, now with with a chaste kiss, that even so tastes like iron, and stings like a bitch.

      "I love you, deeply, terribly. Please, please, don't do this again... Goddamn loony—Oh no."

      You widen your eyes instantly, but you both laugh, glad that neither James nor Sirius are nearby. If any one of them heard him slip up like that and use that word, of all the ones he could have... The two of you would never hear the end of it.

      But that was truly it. Moony was completely, head over heels, too far gone, heels over head, intensely in love... With a total loony.

      He was enjoying every minute of it, though, even right now, the tight hug, the blood tasting kisses, and the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

      And he was. As you were his.