#and lets himself heal from the trauma he's experienced

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

[makuzume]

Toge Accidentally Uses His Cursed Speech on You (Part 1 & 2; SMAU + FIC)

🔅Content: angst; injury; s2 spoilers; gn! reader; implied relationship; mentions of death (civilians); slight cursing; Shibuya trauma

🔅Synopsis: After the events of the Shibuya Incident, you haven't heard from Toge ever since. You decided to go to him but the both of you get into an arguement and out of frustration... he spoke.

🔅a/n: for the sake of convenience, Part 1 and Part 2 has been merged together to make it easier to navigate.

[JJK Masterlist] [Part 3]

🔅PART 1🔅

🔅PART 2🔅

🔅Word Count: 3.3K

....

You jumped off of the stone wall, attempting to gently land over some of bushes, trying your best to make the shock mostly be absorbed by your healed leg. However, the pouring rain caused the soil beneathe you to turn into wet mud, making you lose your balance and immediately slip upon landing.

"Argh..." You slightly winced, hurt as your whole body fell further into the ground, failing to protect your broken leg from receiving zero pain.

'I deserved that' you thought to yourself. Afterall, there was no one else to blame this accident on other than you.

You, who came here on your own accord, jumping over a wall no one told you to, who else would have been responsible? 'Maybe Toge, if only he had sent just one text message explaining himself', you thought to yourself in your defense, mentally rolling your eyes in frustration. But still, you honestly can't bring yourself to blame him, afterall, you figured he's been going through so much right now.

Fortunately, despite your late arrival in the night, Toge happened to be awake at this hour and had heard the ruckus you were making.

From the window, he saw your failed attempt at a perfect landing, and without a second thought, he quickly stood up and put on his robe, immediately hurrying to tie the knot closed, rushing to get himself covered before coming outside to help you.

Instinctively, he went to reach for both strings of the robe on each side, but it was only when he couldn't feel the soft, towel-like strips of one of fabrics on the left side did a sudden realization hit him:

His arm. He only had one arm now.

It was another instance for him to be reminded that he had lost a part of his body: a horrible mark of the events in Shibuya, a memory of all the lives he wasn't able to save, a reminder of all the friends he had failed to protect....

A sickening darkness grew at the pit of his stomach once more as he recalled all those horrible memories.... it was the same awful feeling he'd been experiencing these past few days while he was all alone, trapped in his room, and never even having a second's worth of peace.

Shaking his head, he pushed away those thoughts for the time being and just let the robe loosly hang over him, his only remaining arm going inside one of the sleeves.

Toge was still not used to how to maneauver his body right now, so much so that he still has to even remind himself from time to time about the new state of his physical appearance.

He hurried out of his room and into the garden, little splashes from the puddles staining his legs on the way. When he reached you, you open your eyes, taking your attention off of the pain you felt in your leg to find Toge hovering over you.

Surprised you were when you first laid eyes on him. He was wearing his robe open to you, allowing it to show all the dark bruises, scars, and thick bandages covering his bare upper torso. It was a painful sight to see, causing you to frown slightly.

Other than the appearance of his physical condition- he looked awful, emotionally. The bags under his eyes becoming evidence for his lack of sleep while his pupils showed a loss of light in them. His expression was exhausted, and his aura was different- not like the usual playful and relaxed Toge you once knew.

Seeing him as he stood in front of you now.... it felt like he was a different person, and you were taken aback for a moment because of it.

"...Mustard leaf?" His voice was dry and his tone was low- more empty of life.... but he still somehow manage to speak with just a bit of genuine concern as his eyebrows expressed slight hints of sadness and worry.

His form slowly crouched down, mildly struggling to bend himself from all the injuries he had on his side. Regardless lf the pain, he did it anyway in order to help you.

Using his only arm and his body as a support for you, he helped you stand up. You were able to feel him struggle slightly, Toge's body slightly more unsteady and frail as the both of you walked- His breath quietly quivering with each step, and he would take a sharp inhale of air every time you leaned just a little too much on him as he helped carry you over to the nearest gazeebo.

You felt bad for making him lift you... for making him become drenched along with you.

Regardless, even if you refused, no way would Toge leave you alone in the rain, all sad and pitiful. And you knew that. Because that's just the kind of person he was.

Despite the fact that he had been ignoring you for days, his actions now had served as a reminder that he did in fact still cared about you, you took note.

Yes, there had been a bit of akward tension with the current situation the both of you were in, but he would never even dare of becoming so uncaring and hurt your feelings to do anything like that

...right?

Toge was trying to carefully set your body down on one of the benches, mildly challenged as he did so while keeping his gaze low.

Perhaps he was embarassed that he's not used to maneuvering around with a missing arm just yet, or he's embarassed at the fact you came all this way and somehow endded up getting hurt just because he never replied to you.

You felt small stinging sensations underneathe your cast as you were as you gently settle on your seat, slighthly gripping your fist to hold back the pain you felt in your right leg.

You spoke up, a bit embarassed "... sorry... for making you come out like this..." A quiet moment passed before he responded by shaking his head gently, lightly waving off his hand as he gestured a polite 'don't mind it'.

It was silent, only the sounds emitting any noise being the rain hitting the soil and the droplets trippling against the roof above you.

"Salmon roe." Softly, he spoke, and you slowly drove your gaze towards him, his eyes looking at you rather seriously. With slow movements, he gently gestured towards the house, then towards the garage, then at you. Your eyes furrow at the action, understanding what he wanted to comunicate despite lacking the use of words.

"...No, I don't want to be taken back to the school after a shower." You said quietly, a slightly stubborn attitude taking over as you look away in disagreement. But this wasn't a good time to argue. He absolutely wasn't in the mood to bicker and wanted to get away from anything and everything stressful adding to his plate.

He gestured again to the house, then at the garage but a bit more sternly, to which you reply a cold hard refusal.

"...No." in an equally stern attitude, you stated, a slight glimpse of sorrow seeping through your voice as you look down "....I'm not going."

Toge showed hints of frustration, his expression a bit more irritated but also trying his best to retain his composure towards you, but his emotions were beginning to get the best of him once more.

It wasn't like Toge at all: Toge who was always so patient and calm... what exactly changed him since Shibuya? One can't help but wonder what were all the things a person had seen to make him act so different.

"Toge. Look at you. You were already gone for DAYS and not talking to ANYBODY" You gestured towards his body then at his face worriedly "You're thinner and lost the hope you had in your eyes... what happened to you..? What did you see...?" You spoke with worry. "it's scary to think what else you're going through while you coop yourself up in that room by yourself...."

He remained quiet, understanding where you're coming from.

It did make him feel a bit bad, suddenly leaving everyone to find out for themselves what was happening to him. But he figured that everyone was probably having their own mental breakdowns during this time as well, so maybe they need some time to process it too-... or that's what he wanted to believe the case to be.

In truth, he just wanted to rot and suffocate in his own suffering alone.

You were his best possible source of comfort, and he never even given himself the choice to be consoled by you. In fact, you were the last person he wanted to be with right now.

He didn't deserve your affectionate gazes, your gentle touches, your soft voice, your reassuring words... he knew you would be the gateway to end his suffering... but that's the thing, he refused this comfort willingly, he doesn't want this depressing feeling to end.

Toge let himself sulk in his own misery, torturing himself. All because he believes he deserves it.

"Toge, I know it's just horrible, everything. It's absolute bullshit.. But I hope staying quiet here for days had given you the time you needed to be by yourself.... staying alone in your room any longer might do more damage to you than you think."

You were right, he thought. But it didn't matter to him.

He wanted to drown in suffering, drown in guilt, hoping one day he may never wake up from it.

But that would mean escaping his own sins- so he always found himself needing to take back what he said mentally, remembering to endure the twisted thoughts seeping into his mind because he doesn't believe he shouldn't take the easy way out.

"Toge... I saw their bodies too... some of them, at least... When they took some of them back to the hospital... Our friends..." your voice spoke weakly, almost as if it was about to break as you lightly tremble.

You weren't there when it happened, and you felt bad about it. The most you could've done was helping in treating the survivors with your amateur use of Reversed Curse Technique while listening to their horrific experiences.

"... I can't unsee it... though... it made me think about you... I can't ever imagine what it must've been like for you in there." With a shakey breath, you whispered, trying to even comprehend the scenes he must've witness or the weight of responsibility Toge must be pinning on himself.

Suddenly, a wave of flashing images enter Toge's mind as if a slideshow started playing. The memories were accompanied by the same sinking and gut wretching feeling he had during that night, the same feeling he thought he was able to surpress well enough these past few days for it to never re-emerge again.

But he was wrong.

You lifted your head towards him, a knowing look and spoke with s worried tone. "Toge... whatever happened to the civilians in Shibuya was not your fault."

Your sudden choice of words had taken him aback.

'You heard what happened?' He first thought to himself, but then an immediate tightness was present in his chest and his breath had suddenly seemed to have gotten caught in his throat.

'That's wrong.'

'It was my fault.'

'I led them there.'

'All the civilian's deaths were because I led them there. All of them.'

He didn't want you to know, he prayed you wouldn't find out.

There was so much shame that he felt whenever he would remember that he was the cause for leading so many people to their deaths.

He felt so much shame that he couldn't even dare face you, which was another reason why he'd been pushing you away for days on end.

"...I can't imagine what you must've felt, but I know it was horrible." You said, speaking with such a pained and concerned voice.

You understood how this might've made Toge feel, and you knew he would be blaming himself for all the unpredictable deaths of those innocent lives that were caught up in Sukuna's attack... which is why you made the effort to be there for him.

"...n..."

His voice hitched quietly, his mind whispering for you to stop. His breathing got heavier as if the air suddenly thickened; His jaw lightly trembling as he remembered.

Everything else around him becoming mere background noise to him, his awareness to his surrounding fading. He couldn't think straight.

You noticed his sudden shift in behavior, his previous stoic and serious demeanor disappearing. His body was tensed and his expression afraid, terrified even.

"....s...to..."

It was barely audible, and all you could hear was a low and shakey grunt.

"What...?" Was all you could reply, unable to hear his quiet whispers.

"....n...o."

Once more, he silently whispered.

Concerned, you slowly began reaching for him, ever so gently touching his arm with the tips of your fingers to ease him, to ease his nerves, however, it only did quite the opposite.

At the moment, he only felt your touch, every other one of his senses drowning into nothigness. The moment your hand lightly glazed the skin of his arm, the memories suddenly flooded his mind. The deaths of civillians, his murdered allies, the transfigurations, the sorcerers getting killed... It was all too much for him. Too much.

Overwhelmed, he did the unthinkable. Suddenly...

"G..."

He spoke.

"..GET AWAY FROM ME" Toge yelled, quickly retracting his arm away from you by instinct.

With that being said, the curse fulfilled the command.

The next thing you knew, you felt yourself harshly sent flying from one end to the other, across the entire backyard of the clan's abode.

It didn't feel like it was just a gust of wind like you had imagined, no. It felt like suddenly being struck by a train at high speed or hitting the concrete after falling from a building the second the curse was activated.

Toge's eyes widened and immediately snapped towards your direction when he heard the sound of your voice screaming as you were thrown.

It didn't help that your instincts came at the worst possible time. In a pitiful attempt to lessen the impact of the fall, you allowed your body to make use of its training, instinctively posing the way you were always taught to land in while sparring with Maki and the others.

Though this time, you forgot to take into consideration the handicap you had at the moment, and unfortunately for you, your feet would need to be the first to hit the ground with the stance you thought could protect your body best.

It was a big mistake- The fall absorbed all the shock which injected itself onto your already broken leg.

You released a scream, but you still couldn't stop the landing just yet. As the force of the throw continued to push you forward, you end up rolling for a few more meters before abruptly hitting the stone wall on the other side of the yard. Your senses numbed for a moment and your vision blurred; Your mind was disoriented, but your heart was crushed.

It was fucked, your leg, that's what you were sure of. Not even your level of healing could save this one, bitterly you thought as you tried your best to use your reverse cursed technique to at least lessen the pain.

Shock overwhelmed Toge- it would've had him frozen in place but his insticts made him disregard all his negative thoughts and sprint towards you faster than he had the time to even register what had just happened.

Once he reached you, he quickly crouched down, not caring about the pain he felt as he did so, observing your current state, his mind clouded with shame.

He hated himself. Every fiber of his being hated himself for hurting you. He felt disgusted over his cursed speech for ever doing this to someone as kind, understanding, and loving as you.

Everything Toge had ever feared to do... ever since he was young....

He let this happen again... to someone he loved.

For a moment, Toge was a bit relieved to see you still able to move... but the overpowering amount of guilt still filled him to the core.

He wanted to call out your name, but stopped himself for a second as he took the time to think if it was a 'safe word' to say that wouldn't activate his curse again. Afterall, he's already done so much damage of using it just once on you.

"Y-.... y/...n...." anxiously and hoarsly he spoke, his voice low, unsure on how to approach the situation.

With his hand reaching out to you, hesitantly he spoke again "...y/n."

Very slightly, your body gently back away from his reach, a sign he immediately took to back away from you: You didn't want him to get near you. Were you scared of him? Did you hate him? Had he broken your trust?

As your mind began to defog, you sat up slowly, bit by bit regaining more of your vision again. The pain was slowly seeping in more to your broken leg as you gripped the upper part of your cast, grinding your teeth, and silently trembling. Toge could only watch in horror as he takes a few seconds to reflect on his own actions.

You were quiet. Extremely quiet. He hated it. Why aren't you yelling at him? Cursing at him? What were you thinking? How hurt are you...? The only sound being the drops of rain that were hitting the ground as you looked down with a look of disappointment visible in your expression, slowly regaining your composure.

With a heavy sigh to calm your uneven breath, you spoke "... I know you're hurting... I am too... but the last person I thought that could ever hurt me.... was you." You spoke quietly and slowly, your head low and your voice dejected, still gripping on your leg as your breath further turned uneven.

"y/n.... I..." He immediately paused again, stopping himself from even risking the accidental use of his speech again. He hurriedly tried to take his phone, rummaging through his pants as his hand trembled, but before he could even begin typing what he wanted to say to you, you weakly raised your hand, stopping him.

"I shouldn't have pushed you." You looked at him as your eyes had small pools of droplets resting at the lids of your eyes- droplets he knew were not because of the rain. Your caring, gentle, and soft gaze beginning to fade, just like how he felt your trust in him starting to disipitate

You made a few attempts to stand up slowly, failing miserably each time as Toge had his hand hover over you, wanting to assist you but respecting the boundaries you had just put up.

It still hurt though, pretty bad. But honestly what hurt most was not the fact you were thrown across an entire backyard, but because Toge had used his curse on you.

Falling onto the ground again after another failed attempt at standing up, he reached for you, but pulled back the last second- afraid to hurt or even scare you.

A second of panic passed before he gestured towards the house and signals you to wait.

He hurriedly ran inside to call someone else to assist you. It took only less than a minute for him to find someone before he hurriedly ran back into the garden, and once outside, he immediately looked over to where he last left you- only to find no one.

You were gone.

Confused and panicked, he immediately began searching the area, calling your name while his body was numbing the pain he was having from all the movements he was making right now.

"y/n..." He called out to you, his tone sounding slightly beggining to sound desperate "y/n...!" With a little more volume, Toge yelled.

He wanted to talk to you, help you, at least aid you and get you dressed before having car send you home if you didn't want to see him right now.

In the streets, he looked left and right for any clues that you might've left as he was mentally cursing himself for letting you leave the place in such a state.

He curses himself under his breath. Oh how he wished that he could have been actually affected by it, for he deserved it.

Immediately, he brought out his phone, opened your contact, and quickly stared tapping on the keyboard.

y/n

pls

wait

waiy pls

come back

i didnt meanm it

promisr to god i dindtt mean what ibsaid

i didnt menan to spoeak

i didnt mean to say sanythjng to you

im sorry

im so sorry

it was my failt im so sorry come back

im sorry i hurt you

if u dont want tk talk to me plesase let me get someone to take you home ols

please

im so sorry.

[Part 3] [Back to JJK Masterlist]

a/n: THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING PROMPT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO MAKE THIS BUT IT WAS TIME TO TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS🫡

Credits to @makuzume on Tumblr || Do not steal, translate, modify, reupload my works on any platform.

[thestarstoasun]

Possibly a hot take, but I think the Tartarus trip actually helped Will a lot. Obviously I have my disappointments with the book, but we do not only see Nico healing from the copious amount of trauma Rick fit into him; we get to see Will come to terms with darker parts of himself.

It's canon/very heavily implied (I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up) he came to camp at a very young age, younger than campers that aren't deemed "powerful" or have a strong scent. Despite Will thinking he isn't strong, he is the best healer Camp Half Blood has seen in, what we can assume, at least a century. He's a year-rounder, so he hasn't experienced life on the outside in years. Hell, until Trials of Apollo, his godly parent hardly took notice of him.

His older brothers and other siblings were his biggest supporters and motivators. They looked out for him and took care of him in place of a parent, specifically the older kids (Lee and Michael.) And he lost them during the Dark Prophecy - less than 2 years apart from each other. He didn't even get to search for Michael because Percy took him for a joyride across Manhattan on a motorcycle to help Annabeth.

Even after all of that, its implied/seen that he's someone who is always looking on the bright side of things, never making anything about himself, always helping others, etc. He's a ray of sunshine in everyone's life, never allowing himself to show anyone that he's hurting or suffering because he feels like he just can't. After all, he's Will Solace. He is the head medic, the infirmary can't just stop running. He's the counselor for cabin, his siblings need him to be strong.

He represses his negative emotions, even admits to it in Trials of Apollo. I think he represses them to a point he can avoid/ignore them or pretend they aren't his. It's easier to be a ray of sunshine in people's lives if the negativity and darkness you feel are projected onto someone else.

These tendencies are also something that causes strain in Nico and Will's relationship, because Nico doesn't understand how Will can't see how hypocritical he is. When in reality, Will does know, but it's easier if he avoids it. Ignorance is bliss after all. This doesn't mean Will doesn't work on trying to let Nico in, because he does, sort of.

On bad days, the days when he wakes up and wants nothing more than to curl up in the arms of his older brothers, he would go to Nico's cabin. However, his only explanation would ever be, "im tired." It frustrated him just as much as it upset Nico. He wasn't even sure if his boyfriend could tell. (Nico could, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.)

In Persephone's garden, he was forced to face the fact that there is darkness/negativity/hurt inside of him. He can't deny it when it's right in front of him, so he finally has to stop repressing everything, stop running away, and face his pains.

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 1

summary: Hunter briefs the squad on their new mission, though he’s in for a surprise of his own upon meeting the senator they’ll be protecting.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 3.932k

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

chapter 1 ⟹

“That’s it?” Echo was even less impressed than usual. His brow rose as he set a hand on his hip. “That’s the big news?”

Wrecker let out an exasperated groan of his own. “Sarge, we don’t need a break!”

Hunter’s eyebrow quirked up. “Tell that to Tech.” The sergeant gestured with his head to their squad member who was sitting just behind where he stood on the Marauder. “He still can’t walk right. I’m not throwing us into battle when we’re not all one-hundred percent.”

“Actually, I will have you know that the ligaments in my ankle have already gotten forty-two percent stronger.” Tech finally lifted his nose from his datapad and pushed his goggles up with his finger. “As you can see, I—...” Tech stood from the chair, but as soon as he placed too much pressure on his ankle, he winced. With a defeated exhale, he sunk back into the chair. “I am still healing.”

“Exactly.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chestplate. “This is still a mission, even if it’s not our usual pace.”

“As long as I have something to aim for, I’m fine with it.” Crosshair spoke without looking up from his rifle, which he was cleaning with his usual intensity.

“Well, if all goes well, you won’t.” Hunter’s prepared for the heat of Crosshair’s stern stare when it hits him. “It’s a protection job, for a senator.”

Crosshair’s response was even more snide than usual. “Isn’t that what the Coruscant Guard is for?”

“And the Jedi?” Echo added.

“On Coruscant, sure.” Hunter leaned his shoulder against the nearest interior hull and enjoyed the long moment of attentive silence he had from all four members of the squad. It was a rarity those days. “But this mission’s based elsewhere.”

Echo narrowed his eyes and spoke in a cautious tone. “Where?”

Hunter caught the gaze of all his men before answering. “Eirus.”

“Eirus is currently experiencing an intense inner crisis,” Tech somehow had the words ready for the rest of the squad straightaway, as if he knew what name was about to fall from Hunter’s tongue. “Nearly half the planet’s population is composed of fiercely loyal Separatists who have splintered into small factions. Some of these factions have become very violent in an attempt to force their senator to pledge her allegiance to their cause.”

Echo raised his brow and turned his calculated gaze from Tech back to Hunter. “This isn’t exactly an unusual thing to be happening during this war.”

“No, and that’s why most senators are staying on Coruscant longer than they used to.” Hunter’s hand slid down to his hip as he recalled the details of the short briefing. “Because of the crisis on Eirus, the senator is traveling on-world in an attempt to reach a compromise and bring an end to the violence.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Wrecker commented. He let out a hearty chuckle and shoved the shoulder of his nearest brother, who just so happened to be Crosshair. “I like this senator already!”

“She’s not the one who will have to fight if things go sideways, Wrecker,” Crosshair reminded him in his usual cool tone. The corner of his mouth began to rise as he went on. “That’s what we’ll be there for.”

“Right.” Hunter began to relax a bit as he watched the squad warm up more to the mission. “I told you it was a break because it’s a change in pace, but don’t worry boys.” Hunter pushed himself off the hull and nodded as his lips stretched in a satisfied smile. “I have a feeling we’ll still be seeing some action.”

“So, I will get to shoot something?” Crosshair cocked his rifle with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“And I’ll get to blow something up?” Wrecker set a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder again as he stepped forward. Crosshair shot him a disapproving look.

“That depends.” Hunter drew his blaster from his holster and flipped it a few times in his grasp, though the latter movement was subconscious. “We’re on a struck stun-only policy.”

“What?” Wrecker gasped with surprise. “Why? What if there’re droids?”

“Seeing as we are soldiers of the Republic, using live rounds on the people of Eirus would only escalate the issue the senator is trying to resolve,” Tech answered. “We would be giving the Separatist population another reason to justify their actions against the Republic.”

“And as far as our intel goes, no Separatist forces have made their way to Eirus,” Hunter added, holstering his blaster.

“Yet.” Echo spoke the word that hung in the air between the five of them.

“We’ll have a better idea of exactly what we’re up against when we get there.” Hunter shifted to face Tech. “For now, we have to head to Coruscant to meet the senator.”

Tech nodded, spinning around in the pilot’s chair to chart a course. The squad began to break off as the sergeant sat in the open co-pilot’s chair beside Tech’s. Crosshair was still adding the final touches on his rifle’s cleanliness in the seat behind Hunter’s, while Wrecker and Echo had disappeared further inside the hold.

After Tech finished inputting the coordinates, he turned to look at the sergeant. “Hunter, you know that we do not have to do this on my accord.” He looked down at his wrapped ankle. “With the bacta infusions I have been doing, my injury should be completely healed in about two rotations’ time.”

“I know, Tech.” Hunter let out a soft exhale and leaned back in his chair. He unsheathed his blade and began to twirl it around in another subconscious exercise. “We’ve just been running a lot of back-to-back missions, and obviously, it’s starting to catch up to us.”

Crosshair snorted, and Hunter’s senses didn’t need to amplify the sound to make it obvious. Hunter didn’t bother giving him a look as he focused on the movements of his knife.

“Plus, we were specifically requested for this mission.”

Tech’s brow shot up at that. “Someone selected us? For a protection job?”

“Not just ‘someone.’” Hunter gave Tech a quick glance to highlight the smirk that had begun to tug at his lips. “The senator herself.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, clearly unsure of what to do in his shock. “The senator? That’s highly unusual. Typically, it would be an individual on the senator’s personal guard who would do the necessary research to—.”

“I think Hunter knows how it works,” Crosshair huffed from his place behind them.

“You’re right though, Tech. It’s unusual.” Hunter caught the hilt of his knife and paused to fully face Tech. “It caught my curiosity. I want to know what she thinks is so special about us.”

Tech blinked at Hunter a few times. “I presume it would be our desirable genetic mutations that are, in case you were not aware, not a secret.”

“Yeah, and what does that usually cause?” Hunter sheathed his blade and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Caution and distrust. Not a personal invitation to what’s most likely the most important diplomatic mission of her political career.”

“You… have a point.” Tech lifted his datapad and began to tap around it. “I will do some more research on the senator.”

“Great.” Hunter stood and patted Tech on the shoulder before he moved out of the cockpit. 

Wrecker was already lounging in the chair by the systems console, while Echo lingered in the corner and fiddled with something on his arm. Hunter caught their attention as he stepped into their space, which made it all the more easier for him to address him.

“You boys should get some rest. We’re a long way out from Coruscant.” He nodded at Echo, who had raised his brow before he had a chance to ask his question. “I’m taking first watch.”

“Again?” Wrecker’s tone was coated in disbelief. His gaze betrayed that same emotion. “Are you actually gonna get some rest this time, Sarge?”

Hunter shrugged and offered a small smile. “Depends on how fast we get there.” He let out a sigh when Wrecker’s concern still didn’t let up. “Don’t worry about me, Wrecker. We’ll all be getting some more rest on this mission.”

That was enough for Wrecker, causing him to nod as he leaned back further in the chair and closed his eyes. His feet had already been kicked up on the console, and he was fortunate Tech hadn’t yet noticed. That wouldn’t last long.

As Hunter turned to re-enter the cockpit, he found Crosshair already standing and shouldering Tech. “We already heard you,” Crosshair assured him.

“I pulled up everything I could find on the senator,” Tech informed the sergeant, handing him the datapad with his free hand. “What I found most fascinating was the motivation behind her appointment.”

Hunter nodded at Tech in approval, and he knew better than to comment on the speed of his research. “Good work.” He looked between the two of them. “Now get some rest.”

Tech spoke to Hunter over his shoulder as Crosshair started to crutch him away. “You are aware that the brain and the body cannot properly operate on limited rest, especially with as little sleep as you have gotten in recent rotations?”

Hunter scoffed fondly to himself and called back to him. “Thanks, Tech.”

The sergeant held the datapad and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. He leaned back and held up the datapad, clicking through Tech’s research. Taking his brother’s advice, Hunter first looked at the senator’s background, specifically the history of your appointment.

His eyes widened as he read the Aurebesh text in front of him. He had to agree with Tech; your ascension from rebellion leader to senator was nothing short of fascinating.

According to the history Tech had pulled up, you had been the one to organize a large group of Eirus’ population against an oppressive local regime, which had slowly taken over the planet’s government. They had covered up the assassination of Eirus’ senator, who was your relative, and withdrawn from the Republic Senate altogether. It wasn’t until your forces managed to topple their regime that you had become the planet’s senator and reestablished a relationship between Eirus and the Senate.

That only made Hunter’s curiosity ache even more. If you once had enough forces to overthrow a regime, then why did you need a Republic squadron as protection? It did, at least, speak somewhat to why their squad had been chosen. Clearly, as a soldier and tactician yourself, you had done the research to find the ideal squad for the job.

Even as his eyes began to burn from the aforementioned lack of rest his brothers had been getting on his case about, he couldn’t stop planning the ways he would pick your brain for the reason why they were the ones you needed so badly.

This kept Hunter busy for the commute. He remained on watch the entire time, only leaving his post when the Marauder was about to drop out of hyperspace. Hunter woke up the squad and instructed them to get ready, and it was no surprise that Tech was already prepared to take the helm. His ankle had healed considerably during his rest, just as he had predicted, and thus he was able to limp himself to the cockpit with a surprising amount of ease.

Hunter stayed in the co-pilot’s seat and gave Tech the information on the senator’s designated docking area. It had been a while since their last visit to Coruscant, but of course, Tech navigated the air traffic with ease. The Marauder soon began its descent onto the platform, and Hunter observed the space with a raise of his brow.

Rather than the typical red markings of the Republic, or even the white and gold accents many senators added for flair, your platform was filled with delicate swirls of green and purple. The color palette reminded him of the few lush planets he and the squad had been to on various missions, emulating the colorful overgrowth of forests and gardens. He let out an impressed huff. It seemed you were truly carving your own path in more ways than just one.

Hunter rose from his chair to collect his belongings. He secured his pack on his back and checked all his weapons before reaching for his helmet. As soon as the Marauder had fully landed, Tech did the same, and he was the last of the squad to get in formation by the hatch. After Hunter did a quick assessment of them all, he slid on his helmet and lowered the stairs.

As he led the way out, Hunter observed their surroundings more closely. They were being approached by the senator and her guards, with the man Hunter had spoken to leading in front and the others blocking the senator from view. The guards wore the same colors of green and purple as the platform, and their weapons were accented with silver.

“Sergeant,” the head guard greeted once he was in earshot. Hunter wondered if the man knew he still could have heard him at any distance. The guard stopped just a few paces away from the squad and bowed his head. “Thank you for arriving so promptly.”

Hunter removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm before repeating the man’s bow. “Captain.” He gestured with his head to his squad. “We’re just as eager to get going.”

The captain smiled. “We figured as much.”

Hunter’s eyebrow rose. “‘We?’”

The captain’s grin spread even more widely as he took a step back and gestured with his arm to the guards behind him. “Allow me to formally introduce you.” The captain announced your full name and title, and the guards standing in front of you parted to allow you to step through.

Hunter was no stranger to seeing and speaking with diplomats and leaders, from planetary royalty to the other senators of the Republic. Those types of positions always emphasized image, and thus Hunter was used to seeing some of the most conventionally attractive people in the galaxy—but this, seeing you, was the first time he ever had to audibly stifle a breath.

For once, the only heartbeat Hunter could sense was his own, the skip and then speed of it as it hammered against his armored chest.

Composure. It was a lesson he and the others all had to learn on Kamino, and it was one he had always excelled in. It was much of the reason why he had earned his rank as sergeant. This, however, was the first time he ever had to forcibly remind himself to find it.

Then he realized the strength of the skip in his heartbeat wasn’t just from his own, but also from yours. That made his mask slip for one second more before he pulled it together.

“Senator.” Hunter resisted the urge to clear his throat as he bowed his head, taking the quick moment of concealment to let the flush burn through his cheeks. It was hard to keep the sensation from persisting when he looked back up and observed that you wore the same colors as your guards.

“You must be Sergeant Hunter.” Your voice added a new layer of unfamiliar yet sweet warmth to Hunter’s chest as your lips spread in a radiant smile. You extended your hand towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

All thoughts and proper protocol dissipated from Hunter’s mind as he saw your outstretched hand in front of him. He took it without his gaze ever breaking from yours and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the soft skin on the back of your hand before offering it back to you. “The pleasure’s all ours, Senator.”

And there it was, another skip in your heartbeat. Hunter fought hard to hide his own smile as yours grew. Your gaze gave him a once-over, an action so quick Hunter would have second guessed it if he hadn’t felt its gentle burn. “I like your armor. It’s different from the other clones.”

“Yeah, well… so are we.” His words reminded him of the squad who still stood behind him, and Hunter stepped aside to make them all more visible. “Let me introduce you to the squad.” He began with Wrecker, who was closest to his side. “This is—.”

“—Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair.” You named each one of them with ease, your face beaming as you gave them all a respectful nod. “I apologize for cutting you off, Sergeant. I just… I love your squad’s work.”

Hunter blinked a few times in surprise at what he was hearing. It was rare enough for such diplomats, politicians, and royals to have even heard of his squad, much less admire what they did on the battlefield. “Well, uh… thank you, Senator.”

“That is certainly a surprising sentiment,” Tech couldn’t keep himself from adding. “Commonly, the adjectives associated with our battle strategies are… less than favorable.”

“Hah!” Wrecker elbowed Tech’s chestplate, making him wince and rub the spot with narrowed eyes. “My favorite was when that prime minister called us ‘destructive.’”

“You’re not being helpful, Wrecker,” Crosshair muttered.

“Oh, stow it, Crosshair,” Wrecker scoffed. “You’re just mad that I got the last of ‘em on that mission.”

“That’s enough.” Hunter resisted the urge to sigh at them as he turned to face you with an apologetic look.

You instead offered him a reassuring nod and a soft laugh. “I think it’s great you have some friendly competition in your squad.” You looked over them with fondness. “It breeds efficiency.”

“That’s right!” Wrecker cheered. He reached over to Crosshair to give his armored shoulder a light push. “I told you I would like her!”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Echo mumbled, his words only loud enough for the squad to hear. 

Hunter tightened his jaw when he felt their gazes on him and heard Crosshair’s snickering. “If you’d like, Senator, we can lead the way in our ship.” He gestured with his free hand back to the Marauder. “Just in case there are any unwanted surprises awaiting your arrival.”

“Hopefully that’s not the case, but I’d appreciate that, Sergeant.” You smiled again and nodded. “Thank you. I look forward to working with you more closely on Eirus.” Your gaze lingered on Hunter before it looked around the squad.

“As do we.” Hunter bowed his head once more. “Tech will set up a secure comm channel for us to use once we’re on board.”

“Perfect.” Your smile was directed at Tech as you nodded at him. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You do not need to extend gratitude towards me for merely fulfilling my purpose, Senator.” Hunter couldn’t help the small eye roll he gave at Tech’s words. So much for Hunter being the one to slip up on propriety.

Hunter slid his helmet back on and began to lead the squad back to the Marauder. His face burned from both his memory of what had just happened and his anticipation of what he would be up against inside the ship. He flexed the hand that had held yours as it also burned at the memory of your touch.

Maybe Hunter was more right before than even he had known at the time. Maybe all those missions really had taken its toll on them, and maybe it was driving him down a delusional spiral. He really did need to get some rest.

As soon as the squad was on the Marauder with the hatch secured in place, Tech spoke up. “That was not the proper protocol for greeting a senator, Hunter.”

“I’m aware, Tech.” He lifted his helmet and gestured with his head to the cockpit. “Get those comms set up and chart our course.”

Tech nodded, though Hunter didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips as he limped to the cockpit. Hunter set his helmet down and ran his hand over his hair as he thought about what to do next. He had a plan before, surely; he had thought of it in hyperspace on the way to Coruscant. It had, of course, vanished for some reason.

“You seem distracted, Sarge,” Wrecker’s voice broke through Hunter’s thoughts as he grinned slyly at him.

“Come on, Wrecker,” Echo said next. His expression turned from serious to amused as his gaze found Hunter’s. “Clearly, he is distracted.”

“I’m thinking about our arrival on Eirus,” Hunter insisted.

“And your reunion with—,” Crosshair started.

“Our plan.” Hunter raised his brow, challenging them to continue. Crosshair raised his brow and fought a smile as he set a toothpick between his lips. “We don’t know what will be waiting for us when we get there.”

“You sound worried, Hunter.” Echo set a hand on his hip as he faced the sergeant. “I thought this mission was going to be a ‘break.’”

“Nah, he’s just getting protective already.” Wrecker set a hand on Echo’s shoulder and chuckled a few times.

Hunter circled his jaw and crossed his arms. “That’s the whole point of this mission. Protecting.” Hunter furrowed his brow at the men around him. “Don’t forget that.”

Echo’s brow rose as he looked over at Wrecker. “You’re right, Wrecker.” He snickered. “‘Protective.’”

Hunter rolled his eyes and turned around to walk into the cockpit. As he went, he heard Crosshair say one more thing to Echo and Wrecker. “He really does need to get some sleep. He’s gotten… cranky.”

Hunter didn’t bother throwing a glare over his shoulder as he approached Tech in the pilot’s chair. He set his hands upon the back of the chair to check on Tech’s progress. “How’s it going in here?”

“Presumably much better than it has for you out there.” Tech didn’t so much as crack a smile as he worked the controls, despite his joke that made Hunter huff with amusement. “The comm channel is fully functioning, and our course is charted. Seeing as Eirus is located in the Outer Rim, we will have another lengthy trip ahead of us.”

Hunter nodded. “Great. I’m going to get some long-awaited rest.”

“Good.” Tech looked up from the controls to give Hunter a pointed glance. “I believe it is the lack of rest that caused such a slip-up in your propriety today.”

Hunter smiled at that, and part of him wanted to believe it. “Right.” He patted Tech’s shoulder and stepped out of the cockpit. Echo brushed past him on his way to claim first watch, and Wrecker and Crosshair couldn’t keep their sly smiles contained as Hunter walked to his bunk.

As he settled in, the full weight of what had happened during your meeting began to sink in. Tech had a point, as it had to be the lack of rest that allowed him to get so carried away. There was no point in even entertaining the thought of giving in to the warmth he had felt before. Potential reciprocation wouldn’t change that.

He knew what Cut had sacrificed for Suu. As the leader of his squad, Hunter couldn’t do the same. He refused to.

And the fact he was even letting such thoughts go so far caused his face to burn with a different kind of embarrassment as he fell asleep to flashes of green and purple in his exhausted mind.

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Not Like Him

Prompt: Because of your past, you hate confrontation. One day, Niall comes home particularly grumpy.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: anxiety, past verbal abuse mention

A/N: hi all!!! continuing to try and post on here. please feel free to send any niall x reader prompts / ideas my way :)

You’re in the midst of putting a dish you just washed away when you hear the front door open, then suddenly slam shut. The pictures hanging on the wall rattle as you peer around the corner anxiously. The first thing you see is Niall bustling through the door. Normally, having Niall home would cause a surge of warmth and excitement to rush through you– but today, instantly, you recognize that something about his demeanor is off. 

He throws his flannel on the chair and with his back facing you, runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to you, there’s no warm smile or cheerful greeting. Instead, he takes a few steps then tosses his keys on the counter, letting them slide carelessly across the surface. He makes no effort to even acknowledge your existence. 

Instantly, a lump forms in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. You hate tension… Or any sort of confrontation, really. Your parent’s entire marriage was built off tension and confrontation– passive aggressive comments and slamming doors leading to screaming, which then led to shattered dishes or dented walls. 

Your father had a temper. And it didn't matter how well behaved or helpful or unseen you were. Something always managed to spark his anger. The nights he drank were worse, and as the years went on, the sober version of himself made less and less of an appearance. 

Although you didn't recognize it at the time, looking back, you knew that you spent the vast majority of your childhood living on edge– always waiting for the yelling or the screaming. You were afraid more often than not. And that wasn't something you could just unlearn when you were old enough to leave– no matter how far away you were.  

In fact, it took years of hard work to heal from the trauma you'd experienced. But for so long, it felt like no matter how much therapy you attended or self-help books you read, there was always a part of you that was just stuck. 

Until you met Niall. 

Niall was the missing piece. His presence alone was healing. He was calm and safe and consistent. He was patient and gentle and kind. And when you finally got up enough courage to tell him about your childhood, he listened carefully, his brows furrowed somberly. It was like your trauma caused him physical pain– that's how much he loved you– how much he felt with you. 

With Niall, you could safely work on communicating without screaming matches or slamming doors. It had taken time, but slowly, piece by piece, you started to rebuild, until you actually felt like you could trust someone again. 

And of course, even now, in the midst of whatever this unknown territory was, you trust him. But despite that, tension is radiating off from him. It’s almost palpable in the air– suffocating you. 

You have to say something– Niall will understand. 

“How was your day?” You ask nervously, already knowing the answer. 

Niall walks right past you to the fridge, pulling the door open and ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety settling like a rock in your stomach. This feeling felt too familiar… 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. He pulls out a beer, showing no sign that he even heard you. He cracks it open, the sound alone sending shivers down your spine as you’re instantly reminded of all the nights your father would drink five beers before even recognizing you were home. But Niall is not your dad, you remind yourself. Niall is gentle. Niall is kind. 

He takes a long swig before walking towards the stairs.

“Niall?” you say, worry evident in your tone. 

He doesn’t stop. 

Niall isn't like him. Niall cares about your feelings. Niall loves you.

You follow him a few steps, knowing that you can’t let him just go to bed this… angry? Upset? Whatever he is– 

“Niall, what’s going on–”

“Oh my God!” He bellows suddenly, waving his arms and spinning in his tracks to finally look at you. “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second?!”

Before you can quiet down your brain or repeat all the ways Niall was different from your father, your body reacts as if they are one and the same. You flinch harshly from his sudden movements and loud tone, like your body remembered exactly how it felt to live in your house twenty years ago. And before you can help it, the glass cup in your hand falls to the floor, shattering around your feet. 

The noise makes you snap out of your trance. Looking down at the mess you made, your mouth goes dry. Your whole body has already begun shaking and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes. 

“I’m sorry–” you whisper, choking back a sob. Then you brace for the screaming– the berating. Clumsy, stupid, idiot. 

Nervously, you kneel down, tucking your hair behind your ear while you try to pick up the broken glass. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s obvious Niall had a bad day. So why couldn’t you just leave him alone? The last thing he needs is you making and being a mess. 

“Sorry–“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt he hears. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces of shattered glass in your hand. Your vision quickly becomes blurry with tears as they streak down your cheeks. 

“Shit,” you vaguely hear, but you don’t stop trying to clean up. You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before he can get more upset about it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Through your clouded vision, you can’t see what you’re collecting off the floor– all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Baby, stop–”  

The voice is distant.

“I promise I’ll clean it up,” you say, hands shaking so violently, you wonder how no pieces have sliced open your skin yet. 

“Baby–” 

It’s just background noise. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” 

You vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can wave him away, Niall reaches out– hand cupping yours before forcing open your fingers. As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you see him reach up to toss it on the counter before kneeling back down to be on your level. 

All it takes is one arm wrapping around your shoulders for you to break. Suddenly, you can’t hold back the sob that’s been sitting in your throat. The second it escapes from your lips, Niall pulls you into his chest tightly. 

“C’mere,” he exhales, chin resting on your head while he slides the both of you back against the cupboard. You let out a choked gasp and cling to him. 

His arm winds tightly around you, locking you in place. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up–” you cry.  

“Shh,” he soothes. He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy as you shake against him. Niall grabs your bicep with his hand, holding you steady while his thumb rubs up and down your bare skin gently, trying to calm you down. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to feel like you can think again. Time stands still as you settle into his embrace. Niall’s embrace– you remind yourself. Not your father’s. Because your father wouldn’t embrace you after yelling like that. And he certainly wouldn’t embrace you after you broke a dish. 

After a while, your breathing gradually returns to normal again. Moments later, you feel him shift. “Did you cut yourself?” he asks carefully. 

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor before scanning the length of you. 

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you did. 

Niall nods before reaching his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get away from the glass.”

You take it willingly, sighing as you feel the warmth from his palm spread through your hand. He guides you away from the pile of glass and towards the kitchen island. He helps you settle into one of the tall stools. 

“Hey,” you hear him whisper. But you’re still staring at the mess, so worried about cleaning it up. Until you feel firm, but careful hands cupping each side of your face– forcing your attention to shift towards him. “Hey,” he repeats. 

His calloused thumb trails along your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re leaning into his touch, craving his comfort. 

“Did you cut yourself?” he asks again, clearly not trusting your earlier response. 

To be fair– you’re not even sure that you trust your earlier response. By now, you feel like you’re actually back in your own body, and feel no pain. So you shake your head, this time more convincingly.  

As soon as you give the confirmation that you’re alright, Niall takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulders, crashing his body against yours.  

“I’m so sorry,” he says, lips ghosting against the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of him. Niall is not your dad, you repeat. Niall apologizes. Niall loves you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm. “I’m sorry I was so annoying– I’m sorry I broke the glass.”

You feel Niall shake his head above you. “No–” he says firmly. “I don’t give a shit about the glass. I had a shitty day,” he sighs. “A really shitty day. But that’s not your fault.”

“I should have just given you space.”

He shakes his head again, pulling back from his embrace to look at you earnestly. “No– We’re supposed to talk about things. I promised you I’d always talk to you about things, and I broke that today.”

He brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face, before wiping some stray tears stuck under your eyes. “I know how much yelling activates you– I know it sets you off, and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re allowed to get annoyed,” you remind him. “And angry. You’re allowed to yell.” 

“That’s not how you and I communicate,” he says. “That’s not ever how I want to communicate, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time”

Squeezing him tighter, you nod against his chest. 

Because Niall is not your father and you believe him.

[lurkingshan]

I've been thinking a lot about the depictions of generational trauma and parental accountability being presented in dramas lately. Since you've watched way more than me, especially outside of BLs, what are some shows that present or include parental accountability?

This is such a good question and one I have been thinking about a lot since Last Twilight episode 10 aired. Westerners often assume that because of Asian cultural norms around filial piety, parental authority, and respect for elders, we can never expect satisfying parental accountability in our Asian drama narratives. But that's not true! It's been done and done well. It’s because these values are so deeply embedded in most Asian cultures that Asian creators are the best positioned to speak on the harms they can cause, and will often embed these themes in their work.

Now, there is an important distinction to make here: the difference between what characters do, and what the story communicates. A character may choose to abide by honoring their parents at all costs, but the story can still communicate how harmful that is. A character may never apologize for something they have done wrong, but the story can still make it clear they have fucked up and hold them accountable for that via tangible consequences. Here are a few examples from bl to illustrate what I mean, and the different ways this can show up in dramas.

Bad Buddy

One of the most obvious examples of parental accountability in genre, and also a pretty full metal version of it. This entire story is about the damage Ming and Dissaya did their sons with their decades-long feud and insistence on pushing that trauma down on their children, and we got some extremely cathartic scenes of Pat and Pran telling their parents exactly what they thought about that. Of course, even though they raged at their parents, they never got the apologies they deserved (and likely never will) and still had to hide their relationship to appease their parents going forward. But that doesn't mean there was no accountability here. The entire narrative held these parents accountable by showing us how they were harming their sons, forcing them to reckon with it, and ultimately showing them settling into a form of resigned acceptance.

Until We Meet Again

This entire show is about Korn and In's reincarnated souls healing from the trauma of their tragic ending, which was brought upon by the familial pressure and rejection they experienced from their fathers. We not only saw Dean and Pharm work through this trauma and forge new bonds with family members, we saw the direct aftermath of their first deaths, the despair and regret their families felt, and the ceremony that tied their souls together as a result. It's big karmic accountability on a grand scale, and the show never flinched from letting us see exactly how much harm was caused by these parents, or how the tenets of filial piety resulted in Korn's despair that he couldn't be what his father wanted. Even more crucially, we were shown, not just told, the counterpoint impact of good parenting, when Dean and Pharm were accepted by their families in their second life.

Blueming

A rare example of an Asian parent being called to the carpet, feeling the wrongness of their actions, and actually apologizing for it. This does in fact happen in drama! Si Won's mom raised him to hate himself, to be ashamed of his body, to fake his way through life so people would like him, and boy did it do a lot of damage. The story showed us how this affected Si Won and his relationships deeply, and brought him to the point where it finally burst out of him. And his mom, to her credit, was dismayed to understand what she had done to her son. This show also gets bonus points for Da Un standing up to his own mother after she interferes in the film contest.

Bed Friend

Uea's mother's sins against him are numerous, and I will not go into them all in detail to spare my own sanity. She is an abusive parent so horrific that she can never be forgiven, and doesn't need to be. An apology from her would be utterly meaningless. Instead, the drama holds her to account via showing us what she's done to Uea and the work he has to do to heal from the trauma she caused, and ultimately having her son cut her out of his life. It's the biggest consequence she can ever face for her choices and that Uea finds the courage to do it is the story's biggest triumph.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

On the subtler end of the scale, we have our beloved KNT, which weaves parental accountability through its story in the long, slow journey for Shiro's mother to accept who he is and the partner he has chosen in life. What I love most about this particular depiction is that it's not at all linear in nature. We see her make strides by finally acknowledging Kenji and inviting him to her home, and then backtrack by rescinding the offer due to her own discomfort, and then include him in her family planning to ensure he will be cared for after her death. She’s homophobic and traditional, but she loves her son and sees how much happier he is with Kenji in his life. She is constantly reckoning with that tension. And Shiro and Kenji, being of an older generation themselves, don't hold it against her, even as the show makes sure we understand how much it hurts them. They are not okay with it, but they do understand why she's like this, so they take what she can give and forgive the rest. It's a really touching portrayal of this kind of impasse in a family.

Moonlight Chicken

There are several different vectors of parental accountability in MLC. There is Heart confronting his parents over their neglect and abuse and finally demanding to be treated with dignity. There is Li Ming directly calling out his mother for how her life choices have affected him. And there is Li Ming and his surrogate dad, Jim, working out their issues so that they can communicate better, and so that Jim can learn to stop pushing his own fears and anxiety down onto the next generation. All of it handled with deftness, with care, and with clear purpose to examine the ways intergenerational trauma can perpetuate in the absence of accountability.

[jaylver]

CASINO LOVE AFFAIR — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: Hunting supernatural beings is not your passion at all. But somehow, you were always inevitably tied to it. To make your grudge against it deeper, someone had to drag you along a bumpy ride. Who was it? The man that broke into your house in the middle of the night to convince you to join him to save his lost brother in Sin City, Vegas. Jay had one chance to save his brother, and another one chance to rekindle something that was lost between you and him. All in that one casino.

PAIRINGS: supernatural hunter!jay x supernatural hunter afab!reader

GENRE: frenemies (with benefits) to lovers, supernatural au, inspired by tv series "supernatural", jay is based off "dean winchester", romance, angst, action

WARNING(S): profanities, drinking, mentions of death/murder, violence, suggestive content (no smut), slightly possessive jay, demons, possessions

WC: 11k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: specially dedicated to my supernatural enthusiasts, especially to my dean girlies (gn) who loves jay! rest assured, there's going to be hoon ver (based off sammy) <3 i hope you'll love this one as much as i enjoyed writing it, please leave feedbacks!!

masterlist | © jaylver 2023

In this world, accidents and tragedies were recurring happenings, but what people didn't understand was the fact that neither were coincidences. You heard that right, it might sound insanely crazy, but the supernatural exists. 

There were two types of people on planet Earth. Ones that were blessed with obliviousness, unaware that the local murder case wasn't just a simple serial killer on the loose. Then, there's the ones that were rather cursed with the ability of hunting, knowing the real truths behind tragedies and solving said supernatural cases. They were known as hunters.

No, not the hunters that chase after deers with a gun, but rather chasing after demons, vampires and much more freaky stuff with more than just a single gun.

You were, unfortunately, part of the small percentage of hunters that were tasked to hunt supernatural beings and protect others. You never wanted this life, you despised it, the constant fear constantly followed. It was your father who dragged you into this, being a hunter himself, it was natural he had to train you to become one as well. 

You were an only child, so it was no surprise your father ended up dragging you along to hunts and let's say the amount of therapy wasn't enough to heal the traumas you've witnessed and experienced. Dread was the feeling you carried up until your 20s, tired of this life and craving the normal college life of an ordinary being, but then that was when everything changed. Your father was killed. 

You guessed it, freak accident with a vampire. Fantastic. Just to make things even more complicated, the infamous Park brothers turned up at your front door pretending to be police officers, doing their usual investigation, or rather identity fraud. What they didn't know was that you knew who they were, so they were eventually busted. You still accepted their help either way, finding the vampires and bringing your father to justice.

That all happened a few years ago, constantly staying in contact with the Park brothers while they travelled around hunting and you stayed home merrily, occasionally meeting if they were in town. Mostly, the best you could repay them was at least some help in information. You were glad to finally start afresh, getting a new job and shopping for new furniture. You thought this was it, time to settle down and put everything in the past.

But, you spoke too soon.

You were a light sleeper. From the years of your father's gruelling training, you learnt to listen for any weird noses during the night, and it surely did help. You could barely sleep, hearing odd creaks as your adrenaline increased, imagining the scenario where you had to reach for the iron knife under your bed. 

Creak. Creak. Creak.

The faint footstep got closer and louder, reaching your side of the bed, standing right beside you and stopped eventually. You sensed a figure, this wasn't good. Demon? Vampire? Your hand slowly travelled down to the spot of your knife, eyes shut tight and heart beating crazily. In the count of three, strike.

One … two … three—

"Woah, woah, woah, easy there tiger,"

Your hand reacted first, thrusting the knife forward without your eyes open, but once the voice travelled into your ears and your mind turned, you opened your eyes in an instant.

This was worse than a demon. 

"Jay?"

One of the Park brothers happened to be standing in the middle of your bedroom. At three in the morning. Were you going to question how he got in? Maybe later.

"Y/N," he saluted back at you, a noticeable grin on his face despite the darkness, but you remained impassive, a wary look on your face and your hold on the knife didn't relax.

“Hold on,” you said, scrambling out of bed, scepticism clear in your voice, your stance unchanged as you held tight onto the knife. “Are you really Jay?”

Jay tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. "You're seriously doubting me? Right now?"

"Hey, I'm a hunter, you're a hunter, we both know this is basic caution,"

"Alright," he threw his hands up, giving in. "Quiz me,"

"Where's my birthmark?"

"You're seriously asking this—?"

"You've forgotten it?" You stared accusingly at him, the knife in your hand was dangerously close to him and he was clearly aware of that too. "You're the only person who knows this," you narrowed your gaze.

"It's been ages since the last time we fucked—"

"Can you not bring that up?"

"Fine. On your back," he answered, his eyes flickering between you and the knife. 

"Where?"

"That specific?" He whined, but once he saw you were, in fact, not kidding, he cleared his throat. "Lower back, on the right, almost at the side. It's a small birthmark that is shaped like a heart,"

You blinked. Thankful it wasn't some creature disguised as him, but also churning in slight rage that he was here. Look, you and Jay had … some interesting history. No bad blood was caused from it, but it had affected your ties with him, which explained why he was the lesser favourite brother to you. He was never going to know that though.

Just for old times sake and also not seeing him for months, you threw the knife onto the bed, engulfing him into a hug. "Gods, you're alive,"

He chuckled, his hand rubbing your back. "Of course I am. Doubting my skills now?"

"Jay, you literally died and came back before," you pulled away, staring pointedly at him.

"That was the past, this is the present," he waved it off, coughing awkwardly and you rolled your eyes. You switched on your table lamp, taking a small bottle from your bedside drawer and handing it to him.

"What's this? Complimentary water for guests?" 

"Holy water, if you count that as complimentary,"

"You're kidding. I passed your quiz,"

"I'm trying to be sure there's no hidden demon inside your body, okay?" You raised the small bottle to eye level. "Drink up,"

"Fine," Jay gritted, snatching the bottle from your hand, chugging half of it down. No demon, thankfully. "See?"

"Just wanted to confirm," you tossed the bottle back into the drawer, turning to face him with a quizzical stare. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've broken into my house in the middle of the night?"

"Breaking in? Pft," 

"Jay," you said flatly, a stern look gazing back at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jay clenched his jaw, seemingly rethinking his words in his mind, calculatingly picking the right ones to make sure you wouldn't explode. "I need help,"

"No,"

"What?" He was taken aback by your bluntness. "You always helped us,"

"Busting into my house at 3 AM doesn't sound like your usual need for my help. You want me to do something more hands-on, don't you?"

Jay was silent. You got him there.

"Jay, I am always here for help. You do know I literally commit illegal things just to dig up information for you two right? But that's the most I'll do and the least I can do for you, I swore I wouldn't go back into hunting,"

"But this one's important,"

"You have Sunghoon to help you anyway,"

"He's gone," 

The next few sentences you had in mind died in your throat. The other Park brother was missing? There was no way this happened. They were skilled hunters, what went wrong?

Jay cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, noticing your obvious shock. "Look, that's why I'm here. Hoon's gone, poof, missing. One second he was at the motel and the next when I got back, he's gone. I should've never left,"

"Any ideas what it could've been?"

"No," he shook his head, frustration laced in the way he had his eyebrows furrowed. 

"How are we supposed to find him? Jay, I'm no sorcerer or a crossroad demon that can summon him up. I could be as equally lost as you are,"

He ran his hands through his hair, heaving a deep and heavy sigh. "I don't know either. I'm fucked, okay? I don't have anyone else to find but you, and there's no one that knows Hoon as much as I do but you,"

"How do I know I can trust you this time?" You mindlessly let the words slip out, referring to the incident that caused the slight crack between you two, its effect remained even after.

"I told you I'm sorry already, Y/N," he said softly, catching on your innuendo at once. 

It was the last time you went on an actual hunt with the Park brothers when it happened. Crazy monsters and demon ladies were nothing too big for you three, but the moment a human was involved, the hunt became vulnerable. 

A part of you wanted to save the innocent man even though he was long gone and already affected by the creature, turning wild gradually. Being the rash and impulsive person Jay was, he demanded to kill the man at once, Sunghoon trying to calm him down while you fought back. 

It was a stupid argument, you were emotional and he was aggressive, Sunghoon trying to be neutral and diffusing the tension, but failed. In the end, a cure was found but Jay had already killed the man. Even though you were able to save the others, a part of you continued to seethe with anger.

'Too emotional' was what Jay called you. Storming away was the only thing you could muster in that moment, and it took a few days before he showed up at your front door apologising with a bouquet of flowers. Were you fully satisfied? Not really. Did things change? Definitely.

As for now, you pondered thoughtfully. Despite your valiant efforts of escaping the supernatural part of your past, you knew it was imminent it would come back, just not like this. Sunghoon was a nice guy, he and his brother helped you and your family before, and some part of you wanted to do the same. You swore you didn't want to hunt with the Park brothers after that incident, and it seemed that you had no choice but to eat your words. You were going to regret your decision, you know so.

"Okay," it came out more of a whisper, which made Jay lean in closer, an eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"Okay, fine, I'll go with you to find Sunghoon. Don't make me go back on my word," 

"Right, right," Jay said rather excitedly, his eyes beaming. "Gods, how did I manage to get the Y/N L/N to hunt with me? I am a lucky man,"

"Don't test your luck," you took the iron knife from your bed and pointed it at him, earning a sleazy eye roll from the latter.

"You still have your gears with you?" He glanced around your room, not a single weapon in sight, only messy heaps of clothes.

"Duh," your hand reached for the bottom of your pillow, pulling out another blade, made purely from iron, perfect for killing supernatural beings. "When are we leaving?"

"Best before day break,"

"So … roadtrip?"

"You bet."

Begrudgingly, you shoved some clothes into a small carry on, packing guns, knives, blades, salt. Yes, salt, sodium. It might seem weird but salt literally saves lives, literally. An insignificant kitchen ingredient held a significant role by protecting people from spirits attack. Rock salts were used as ammunition as well to ward spirits off for a short time. Insane, right?

Jay helped you fit your bags into the trunk of his Chevrolet Impala, one that he has been driving almost forever. Among your bags, there were a shit ton of weapons, quite messily scattered around, some stuck on the trunk door. It was certainly a rich collection. 

“Hop in, dollface. Be my guest,”

You rolled your eyes as Jay opened the car door for you. He was still the same old Jay. Promiscuous, teasing, haughty, but you supposed that was the charming point of him. You remembered the insides of the car as clear as day when you got in, almost felt like it was just yesterday when you were in it.

“Where to?” you turned to look over at Jay who had just slammed the car door shut, his hands on the wheel, a cheshire grin pulled at his lips.

“Vegas,” he flashed you a toothy smirk, but you could only mirror his expression with an unamused one. 

“Sin city? You’re kidding. Why on earth are we heading there—God, Jay, don’t tell me you developed some gambling addiction—”

“No! For fuck’s sake,” Jay pulled the car to start, the headlights brightened the dark street at once. Well, goodbye to your home, you hoped you would make it back alive. “It was where Hoonie and I had our last hunt, the place he went missing, and funny thing, the hunt is incomplete,”

“So, you’re telling me you drove all the way to my house from Vegas in the middle of an unfinished hunt just because Sunghoon’s gone,”

“‘Just because’? Y/N, it’s life or death!”

“I’m not saying this isn’t important!” you bite back, sleep deprivation wasn’t helping your increased agitation. “Didn’t this happen before? One of you goes missing and the other solves the case and finds each other? What’s so big this time?”

“This did happen,” Jay sighed, the bags under his eyes obvious despite the darkness surrounding you, the tuned down rock music played faintly on the radio. “I went lost, got captured by some psycho killer, whatever, but it was traceable, it always was, but this time … something’s different and it’s definitely not only a psycho killer, it’s something stronger, darker,” 

“Jolly. A demon,” you wondered aloud, Jay humming in agreement. “Mind telling me what hunt you and Sunghoon were on in Vegas before his disappearance?”

“Saw on the news about deaths in a casino, so Hoon and I decided to check it out, and guess what we found? Sulphur,” demons tend to leave sulphur around, finding sulphur basically indicated a demon’s presence, pretty basic information.

“A demon on massacre duties in a casino? I feel like this one is out for money, something to do with his greed and desire,” you speculated, unsurprised as these were common occurrences.

"Likely," Jay clicked his fingers, his eyebrows bunched together, a scheming look on his face. "Here's the thing, we were somewhat on the road to uncovering some truths, on who the real demon was, but that's when this happened, it's no coincidence that he probably took Hoonie,"

"Which means you still don't know who's the mastermind in that casino right now? Or where Sunghoon could possibly be?"

"No," he answered bitterly, his fingers strumming the steering wheel softly. "And I think the jackass jumps into different bodies working there each time, it's hard to trace,"

"Are we going around splashing holy water? How are we supposed to know whose body is being possessed?"

"We don't," he said plainly, and matter-of-factly, turning his face just enough for you to catch him winking at you. "But we do know he's a higher up, a man with a position, or maybe positions,"

"Guess it's our lucky day testing our fortune on catching demons and winning at casinos,"

"Looks just like the movies," 

Upon entering the state of Nevada at nightfall, you were welcomed with the blistering nightlife of Las Vegas, the bright lights blinding your sights and you couldn't help but be fascinated.

"Where are we heading?"

"Towards the hotel the man was murdered in," Jay nodded at one of the big and tall hotels ahead. "There's a famous casino in that hotel, lots of people constantly betting, rich and powerful men are frequently present,"

"A perfect spot for a money hungry demon,"

"Bingo," 

Jay parked his beloved car and was rather sad leaving it behind in a shabby parking lot. You knew he loved his car, sometimes clingy and attached, but he loved it a little too much. 

Grabbing your bags and a seperate one full of weapons, you and Jay headed into the hotel and towards the reception, where a bright young woman named Carrie was smiling back at you both.

"You're not going to make me spray holy water at her, right?" You said quietly in hopes of the receptionist not hearing it.

"I'm not stopping you," Jay passed you an unamused half grin.

"Hello! How may I assist you?" Carrie greeted enthusiastically, but frankly, none of you could reciprocate the same energy.

"We'd like to book two rooms please," Jay slid the card towards Carrie, hoping to get this over with quickly.

"Just two?" She glanced between you and Jay, a question mark basically floating above her head. "We have a 'couples exclusive' promotion though,"

You and Jay shared a look, turning back to the receptionist. "Two, please,"

"There's free access to the facilities and the buffet," Carrie continued on. "Oh—uhm—there's a jacuzzi here too,"

Jay turned to you, you stared back, a knowing look passed between one another, releasing sighs of displeasure.

"We'll take it,"

It would be an understatement to just say the hotel was fancy, it was more than fancy. High ceilings, marble floors, chandeliers, everything was almost in gold. You were able to catch a slight glimpse of the casino as you passed, and indeed, it was packed with people. Boy, you were about to have a time trying to find out who's the real imposter.

"I definitely spotted some sulphur just now," Jay shook his head, his eyes scanning the floor, walls and surroundings. "I think this one has minions here,"

"Amazing," you clicked your tongue, impatiently stalking through the soundless corridor in search of your designated room. You were dying to dive into your hotel bed. 

"Do you think we have enough?" Jay eyed the bag of weapons as you two stood outside your room, but just before you could answer, a stranger appeared next to you two, holding a keycard to the room next to yours.

"Oh, I'm sure it's enough," the stranger, a middle aged lady, laughed.

You glanced at Jay, a cautionary sign was understood. "W–what do you mean?" Jay chuckled nervously.

"Condoms? That's what you meant, right?" The lady snickered, and you were absolutely dumbfounded. "Just keep it down kids, it's not entirely soundproof here and I need sleep. It's nice meeting you guys!"

The lady slammed the door behind her, leaving you and Jay standing there like statues, a little confusion and surprise in the air. 

"Condoms," you echoed, shuddering slightly.

Jay turned to look at you, a pensive look in his gaze, eyebrows raised slightly. "Do you … unless—?" 

"Zip it," you hoisted the bags, opened the door and stormed in while Jay remained standing there, a defensive look replacing his previous one.

"Hey, I didn't even say it," he shouted from the outside, taking his bags from the floor.

"I know what you're trying to say, thank you! Now get your ass in here before I shut you out,"

"Yes, ma'am," Jay scrambled in and shut the door close, soon noticing your figure looming over the bed and was curious. "What's up?"

"There's only one bed," you glanced down at the king size bed, a heart formed from rose petals decorated it and you found it highly ridiculous. "And they made it romantic, how sweet,"

"You're kidding me," Jay ran his hand across his tired face, a weary sigh leaving his lips. "I'll take the couch,"

You stopped him there. "Dude, you're going to be hunting demons, I'm not letting you get backaches from a lousy couch,"

"There's no way you're sleeping on it either,"

You bit your lips, maybe sleeping on the same bed for a few nights wouldn't hurt, right? It certainly wasn't your first time with Jay anyway, but business was business, and this was far from being professional.

"Let's just share the same bed," 

Jay stared doubtfully at you, as if he couldn't believe those words had come out of your mouth. "You're up for that?"

"Do you think we have any other choices?" You crossed your arms, mirroring his pointed gaze.

"Touche," he nodded thoughtfully, dropping his bags to a corner. "Just don't kick me in my sleep,"

"I'll be happy to kick you now instead."

"Stop staring!"

Despite being tired and worn out, you and Jay dragged yourselves out from the room in hopes of some food and checked out the hotel and casino. 

The inside of the casino was bright and painted in gold, red themed colours. It was extremely busy and crowded, many were yelling in surprise and joy, while there were those in despair over losing. Jay, on the other hand, was too busy staring at by-passing girls to focus on the real purpose.

"What?" He hissed defensively, winking at another server and you rolled your eyes at his never changing behaviour.

"You can enjoy whatever you want after everything, okay? Not to be a killjoy but there's a demon here that took your brother,"

"Hey! I'm aware,"

"Sure," you mumbled sarcastically, looking around the table and observing people's faces, but you knew none of these normal citizens were possessed.

"Do you think we can meet the host or manager tonight?" Jay made sure to whisper that quietly, glancing around warily.

"You think one of them would be possessed?"

"The chances are high. Hoon and I went over to the dead man's house the other day, the wife told us he was close to the host, something by the name Sam? Sam Clerk?"

"Looking for me?"

You've never turned around so quick, your hand instinctively reached into your pocket for the small bottle of holy water, but Jay's hand stopped you discreetly, giving you one of his 'I got this' look.

"You're Sam Clerk?" Jay laughed awkwardly, playing it cool and casual.

The man before you was tall and seemingly in his mid 30s, his smile was wide and welcomingly, but there was a malevolent energy emitted from him. "Why yes, that's me. And you two are …?"

"I'm … Jack Williams," 

Sam glanced at you expectantly, and if you could dig yourself a grave then from the embarrassment, hoy would've. You cleared your throat, "I'm Stacy … Williams, he's my husband,"

You felt Jay's gaze on you, burning into your skin, but you ignored him and looped your arm around his. 

"Oh!" Sam clapped in surprise, a pleasant smile spread across his face. "You two must be new here, right? I've never seen you before,"

"Right, we are," Jay patted your hand, plastering on his most convincing smile. "That was why we wanted to find you! We heard how great of a host you were and wanted an introduction,"

"I'm pleased, but I'm a little busy tonight, so I can't assist you unfortunately," a flash of change in his eyes was barely noticeable, but you caught onto it. "But there's a charity ball we're holding in two days, I would love to invite you both to attend,"

"We'd love to," you said almost immediately.

Sam chuckled, nodding in satisfaction. "Great. I'll see you … then."

Without another word, he left in a dash, moving almost like a shadow. You unknowingly let out a shaky breath, feeling goosebumps rise. "His energy was so off,"

"I know," Jay was thinking hard, his mind working extra hours. "So, it's him … but there's definitely another one which we don't know, there's no way this would be so easy, and we also need to know where Hoon is,"

"I think I have an idea," you held onto his forearm, pulling him on and continued your walk around the casino. "I did some digging on the history behind this hotel and the casino, and it goes way back,"

"How long?"

"Centuries. It was built on a cursed ground, but they didn't care, and guess what? There were deaths here over those years too, unexplained ones. Weird, huh? But that's not the point. There's some hidden underground chamber somewhere here, built by someone from the olden days, and it's said to harbour bad energy,"

"Attracts demons,"

"Perfect hideout,"

"But why Hoon?" Jay scratched his head, eyebrows furrowed and increasingly frustrated.

"I mean, you guys were hunting the demons and they caught on. Plus, timing was bad, you happened to be out,"

"True," Jay sighed. "We should ask that Sam guy more stuff during that charity ball, and we should start doing some digging tomorrow,"

"I'll use my flirting skills and wiggle information off him," you grinned, nudging his side teasingly.

"You should use it on me instead," he grumbled noisily.

"No chance," you smiled sarcastically at him, pulling him towards the bar. "Let's just enjoy tonight and drink a little, I definitely need some before diving into … everything,"

"Get ready to drink until you fall, L/N,"

"Challenge accepted, Park."

The night faded into a blur, you and Jay somehow wandered off without one another, but stayed within the vicinity. You were drinking alone at the bar, the alcohol seemed like water to you, your tolerance coming strong. 

Jay was off at the side, leaning against the wall as he openly flirts with a random blonde girl. Laughing suavely, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his charming looks sweeping the blonde off her feet. 

You shouldn't be feeling this way, but you would be lying if you said you were indifferent to him and the girl. It was no surprise you and him had history, even on the intimate level, but to have feelings for him? That was something new you slowly came about to realise.

Onto your new glass of gin, Jay slid into the empty seat next to you, looking far from drunk. You forgot Jay had an alcohol tolerance that challenged yours, making him an interesting drinking partner to have on most nights. 

"What happened to the girl?" 

"What girl?" He craned his neck to stare off at the distance before turning back to look at you, his face inching closer to yours. "Blondie? Nah," he shook his head, a playful grin appearing on his handsome face. "Can't believe I'm saying this but are you perhaps … jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous," you pushed his face away, eliciting a humorous laugh from him. 

"I think you are," Jay said in a sing-song tone under his breath. "Rest assure, sweetheart, I never fucked anyone else ever since our last night together," he winked, taking his jacket hanging from the chair and offered you his hand, which you grudgingly accepted.

"Are you sure you're not lying to me? Park Jong Seong, the man who hunts demons and loves to fuck around hasn't been bringing girls back?" 

"Don't doubt me or my feelings here," he feigned a crying face dramatically to which you pulled a face at. “You’re seriously underestimating my feelings for you,” he said, a little seriously this time, raising his eyebrows at you before letting your hands go and leading the way back to the room, making sure to turn around to check up on you from time to time. 

You were tired by the time you’ve reached your room, changing out of your outfit into a much more comfortable one while Jay did the same in another room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that you slept next to a man, even if he was one you’ve shared a bed with once.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Jay yawned as he got under the sheets, you followed suit, shifting around for a better position. Your’s and Jay’s back faced each other, a distance obvious between you two.

“Night, Jay,” you switched the lights off, the room was dark, but you were wide awake. The unfamiliar bed had you tossing and turning, but also making an effort not to bump into Jay while doing so. 

“We haven’t done this in a while,” Jay suddenly spoke into the darkness after barely ten minutes. 

You bit back a smile, wrapping your hands tighter around yourself. “Yeah, we haven’t,”

"If I have to be honest, I miss it," you couldn't see Jay's face, only picturing it as he continued on. "I miss waking up next to you,"

"Jay …" you trailed off, heart squeezing slightly. "You know we can't,"

"I know," he repeated, a beat passed. "But what if we can?"

"You said it was too dangerous, you didn't want it,"

"I didn't say I didn't want it," he was quick to retaliate. "I want it, you know I do, but this job, this life, your life, I'll be a walking supernatural attractor,"

A short moment of silence filled the space between you and him, you let out a sigh. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to drop it for you, whether it was years ago or now, I don't think my feelings have changed. But that’s for you to accept anyway,"

Jay didn’t say anything more, your tiredness eventually brought you to sleep, unaware that he was still wide awake, turning around to glance at the back of your head, head filled with thoughts of you. Jay knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job, which meant romantic relationships and commitment were two hard things to tackle, even harder than killing supernatural things. But you were different to him. A one night together somehow turned his stone heart soft. The Park Jong Seong was truthfully in love with you. You were the angel to the devil in his heart. What’s stopping him was everything around his life, his cold demeanour, his fears.

The night melted into snores and wild dreams, the sun was soon peeking out of the horizons and sunlight streamed into your room. You were awoken by your alarm blaring by the bedside, slamming it off and trying stretching your limbs, but as you said, you tried.

Jay's arm was wrapped around your waist tightly, his body pressed against your side as its weight leaned against yours. You haven't been this intimate with him for months, and it certainly sparked something in you.

"God, Jay, wake up," you tapped his arm, trying to yank it off you, but he only retaliated by hugging your body tighter and tugging you closer to him.

"5 minutes," was all he could mumble before continuing his snores.

You scoffed, giving in with no choice. Since Jay indirectly wanted a lazy morning in, you decided it was best to call room service instead. 

"Good morning, can I order some room service?" It was an awkward position with the phone against your ear, menu in your hands and a grown man's arm draped across your abdomen.

The women on the other line coughed uncomfortably. "Good morning, miss, but room service is currently unavailable. Something happened overnight …" she drifted off and your face scrunched into an expression of confusion.

"What … happened?"

"I don't know if I should be saying this—"

"I won't complain, I swear, I just want to know," you tried to be as convincing as you could, and somehow the women complied.

"A murder happened, in the casino, again," she breathed out, a pinch of disbelief in her tone. "I think it's cursed,"

Oh, you don't say.

"Is there anyone who's hurt?"

"Other than the murdered rich tycoon, no,"

Rich tycoon, as expected.

"Got it. Be safe,"

"You too."

You placed down the phone, shaking the man beside you who only let out gruff huffs of annoyance. "Hm?" 

"Don't 'hm' me, get your ass up. We've got trouble."

Dragging a five foot ten grown man out of the bed was definitely a struggle, but in the end, it worked. After spilling the information you got earlier, he seemed content with just a cup of coffee and stormed towards the crime scene at once.

As expected, the police had surrounded the area and curious bystanders were peeking in from left and right. You and Jay slipped into the crowd, making sure to scan the area as much as you could, and as expected, traces of sulphur. 

"Another one bites the dust, huh?" Jay hummed as you two roamed around the hotel aimlessly, unable to do much more but laying low since police officers were still around.

"Have you ever thought about there being more than one demon here?"

"Yeah, that guy we met with his demon minions, duh—"

"Forget about the minions, let's think about the powerful ones," you bite your lips thoughtfully. "Remember this hotel being built centuries ago?"

"Yeah?"

"Two brothers owned it. One was the head of everything while the other managed the casino mostly," you said, glancing around. "Ring a bell? I'm pretty sure the guy's just a vessel, they were the ones working here before they got possessed, the demon's in those bodies,"

"You're a genius," Jay gasped, coming to realisation as he pieced it one by one.

"Now, I think I also got a faint idea of the secret dungeon. Their office,"

"Any history lesson?"

"No, just a blind guess, but my sixth sense told me so and you know how trustable my sixth sense is,"

"It sure is," Jay nodded in agreement, proven by your skills in previous hunts. "Should we break into it?"

"Are you crazy? You're walking into hell," you knew it was no secret how impulsive he was, which explained why you were there in the first place. "I reckon we strike during the charity ball,"

"But how are we going to identify the other brother first?"

"Oh, speaking of the devil," you nodded over at the crime scene that was now a distance away. Two men appeared, one was Sam, and the other was someone you've never seen before, but strangely held a resemblance to Sam.

They possessed brothers? You're joking.

"That must be the man of the hour," Jay whistled, eyeing the two men conversing with the officers. The man was taller than Sam, older looking and had a similar friendly face to him that also seemed intimidating.

"They're leaving," the two brothers bid farewell to the officers, watching them leave before turning around and walking away themselves. Jay and his impulsiveness just had to strike again. "Let's follow them,"

"Huh?"

Before you fully register Jay's words, that fucker pulled you by the wrist and started sprinting off into the direction the demon brothers were heading. If you could sock Jay in the jaw at that moment, you would've.

"Are you trying to get us killed?" You hissed quiet enough to not blow your cover, following the brothers a short distance away as they headed towards their office.

"Trying not to, but shush, we need to hear what they're saying,"

The brother stopped just before the door to their office, you and Jay followed suit, your body almost crashing into him from the abrupt halt. Jay dragged you into a dingy closet packed with cleaning supplies, great, and there was barely any room to move, let alone take a step back, and thus you found yourself in a compromising position.

Jay glanced down at you, a smirk etched on his face. "Not our first time, huh—"

"One word and you're not making it out alive, now hush and listen," you glared at him, effectively shutting him up but failed at wiping off his smug smile.

From the other side of the door, you heard shuffling and the voice of Sam Clerck. "But John—"

Jay's eyes widened, and you knew what he meant, there was a name. 

"—the amount of killing is making this whole thing suspicious to the mortals,"

"It's annoying that you're calling me 'John'," the latter spat. 

"It's not my fault that's the name of the original bodies. Fine, Elijah, don't you think we should rest on the killings for the moment,"

"What? Elliot, here's no way we're doing that, look at the fortune we're making,"

"Mind you, we have a possible hunter captured in the office's dungeon, what are we doing with him? Oh, there's probably other hunters coming as well now that they've slowly caught onto us,"

"Brother, stop overthinking and fretting," Elijah, the presumed older brother, sighed. "We could use him as a sacrifice—"

You clamped a hand over Jay's mouth, knowing him too well that he would let out noises and maybe burst out the door, but there was no way you're letting him do either of those.

"Or just kill him. We've been treating him well with food, excluding the fact that there's no sunlight," 

"We'll see how it goes, underground or not, another killing is too risky," 

"Whatever,"

You heard the door click shut, the two brothers already entered their office. Jay licked your hand and you reacted at once, shooting him a disgusted expression and opening the door, a gush of fresh air filled your lungs and you're no longer pressed against Jay, hooray!

"You heard that? They're going to serve my brother up on a platter or just directly cook him into a meat skewer,"

You pushed Jay to move along, avoiding the risk of getting caught. "We know he's in the office now, and there's definitely a way to get him out, can you try being hopeful for once?"

"It's Hoon we're talking about, so no,"

"Look, Elijah and Elliot, they're the Vamson brothers,"

"Who?"

"They're the original owners of this hotel and they got executed from murder cases. Explains why they knew the dungeon and all,"

"What do we do now?"

"Not 'now', tomorrow," you grinned, a plan brewing in mind. "We're splitting them up,"

The day consisted of you and Jay running around as inconspicuous as you could manage. The plan was slowly forming over a glass of whiskey. Jay would be onto distracting 'Sam' while you get closer to 'John', getting him to bring you back to his office and free Sunghoon by locating the dungeon.

"Must you really flirt with him?" Jay grumbled as he sipped on his glass.

"Is it your turn to be jealous now?"

"Yeah," Jay nodded straightforwardly, catching you a little off guard. "Pains me seeing you flirt with someone other than me,"

You rolled your eyes, playing it off nonchalant and casual, but internally? Your heart was doing backflips. "It's not actual flirting anyway, you dramatic ass,"

He let out a small, humorous laugh. "I know," he hummed. "But I just don't like seeing others with my girl,"

"I don't belong to you, Jay," you raised your eyebrows, playing around with your glass, heartbeat gradually increasing.

"You've been mine since the day you let me touch you," he said almost so nonchalantly that it gave you a whiplash. His words were unexpected, and it certainly stirred something in you. 

"You're insane," you scoffed, completely hiding the fact that you were secretly blushing.

He simply shrugged. "Anyway, I'd like to catch some air outside, you coming?"

"Will you be smoking?"

"I quit that shit a while ago,"

You smiled at that. "Good. But nah, you can go on without me, but come back once you're done, I don't feel safe,"

"Obviously, I'm not leaving you alone," Jay carrassed your arm slightly, a small reassuring look present in his gaze. 

"Got your gun? Knife? Weapons—?"

"Chill, Y/N, I'm only going out for a while,"

"Knowing you, you're going to get into trouble,"

Jay winked, his usual playful grin on display. "You bet,"

To prove you absolutely right, he did.

Upon returning, you felt an odd shift in Jay's energy. As much as you were in denial, you knew your sixth sense was always, forever right, gut feelings never lie.

He started off normal, but then he got all … how could you put it? Sexy? Seducing? Sensual? Definitely not Park Jong Seong's normal way of seducing someone, knowing it very well especially since you were a victim to his seductions.

You played along, pretending stupid, and it gave you enough time to deduce that he was possessed. Demons that stormed the hotel got to him in the end and you had to be the one to clean the mess up? Unbelievable. 

Now, here you were, in his lap back in your hotel room, making out. You heard that right. 

His hands tugged your hair, yours wandered his body, lips moving passionately against one another, you had to remind yourself that this WASN'T him! 

You broke the kiss, heaving slightly as you reached for the small flask on your bedside table, a plan already in your mind. "Gosh, let me take a sip, want some?"

Jay—or demon Jay—nodded at the flask in your hand with some interest. "What's in there?"

"Whiskey, your favourite," you lied cunningly through your teeth.

"I'll have some," 

You passed it to Jay, watching his every move, from him taking the flask, holding it up to his lips, to downing the contents into his mouth, then a loud scream broke out from him.

"Holy water," you clicked your tongue. "And you're so not Jay," 

You threw yourself away from him, backing away from the bed. Jay turned to you sharply, piercingly glaring at you, his eyes turned fully black, leaving no whites. Oh yeah, hundred percent possessed. 

He tried charging at you, but he then hit an invisible barrier. No matter how much he lunged and punched, he was stuck, and never escaping.

"Devil's trap, whoops," it was a precaution you took, drawing a sigil trap under the bed that was designed specially to trap demons, and there was no way out unless the circle was broken. It was great luck you got the demon twisted around your finger to have him follow you into bed. "Now, what's your business? Why are you possessing him?"

"You don't want to continue doing what you're doing here," he seethed out.

"I've got someone to save,"

He cackled with a look of disdain. "You humans are so weak minded and hero wannabes. How about you save yourself and forget about the guy? You don't know who you're dealing with or what you're even doing,"

"Oh, I don't?" You pulled the bedside table's drawer open, your trusty notebook was tucked inside and you snatched it out, showing it gloriously. "Look at this!"

"A stupid little notebook? You're not scaring me,"

"Are you sure? What if I told you there were some verses in here? You know, those types of verses, the ones that can make you go away. What if I start reciting some verses?" You taunted, your innocent smile riled him further.

"Come on then," he poked, challenging you. 

"Seriously? I'm giving you choices and time before I send you back to hell. I'm really kind,"

Jay gulped, despite all that, he remained a confident front and a cocky look. "Your stupid chantings won't work on me,"

"A low level demon like you telling me what I know and don't know? Please, save some talk and let me show you what I'm best at," you flipped open your notebook, following the usual ritual and started the latin incantations.

Jay stirred, yelling out and his body shuddered. As your chantings got louder and more aggressive, the demon from within seemed to be fighting to escape. Finally, with one last verse, Jay's mouth opened and a flight of black smoke escaped from within and dissolved back to, hopefully, hell.

"Fuck," you ran towards the bed as you saw his body going limp, getting there just in time for his body to fall into your arms heavily. "I got you, Jay, you're okay,"

"Huh?" His eyes were half opened, looking worse than a drunk. 

"Get some rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow. You need it."

"I got possessed, then we made out, and you exorcised me?"

"That was about it,"

It was the next morning, room service thankfully available now and you were having breakfast in bed with Jay as you poured over the happenings of the crazy night. Of course, Jay was having difficulties swallowing his food as he had zero recollections whatsoever, blacking out the moment the demon entered his body. 

"So … we made out?"

"Seriously? Is that the important part to you?"

"We never did for months and the demon got to do it with you? This is trippy and I'm salty," he huffed, chewing on his sunny side egg sadly. "Anyway, did the demon say anything?"

"Right, he did. Something about how we shouldn't be doing what we're doing now, like a warning I think,"

"Eh, typical demon bullshit, they always get into your minds and spit some mind boggling ass words to get you all worked up. It's nothing,"

You were unconvinced, crossing your arms nervously. "You don't actually think there's something wrong, right? Something bigger than we think?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he shrugged, uncertainty lingered in his words. "Either way, we have bigger problems. Tonight, the charity ball, saving Hoonie,"

"You're right."

Running around the streets looking for some gown to buy was harder than expected. Buying it rather than renting was a stupid choice, a dumb and expensive one. But what could you do? You're probably going to rip it up anyway. Not in that manner.

The day was soon coming to an end. Earlier on, the two of you made sure to have your bags packed and ready, dumping them into the car in advance. God knows what's happening after the event, all you knew was that you're probably not stepping foot back into the hotel room again.

"Are you done?" Jay shouted from the other room as you finished some final touch ups.

"Can you wait for a second? Jeez!"

You burst open the door, meeting Jay's gaze at once. He was dressed handsomely in a suit, a plain black suit that hugged his muscles and body in a perfect way as if it was tailored for him.

As for you, you were in a simple floor length black gown, one with two surprises: an open back and a thigh slit. You weren't a big fan but it is what it is. It was likely made out of some cheap silk and half assed production, but this happened to be your only option. 

"Fucking hell," he whistled under his breath, his eyes swept your figure from top to bottom and back to the top again to lock his gaze with yours. "Wow. You look amazing, more than amazing actually,"

He took a step, and another, until he was directly in front of you, face to face. "Is it okay if I touch you?" He whispered under his breath, something flashing in those brown irises. 

"Yeah,"

His hand slithered around your waist, tugging you forward into his chest, eyes widened as it caught you by surprise. Being this close to him had you thinking of yesterday. Despite the fact that he was possessed, it was physically still him, meaning you did kiss him, and God, he missed him and his lips.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Yesterday,"

"That demon got you hooked?"

"You're annoying. I mean, kissing you," you faltered towards the end, gradually getting flustered. 

"Would you like to recreate that?" Jay jokingly leaned in and you pushed his face away, laughing slightly.

"We don't have the time to, idiot,"

Jay shook his head, a small smile adorned his pretty features. "After all this … maybe we should talk it out. About us. Just you and I,"

"Definitely," you nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "We should leave too, it's time," 

"You're right," he sighed, obvious disappointment in his voice as he glanced down at his wristwatch. "Let's go," he slowly let his hold of you go, but his hand remained around your waist as you two walked side by side.

That cheeky bastard's hands gradually travelled lower and lower as you walked, teasing you until it reached your lower back. Your head snapped over to give him a questioning glance, to which he reciprocated with a shrug.

"Hands up—" you moved his hands from your lower back back to your waist, eyes glaring at him, "—here,"

"You weren't complaining the last time we fucked,"

"Over a year back,"

"What do you say we relive that tonight, huh?"

"You're such a sleazebag. Oh, manwhore, and what else?"

"Dickhead, handsome jerk," 

"Okay, whatever you say, dickhead handsome jerk," you snickered sarcastically before dragging him towards the main area, making sure to not trip over your gown. 

The hotel was bustling with guests from all over the world, being the busiest it has been as staff ran around frantically. The night has yet to begin and people were already gambling their minds off while drinking expensive champagne served by frantic servers. 

You looked around, noticing Sam, or Elliot in actuality, conversing with someone, his brother was nowhere in sight … yet. 

"Distract him, okay?" You whispered hastily into Jay's ears as you saw the man waving over at you two, possibly coming over once he's done with the guy he's talking to. "I'll try to be within hindsight, but listen to me, if I'm not back by the two hour mark, you come to the office and find me. You have the gun, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Good. I'm going to try and get Sunghoon out, but I've only got so much,"

"I'll be there, okay? I won't leave you,"

You nodded at his words, feeling his hand squeeze your arm tightly. The anxiety was pushing past its limits and you were praying everything to run your way. The moment Sam moved over to you and Jay, you exchanged friendly greetings and pretended to be interested in whatever he's trying to yap about. As he did so, Jay slowly whisked him away, luring him for a talk over some drinks. One thing Jay's excellent at was talking, and you sure hoped his charms were enough to keep the little brother at bay.

After some more digging, you found out John, aka Elijah, mostly hung around the bar area and observed his customers. Interesting man. Lo and behold, the theories were right and he was actually there, all alone, an easy target.

"Not here to gamble?" You slid by his side casually, sitting in an empty seat just a fraction of a distance in between.

"I like to sit and observe a little," he hummed, taking a sip out of his glass. "And you are?"

"Stacy Williams,"

"I'm John Clerk,"

Ironic that you two were actually lying about yourselves to each other. 

"Owner of this place I believe?"

"It's true," he raised his glass up, quirking his eyebrows.

"Beautiful casino and hotel, by the way," you said sweetly, putting on your most convincing smile.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly. Not much of a conversationalist, huh? Maybe this was your time to strike. 

"Mr Clerk, I'm sorry but is there any way I can get a short rest around here? I'm feeling a little light headed and I just wish to lie down for a while,"

The man before you remained stoic, but you could tell he was internally scrambling for ideas in his mind, and you certainly didn't miss the way he gulped. To add extra pressure onto him, you started staring at him expectantly.

"Well—uhm—there's a sofa in my office," he suggested, though reluctantly.

"That'll be great if you don't mind, I'm sorry for the trouble,"

"No worries, Miss Williams," he assured. "I'll lead you there," he got off his seat and slowly took the lead, you following behind. As you gradually made your out of the vicinity, you spotted Jay, giving him a small nod before disappearing from his sight entirely.

He took the same path you and Jay had done during the time you two snuck around the demon brothers office, except this time, you would be entering into the office.

"Here you go, the sofa's all yours," he opened the door for you, leading you into his large office and pointed at the black coloured sofa in the corner. For a murderous, plotting demon, you didn't expect him or his interior to be so simple and minimal. "Would you like anything else?"

"A drink, maybe water or something refreshing will do,"

He nodded before closing the door shut, and you could tell he was worried about leaving you alone. Not because it's dangerous for you to be by yourself, but instead, he's paranoid about his typical demon doings and that dungeon.

Speaking of the dungeon, you had no idea where it was. Upon arriving, you checked for surveillance cameras, there were none thankfully, as for the dungeon you noticed nothing, even after squinting and looking around the room for some dodgy button. What a cunning demon! Time was ticking and you were racing against time.

"Wait…" you read about some theories about the whereabouts of the entrance to the dungeon, so now, you finally had the chance to test it out.

Locking the door and making up a quick lie was easy. But searching for some clues around the room wasn't. It got to a frustrating point of testing out the stupid theories where you ended up failing. There was one more for the test: the bookshelves.

Stories mentioned John being a complete book nerd, his belongings would be chucked in between books and somewhere behind the shelves, it would totally make sense the bookshelves in his office to have some hidden functions. You tried pushing it, punching it, but it wouldn't budge.

Sighing in almost defeat, you found yourself eyeing the books instead, judging the titles and spotting an odd one, reaching out for a grab. That was when everything changed. A small pull had triggered the book shelf to raise itself off of the ground and into the wall, revealing stairs going underground. Bingo.

You defied the laws of horror movies by going down the dark stairway, quietly calling out for any signs of life. Once you descended the remaining steps, you were met with dimly lit torches, chains hanging on the wall. This did look very anciently built, replicating those tacky dungeons in movies.

It was a large underground cave, so it wasn't hard to spot Sunghoon sitting in one corner, his hand chained to the wall and he himself had dozed off. 

You made your way there, your heels clicking against the hard floor but Sunghoon never woke from it. You kneeled beside him, noticing the fatigue in his expressions, looking overly worn out, attire soiled and seemingly hurt.

"Sunghoon!" You hissed, shaking him awake. There's no way you're attempting to carry him out while he's unconscious.

"Huh—what—who—" he slowly blinked, startled at the unfamiliar voice. His gaze was on you, his eyes blinking rapidly to rid of the haziness, then he finally registered that it was you talking. "Wait—Y/N?"

"You got that right. Is there a key around here?" 

"What are you doing here?"

"We have no time for that! Is there a key or not?" You hissed, trying to strain your ears in order to determine if he's returned or not. Hopefully the guests were keeping him busy in the meantime.

"There is, it's somewhere in the small cupboard there," he nodded over at said cupboard that you hadn't noticed. 

Say less, you practically jumped to your feet and bolted over to the small cupboard, pulled it open and the key was there. Tada! It was foolish that it was out in the open like that, but considering the fact they probably didn't expect anyone else to come down here, it was pretty valid.

Being the more thorough person you were, you checked the remaining drawers in case of any dangerous objects. Instead, you found some weapons here and there, so you tossed some over to Sunghoon before unlocking his chain. He winced the moment his wrist found freedom, rubbing it sorely. But there's not enough time, you need him out.

"Park, listen close to me," you tucked some of the knives into the garter belt around your thigh, handing Sunghoon one of the guns found in the drawer. "Your brother is here—"

"Jay?"

"Yes, now hush and actually listen, alright? The demon that captured you is coming back soon, and you're escaping before he does,"

"What about you?"

"I'll hold out as long as I can. Once you find Jay, tell him to come 'fetch' me or whatever excuse he could form. If shit goes sour, I don't think I can handle him alone,"

Sunghoon nodded as he took your words in carefully. There was limited time left, you needed to get out of the dungeon and shut it. 

You helped Sunghoon up and had him lean his weight into you as you guided him up the stairs. To say you were struggling and having breathing difficulties was an understatement. He better treat you to some good food for saving his ass after this.

He fell onto the sofa you were resting on earlier as you scrambled to shut the entrance by pushing the book back in. The entrance to the dungeon closed to a shut, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Now that you got Sunghoon out, there's bigger problems to face. 

"Are you able to walk?"

Sunghoon grunted, stretching and massaging his legs. "I can … I think,"

"You think?" His words weren't completely reassuring. 

"I'll manage," he gritted out, but his gaze softened. "I'm only worried about you,"

"You don't think I can handle him?"

"No, not that. You're an amazing hunter, of course, but this guy—demon—he's not some low ranking one. Not some simple exorcism can cast him back to hell,"

"I know, that's why Jay's got the gun,"

"He brought the colt along?"

The colt wasn't just a normal revolver, it was the supernatural revolver. Built to kill everything and anything. No supernatural beings were able to escape the wrath of the bullet. Who else better to use it on than some powerful demons?

"He's crazy," Sunghoon breathed out after you nodded as a response to his question. 

"He's just being careful. Plus, we do need it now anyway,"  

Sunghoon blinked, leaning back a little with an odd expression, his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh wow, did you guys…?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, you have this look and I figured something … sparked between you and him again,"

You pressed your lips into a flat line, blinking wordlessly at him. Even he could tell you and Jay were having something?

"Let's talk about this later," you patted his shoulder, nodding towards the door. "You should definitely leave now,"

Knock knock.

"Miss Williams? Are you alright? Why is the door locked?"

You met Sunghoon's gaze, and the one thing you've managed to understand in his stare was 'we're fucked'. 

"I'm—I'm not doing well," 

"What's happened? Let me in,"

"No!" You bursted out, which sounded worse than expected. "I mean, no, I got m–my period, and I'm embarrassed to come out,"

"Oh," the man on the other side of the door seemed shocked to say the least. "I'll go get you some pads, Miss Williams,"

"Thank you,"

Pressing your ears onto the door, you heard his footsteps getting further away, finally able to let out the breath you've been holding in for too long. You turned to Sunghoon, grabbing his arm.

"You know, for a demon, he's actually quite a gentleman,"

"Keeping me in his stupid dusty dungeon surely isn't a gentleman's move," he said bitterly as he got up, limping slightly. "You'll be okay, right?"

"No promises,"

"I'll be quick, I'm going to get Jay here. You saved my ass, I'm making sure I save yours," he placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"I trust you," you patted his hand. "Now, go,"

Sunghoon nodded, though quite reluctantly leaving as he didn't wish to have you all alone in a demon's threshold. You exchanged a brief look with him before he slipped out of the door completely, and you prayed he made it out successfully without any complications in between.

Minutes later, you heard knocks on the door once again, which meant John was back. Bracing yourself, you turned the door open, revealing him and some pads in his hands. "Here,"

"Thanks, I'll—uh—go to the restroom,"

"You're not actually on your period, are you?" His words cut like knives, sharp and certain.

"Are you doubting my knowledge of my own body?" 

"No, I'm not," he said flatly, shutting the door behind him and stepping closer. "One thing I know for sure is that you're not welcomed here … hunter," in one blink, his eyes turned black entirely, just like the time Jay was possessed.

"I'm only here for a shortstop, nothing else … Elijah," you kept your cool on the outside, but internally? You were fighting the horrors. He seemed surprised that you mentioned his actual name, but that didn't bother him.

"Oh yeah? Tell your buddies to stop coming after me,"

"How about you stop killing people?" 

Your retaliation didn't help your case as it only agitated him. With a  swift move of a hand, he had you pushed to the bookshelves, pinning you on there with an invisible force. No matter how you tried resisting it, you couldn't break free from the forceful hold.

"You won't understand. You humans don't," he seethed out, getting closer and closer. "You would be a great sacrifice as well,"

"Fuck you,"

Wrong choices of words. A force was wrapped around your throat and in the next second, it was constricting. Dying from getting choked by a demon wasn't on your list of dumb ways to die.

You swore you were seeing the lights of the afterlife until something intervened. Gunshots sounded suddenly, loud and clear and almost everywhere, a mix of shouts rang through. Chaos was happening. 

John, or Elijah, heard the commotion outside and was taken off guard from it, his hold loosening and you were able to breathe just a little bit more. His head turned back to you, then to the door, seemingly conflicted at the two troubles on hand. 

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "For fuck's sake," he released his hold on you, resulting in you dropping to the ground in coughing fits. You take it back about him being a gentleman. "You're so dead when I come back,"

You could only glare at him and his figure as he exited through the door, but then you heard the sound of a click. No, no, no. You rushed to the door, trying to yank it open, but to your worst fears, he actually locked the door.

Jay was coming to find you, right? Doubts continuously fill your mind against your will. It pained you knowing you're stuck here all helpless, unaware whether Jay and Sunghoon were doing well or not. You could only hope for the best and not the worst.

What seemed like forever was you being trapped in this office. The books on the shelves didn't entertain you, the pictures of the actual Sam only made you sad knowing his body was being possessed by a demon. All in all, you were rotting in here. 

That was until you heard grunts and some gunshots not far away, heavy footsteps thudding down the corridor. Shouts rang through the empty and quiet surroundings, your heart thrashing wildly against your chest in anxiety. There was no mistake in what you heard next. It was your name, your name was yelled.

"Y/N!" Jay's voice was hoarse as he called for you over and over. 

"Jay?" You pounded on the door, shaking the doorknob that wouldn't budge. 

The footsteps got closer and his voice got nearer until he was eventually standing directly on the other side of the door. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"I am," you nearly sobbed, wanting to break free and escape the office. "Jay, the door's locked,"

"You've got to be kidding me. I killed that fucker and never asked for the keys," Jay pounded at the door in irritation. "Y/N, step away, I'm going to break this fucking door down," 

You got away from the door, backing away to your previous spot at the bookshelves and crouching down. After a split second, you heard a gunshot, the doorknob rattled and loosened, but that didn't take the cake. Jay grunted, having to go for busting down the door instead.

A few kicks to the door had loosened the handles, you could hear Jay putting his whole effort into busting down the door with his kicks and the way he threw his body to the door. It was almost a while before he finally knocked the door down completely, revealing a overly worn out Jay. 

He was injured, cuts on his face, arm bleeding and his fancy suit torn at some places. Despite all that, his eyes lit up the moment they landed on your figure crouched by the bookshelves. He rushed over with speed that resembled the Flash, immediately dropping down to his knees to match your position.

"Are you alright? You're not hurt right?" His hands were on your shoulder, turning you slightly to check for any visible changes. 

You didn't say anything yet, just feeling glad that he's here now, safe and sound. Almost instinctively, your arms reached out and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"I got you, I'm here now, nothing's going to hurt you," Jay caressed the back of your head, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. 

"I'm glad you're fine too," you slowly pulled away after a few moments, your hands cupping his cheek. "You do look really busted though,"

He scoffed, lips gradually stretched into a grin. "You'll be the one patching me up later,"

"What happened out there?"

"I killed them," he said hoarsely, his touch never leaving yours. "Little brother Elliot attacked me first after he revealed himself, then everyone ran away. I took my chance and blasted him. Sunghoon showed up not long after and that's when Elijah appeared. We managed to kill him, sent their souls back to hell,"

"That's great," 

"Did he … do anything out of line?"

"Other than choking me and saying he'll kill me? Not really," 

"He's a fucking bastard," Jay cursed, wincing slightly from the cut on his lips.

"Should we leave? The police is arriving soon, no?" You slowly got up, supporting Jay as well.

"We really should. I don't need the police on my ass again,"

"Hey guys—" Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, sweating and heaving, but once he saw the two of you together, hands around each other, his face morphed into a teasing smirk. "Am I interupting?"

You and Jay simultaneously let out a cough, facing away from one another.

"Are the polices on their way?"

"They are," Sunghoon replied hastily, ushering you two to come forward and leave the office. "I've cleaned our traces as much as I could. Now, we should just leave while people are hiding,"

"Did the bodies make it? The original Sam and John," you asked.

"No," the Park brothers answered in unison, and the three of you continued your way to the carpark in silence. It was saddening to hear that the bodies of Sam and John didn't make it, the dull atmosphere ended up befalling between you all.

"So," Jay started once you were all in the car, revving his car to a start. "Want some celebratory burgers along the way?"

"Say less."

"Ouch,"

After a long gruelling trip back to your house, Sunghoon ended up passing out in the guest room's bed, leaving you and Jay alone in the middle of your living room, where you were cleaning his injury wounds.

"I'm trying to be as gentle as I can," Your eyes flickered, wrapping his arm up and cleaning some tiny wounds. "Are you leaving after this? Go on your journey wherever supernatural cases appear like always?"

"I am," Jay said, and somewhere internally, you felt your soul crush. "But I'm staying a little longer here," 

"What?" Your mouth almost fell to the ground from the shock, unintentionally applying more pressure to the wound which made Jay wince, and you uttered a small apology, an unknowing smile forming on your lips. "You're serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You know how I said I wanted to have a talk after we got back, so here we are. I know our job is … complicated, but my feelings for you never changed over the years. It just took me a shit long time to come to my senses," Jay took a breath in. 

"I know I've hurt you before, and I'm going to have to gain your trust back first. But I hope you'll give me a chance, and let me bring you out on a date or two over these few days,"

"You're giving 'us' a shot?"

"I am,"

You were giddy to say the least, resisting the urge to break into the biggest, lovesick smile. "I'd really love to go out on that date with you,"

"Really?" Jay seemed like he couldn't believe you actually would agree, the evident shock in his face made you laugh.

"Yes, really, you idiot. Are you going to kiss me or something now?"

"I definitely am,"

Jay's calloused fingers wrapped around your chin softly, pulling you in and crashed his lips against yours. It wasn't your first time kissing him, but this was different. Desperation, endless pining that was bottled over the years finally burst and welled over, his lips moved against yours with so much fever and intensity, it had you going insane.

Jay pulled you into his lap, your arms falling over his shoulders for support while his hand travelled from your neck to your cheek before making its way into your hair. You could feel him smirking against your lips, his other hand moving down to your waist to tug you closer to his chest, having you totally pressed up against him.

"J–Jay," before he could take it to another level, you registered that it was your living room, and Sunghoon was in the house as well, which meant the possibility of him walking in was there. "Should we move it into … the room instead?"

Jay knew what you meant, his gaze changing almost instantly, something told you that you were in for it tonight. "Oh you're nasty," he suddenly carried you in bridal style, making you yelp out in surprise and scrambling for support.

The night was going to be long, but it didn't matter anymore now that you've got to have him for a few days and nights all to yourself. Killing supernatural beings was a headache, an ill fated string tied to you, but in the end, you couldn't deny it had brought you and Jay together again. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise after all.

taglist: @aerxz @asyleums @dimplewonie @yizhoutv

[fanfic-obsessed]

Well Technically...

It is not often that I get an idea that includes Vader (with the genocide and horror that is implied) that makes me giggle.  This however made me giggle. 

So Vader returns to the light right before he dies and comes back as Anakin the Force ghost.  Now despite what it appears this is not a kindness.  Anakin spends decades following his kids and the galaxy at large watching how little his existence mattered (galactically Anakin Skywalker was barely more than a recognizable name, and even that was diminishing as the people who knew of the ‘hero without fear’ died off; Vader would be forgotten even more quickly because no one wanted to remember him) even as he saw the long term consequences of his life (Luke’s struggle with his own identity-both as a man and a Jedi-, Leia’s struggle with her ancestry-finding out that your blood father killed all your other available parents was not a good feeling, Reva healing from the trauma he directly caused, all the ways that Ahsoka had to reshape her own soul to patch the holes Anakin put there, the echoes of the clones that died at his hand and command and the horror of the ones that survived). He has to watch his grandson not only make his mistakes but somehow make them worse, which was something that he did not know was possible. We get all the way through the the sequels, with a heavy emphasis on Anakin watching how the consequences of his actions (particularly the slaughter of the Jedi but many of the the things he did both during the empire and during the war) while acknowledging that he is not even remembered enough to be cursed, how the galaxy has spun on, not just without him but in spite of him and he is not even a footnote. 

After Palpatine’s final, for now, death, Anakin is approached (for lack of a better term) by something shaped like Obi Wan Kenobi, circa the beginning of the clone wars. When this being speaks, it speaks with two voices at once, the Daughter and the Son. It asks if he could go back to before his Fall and change things, would he.

Anakin is sure he would, there are so many things he would do differently. 

The being says that it can send him back to just before his tipping point, where his Fall and all the evil he did became inevitable, but cannot send him back further than that.  Anakin agrees. Just before he sent back the being tells him that should his Fall become inevitable again, they would shred his mind and soul and it would be more excruciating than any pain he had ever experienced. 

Anakin, who had spent 20 years in agony, now had one(1) fear. 

Anakin “closed” his eyes in the Force, wondering when he would be sent back to (Killing Padme, Marching on the Temple, Believing Palpatine over Fives) only to open his eyes as his mother took her last breath. He was back on Tatooine, in the Tusken camp. 

Anakin was confused, this was the point of no return? He had not even thought about the Tusken camp in decades, had not truly considered them at all since Padme absolved him of their slaughter.

But this was also an Anakin that had spent decades in pain, and then decades observing. He was much more patient, by necessity if  not choice, less likely to act on violent impulse then the last time. Also the majority of his rage died in a cloud of lightning with the Emperor.  Instead of killing the Tuskens in a rage, he wept over his mother’s body in the grief he denied himself the first time. The reaction surprises the Tuskens so much (due both to the nature of Tatooine and the animosity between them and the moisture farmers they had not seen human tears of grief before) that they let Anakin take the body and leave. 

They still bury Shmi and go to rescue Obi Wan (though it does not end in a marriage this time). The War still starts but Anakin is also running around trying to fix things, including himself (and actually doing all the actual emotional work on figuring out and fixing his own issues), meditating (Frankly Obi Wan is starting to be concerned that anakin is possessed), trying to not kill anyone (because he really isn't sure what the tipping point about the Tuskens was and does not want to risk it), get the chips discovered in such a way that they do not tip off the Sith (He brings a few clones, including Fives to the temple to Spar and 'accidentally' hits Fives hard enough to knock him out and pracitcally forces Master Che do a deep enough scan), make a list of the people he killed to try and do something nice for them. At some point he decides his ‘penance’ for his life as Vader was that he would somehow bring all the currently known Sith back to the Light (including Palpatine).

In the Force, the Daughter is watching all this, her head in her hand repeating over and over ‘The point of no return was murdering children, you moron. All you have to do is not murder children’. And everything he is doing works towards that goal, but she doesn’t expect him to fix the universe (in my head it is a bit akin to asking someone to tell you an equation that use 2 and equals 4, expecting 2+2 or 2*2 but instead them confidently saying((2xSqRt(100))-40+36)/4)

The Son is watching this all with Force popcorn, this is the most entertaining thing to happen in ages. 

It is important to note that the Dark in this does not mean Evil. It means selfish, which is not the same thing.  You can be a selfish dick and still not be evil.  Mostly in this case it means that for those that inhabit the dark their priority is 1)Their own wants and needs; 2)The needs of the people they like, as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them; 3) The wants or needs of others if it benefits them in some way.  The Son was bored by what the Empire did to the Force, and he found having the Light there (and everything Anakin was doing) entertaining. 

I just keep picturing the Daughter, in the Force, exasperated with Anakin because, yes everything he is doing is good for him and the galaxy but his ONLY job is ‘don’t murder children’ and it never even occurs to Anakin that that was the only act he needed to avoid. 

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #20

(#) = Notes at the end of post

(*) = Other ideas relating to the prompt

✦

To Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Jason stayed dead for about six months before he was resurrected. That left his spirit plenty of time to fully manifest in the ghost zone, but time flows a little weird in the Infinite Realms so it feels like he's been dead a lot longer.

Regardless, six months is enough time for him to make plenty of friends and enemies alike. Enough to fall head over heals for the white-haired boy named Danny who just so happens to also be his king. Enough time for Jason and Danny to finally confess their feelings for each other and form a relationship. Enough time for them to grow to adore each other down to their very cores. Enough time for Jason to become the King's consort and earn the title of Prince of the Infinite Realms.

Not enough time, however, when Jason's spirit is unwillingly dragged back to the broken husk of his body buried in a coffin six feet under. Not enough time when the sheer amount of trauma his body and mind suffered causes his memories of the afterlife to sift out like grains of sand through a colander, mindless in his continued existence and search for a man named Bruce that he only half recalls.

Not enough time for when his body is stolen and dunked into the foulist pools of ectoplasm to ever surface in the living world and he comes back with unbridled rage he only half understands. Where is he? Where was he? Why does green flood his vision? Something is missing but why can't he remember? He shouldn't be here. Why was he here?? (1)

Jason tries to navigate his way through the world he'd previously left behind and discovers what happened after his death. The Joker was still alive. Another child was running around in a traffic light costume in the dead of night. Bruce had replaced him, seeming to forget he ever existed and the consequences of training a child to be a vigilante. That just won't do. He cries. He rages. He plans.

Meanwhile, the King of the Infinite Realms is apocalyptic over the fact that his lover was ripped from his arms, their kingdom, their home. He can sense Jason's torment like echoes in a cave. Can sense when his body enters the fringes of his territory when dunked into the toxic Lazarus waters created by the previous king. How dare they taint his lover's spirit with such filth?! Danny's core rears its head, chanting, growling to protect his soulmate.

Danny is beyond unhappy and he's about to make it everyone's problem.

✦

Notes:

(1) Jason forgets everything he experienced in the afterlife with Danny and is even more confused than he previously would have been when resurrected. Memories only come back to him in bits and pieces when he comes into contact with beings of the supernatural and Danny himself or possibly when he sleeps.

(*) I believe an interesting way to show the events and progression for this prompt would be to switch back and forth between the current events of Under the Red Hood/Phantom's anger and the days they spent together in the Infinite Realms before they were literally torn away from each other. Either as standalone info or through the dreams Jason has as he sleeps but doesn't remember when he wakes.

The events of Under the Red Hood still happen, there's just the question of where he even was for the six months that he was dead added into the equation. Dead on Main tossed in there for flair, because why not? Been seeing a lot of "Jason becomes Danny's Fright Knight" fics, but I wanna see one where they're literally just a royal couple who rule the Infinite Realms with a just and fair hand.

[findmeinthefallair]

The contrast is so poignant when it comes to Belos isolating Hunter for years and instilling the fear of wild magic, versus Hunter's future in carving palismen to connect with nature and with others.

We have his signature gloves as part of all his outfits before he went to the human realm, representative of that isolation and fear: Belos wanting to keep 'Caleb' to himself, wanting to prevent Hunter from forging connections and thus finding freedom. The gloves come off once Hunter has room to create and experiment and explore.

During the many many months in between him beginning to learn the palismen-carving craft and us seeing him mastering it in the epilogue, there would've been many setbacks. Many cuts and splinters via mistakes (thus, more wounds and scars...small, but numerous) and bandages on his hands, like what happened with the sewing needle. Thus, many times when he was reminded of what happened with his best friend. I can imagine that on the more difficult days of learning under Dell, remorse and horrible memories eating into him, he'd be more at risk of leaving more cuts because it would be harder to focus. There would've been days where he got close to giving up.

In his arc, this changed everything:

He was found by a free-spirited, strong-willed palisman.

This was when things began to be truly dangerous:

but by then he gathered enough courage to finally question Belos directly.

What a high price to pay. Recovery from trauma is certainly that way in real life too. But it led him on that path towards transformation, towards what he truly wanted.

In his old life, he'd point a staff at others to intimidate, to instill fear, and be Belos's instrument in furthering a cause that Hunter didn't truly support.

In the future, he generously gives palismen to others from the heart, via new creations made with his own hands, to bring more love, connection and wonder into the world. Letting others live out their truth via the bonds forged with their new palismen, the same kind of truth he himself had to fight so hard for.

If we rewind back to what the Bat Queen said in Hunting Palismen:

contrast that with this point in Hunter's arc:

Still blocked and numbed out from fully experiencing the worst thing he had ever been through: being possessed and in that process, slaying Flapjack.

Willow and Gus had just began to reach that vulnerability within him, moving him with their love and support (which is why the anger he had for around 2/3 of For the Future began to subside).

But it wasn't enough.

In the finale, he gets some temporary respite and relief:

But I believe the real gruelling work was to begin beyond this exact point:

More vulnerability ahead, to pave the way for healing.

Putting the scene of him looking at the old Flyer Derby photo (in For the Future) next to the scene where the Bat Queen sums up what palismen are all about...it indicates to me how steep the climb would be to connect with the full range of his emotions and memories, which parallels his development under Dell's mentorship. To bring some beauty out of that horror he has endured. To bring about the conviction that yes, he deserved Flapjack's gift, from Flapjack's sacrifice.

It would've been years before he would confidently and effortlessly rest in the truth of who he really is, and who he would like to be (remember his "Even if I'm not who I'm supposed to be, I like who I am right now" in front of the mirror, right before getting possessed?).

Liberating himself from enmeshment with his violent abuser and that old life, a process he'd have to repeat again and again even beyond Belos's death. Changing that narrative of "supposed to":

into freely choosing the person he would like to become after Flapjack granted him love and literal life. We receive the one clue that he wanted to freely choose, as early as this scene:

When it comes to palismen, we have "emotion" and "conviction" and also the deepest wishes that witches have in their hearts.

For emotion to flow freely, there must be vulnerability, generosity and love: Hunter integrating even the most difficult emotions into his story.

For him to grow into acceptance of his future major role, it would have involved wrestling with many questions to reach that place of conviction.

[cadejos]

ON NANAMI'S POWER LEVEL, DOMAIN EXPANSIONS, DOMAIN COUNTERS, AND HOW JUJUTSU SOCIETY PLAYS A ROLE.

This analysis originally turned viral on twitter. I'm posting it here for archival.

Nanami treated sorcery like a job and Gojo treated sorcery like a lifestyle. I've thought long and hard about why Nanami does not have certain skills (DE, Simple Domain, etc) that'd easily bump him up in terms of power, as he's already very strong. The reason is two-fold:

He never set out to do more than what he absolutely had to do. ("Moderate effort where moderate effort suffices," etc)

Information about sorcery is very gatekept and compartmentalized, because Jujutsu society sucks.

For point number 1, we are to keep in mind that Nanami is a grade one sorcerer, very much the peak of what sorcery is supposed to be outside of Special Grade work. The purpose of sorcery, up until very recently, has been about killing curses, most of which are not special grade or intelligent. The disaster curses are anomalies, and battles with Domain users were very rare until they showed up. They vastly skewed the power system. Remember that not even Naobito Zenin, the head of one of the great clans, had a Domain expansion either, and it took the work of a Domain user (Megumi) and an experienced sorcerer killer (Toji) to properly counter Dagon in his domain.

If domain battles are truly so rare, I don't really blame Nanami for not going out of his way to work on developing one, especially since Domains require an element of self-assurance that Nanami, due to trauma and disposition, was never geared toward developing.

His soul was strong enough to protect against a novice Mahito subconsciously, which is a promising start, but once Mahito grew too strong he was way out of Nanami's scope (not to mention Gege deliberately tired him over the course of Shibuya) and Nanami was more inclined to take his loss gracefully than to force himself to craft an spontaneous Domain Expansion. It's not like he really had the energy to try, either.

Overall, developing a DE for the off chance that he stumbled upon a Domain user just doesn't sound like his style. And he wouldn't do it for fun, either, because jujutsu is not fun for him, and it never has been. It's just work.

Let's say he would want to at least develop a domain counter, though. That's where point number 2 steps in. The whole reason something as fundamental as a domain counter is so rare in jujutsu is purely because jujutsu society is inherently selfish and self-serving.

If I recall correctly, SD is not something you can teach due to a binding vow tied to the technique. It has to be something you learn on your own through observation and intuition, or by joining New Shadow Style. Up until UiUi's soul swapping, there wasn't a reliable work around for this conundrum. And the other domain counters? Old, not very well known, and gatekept by the clans.

Sometimes I'm inclined to believe jujutsu sorcerers learn sorcery not because of the school system but in spite of it. Unless you're already a genius, born gifted, or willing to go an extra -- ambiguously illicit -- mile (like Kusakabe), there's not much the average sorcerer can do, and not many tools for them to learn to begin with. Nanami is presented as the baseline of what modern day good sorcery looks like; what you can achieve if you're competent, and don't have the privilege of relying on very good mentors, obscure knowledge, or ancient techniques. Even then he had an expansion technique, not something every sorcerer has, and he was capable of achieving one of the pinnacles of Jujutsu, which is the black flash; precisely because of his attitude toward jujutsu and his ability to focus when things get serious.

Maybe if given enough time to heal from his psychological wounds, and given opportunities for more black flashes, as well as a strong enough incentive, he could have circumvented a lot of problems and enlightened his way toward a DE or other such jujutsu-relevelations.

But that's speculation and not really the point of his character.

Had he been a villain though? Gege probably would've made him stronger, if his Culling Games score in JJK's draft Jujutsu Sousen is anything to go by, which is amusing.

Supplementary reading:

In regards to black flashes: a post where I go over why I think Yuuji and Nanami are especially good at them, and why I think they require conditions that are in opposition to Domain expansions.

Measuring Nanami's critical hit power: where I use a statement to further analyze and evaluate the capabilities of the Ratio Technique.

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader Smut Blurb

Concept: Gar can't say no to you. But he can't bring himself to see that as a problem.

Word Count: 1,800

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: spoilers for Titans S1, S2, and S3 if you haven’t seen the show before and want to watch it unspoiled, this is set during S3 when the Titans are staying at Wayne Manor, passing mentions of Gar’s trauma (him being killed during Trigon, him being kidnapped by Cadmus, his parents’ death), dom/sub dynamics - Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘baby boy’, the reader and Gar have an implied pre-established relationship, Gar (kind of) goes into subspace but it’s not explicitly mentioned or described as such, the reader has a vagina, penis in vagina sex, the reader rides Gar, overstimulation - the reader rides Gar through his orgasm and overstimulates him, possibly dubcon - the reader oversimulates Gar when he is not expecting it and he’s in a murky headspace but he does enjoy it and it’s stated in the narrative that he does not want it to stop (hence, the title), finger sucking (Gar sucks on the reader’s finger), unprotected sex, sloppy sex, hopefully that is everything. Just know that this is in line with my usual brand of filth.

A/N: One of my favourite smut tropes (kinks?) is riding a guy through his orgasm and overstimulating him - vastly underutilized. And I randomly got thinking about this + Gar this morning, so have this. I missed my green haired boyfriend, so there will definitely be more smut with him coming soon (I am thinking some stuff with virgin!Gar maybe? let me know what you think of that idea lmao)

...

Gar was someone who had experienced a lot of hardship in his life. 

His parents dying when he was still so young, him suddenly having a set of metahuman powers that he wasn’t prepared for - powers that he was kind of terrified of and definitely didn’t know how to use responsibly. Him literally being murdered by his dearest friends while they were under mind control, and then being brought back again and having to heal from the mental and physical injuries. The severe medical torture and resulting mental shitshow that Cadmus had put him through. 

It was a lot to have to push down during everyday life, having to pretend he was okay - having to put up a front for everyone else when they simply assumed that he was. 

But there were a lot of times when he could forget about all that. Times when he wasn’t actively suppressing his trauma because you made things okay - because you distracted him in the absolute best ways. Times when he thought that literally everything in life was just perfect. And most of those times were when you were on top of him like this. 

He would consider this nothing short of literal heaven. 

The feeling of your sweet, wet cunt clenching down on him as he laid flat on his back, splayed out on one of the many luxurious beds of Wayne Manor. 

(“You need to relax.” You had told him, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the random bedroom. “You’re worrying way too much about everyone else right now. Someone needs to take care of you.”) 

And while he had not at all put up any physical resistance against you, pliant under your touch as usual, that conversation had originally started out as him protesting against your thesis. He had told you that: no, he was worrying just the right amount about everyone else, that they needed him. But his protests had quickly died down when you shoved him back onto the bed and drowned out his voice with your tongue. 

Gar always had a very hard time saying no to you. 

He wasn’t sure if it was selfishly motivated. From the outside looking in, others probably say that it was. Considering that he was a guy, and you were just as horny as him - he never felt the need to say no to you. Especially considering the fact that he had never felt a greater sensation than that of your wet pussy surrounding his cock. 

And usually with the promise of that dangling over his head, you had gotten him to do a great number of compromising things, both minuscule and potentially life changing. Or perhaps it was because you were the sweetest little vixen that had captured his heart. And any time you batted your eyes and asked him to do something in that sweet voice, you might as well have been casting a spell on him. 

And he knew that it wasn’t just a weak spot he had for you. 

You had worked that magic on Conner and Jason before. Gar was actively working under the firm belief that if you simply approached Jason and asked him to stop killing people nicely please, then he would take off the Red Hood mask and surrender himself politely, no questions asked. 

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind as you bounced on his cock. 

With your hands sitting on his shoulders, your nails digging into his bare skin. His shirt had been lost at some point while his pants were shucked off around his ankles and caught up against his shoes. But he could barely even focus on his lack of nakedness or your own because he was obsessively caught in the feeling of your cunt warmly hugging around his hard cock. 

Though he was slightly wishing that your shirt was off, but far too pussy drunk to simply reach out and lift it off so he could enjoy the sway of your tits in his face without obstruction. 

You were a perfect wet vice around him, leaking wetness down over his heavy balls and smearing it up over his stomach as you bounced. And all Gar could really do was take a gentle hold on your hips and appreciate the ride. His face was absolutely knit with pleasure in a way that made you giggle with delight, watching his almost caveman-like expression of tight brows and a heavy set jaw as he stared at the place where you were joined with utterly intense concentration. 

You had never seen a prettier man in all your days - those big brown eyes entirely rapt with pleasure, soft lips and a glisten of sweat across his skin that made you even more intent on ruining him. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy?” Your voice laced around the words, breathy yet so commanding, so strong, holding the power over him as you always did. 

It was enough to send a rumble through Gar’s chest, a sharp echo of pleasure from your words. 

That was the sacred question. 

Of course, Gar never wanted it to end. Ultimately, he just wanted to stay like this forever - buried deep in your sweet cunt, feeling that intense warmth hugging him, having your perfect scent surrounding him and having every worry in the world pushed out of his brain. 

But he did feel all the telltale signs - that almost painful tingle in his balls and that deep twisting in his gut that told him it was going to he over too soon. He was going to cum for you, just like he always did. 

All he could gather in response was a choked off grunt. But you knew his language well enough by now - you knew him when he was swimming this deep in pleasure, and you certainly didn’t need words. You knew it just by the expression on his face, the growing look of tight-knit desperation, the gentle whimpers that began to escape his lips. 

Something so enticing that it caused you to run a thumb along his bottom lip, finding the curve of his mouth to be all too pretty when he let out those sweet little sounds. Naturally, he drew the digit inside and began sucking on it, enjoying the tang of your natural skin oils, something that only pushed him closer to the edge. 

Feeling that that sharp whine punched out of his chest, vibrating around your finger only caused you to double down. You bucked your hips harder, riding him with an almost vengeful kick, as though you were trying to push his entire body down through the bed. It was something that caused a loud, pornographic wet smacking to echo through the room - a blatant signal to anyone walking by that the two of you were going at it like rabbits. 

If Gar had any sense left between his ears, he would have been thankful for it being such a large house. He would have been thankful for some sense of privacy. 

Instead, he was totally brainless as the feeling of orgasm overtook his body. His mouth went wide around your thumb as he released a litany of almost pathetic moans and whimpers and he arched back into the bed, a pure exorcism of pleasure overtaking him. He mindlessly endowed his animal strength onto you - digging his fingers into your hips and forcing you down onto his cock for a few moments, forcing you to still on top of him as he shot his load of hot cum inside of you. 

This caused a few hot moans from your lips, nothing but pure enjoyment as you watched the radical pleasure rock him. 

It was such an intense orgasm that it made his muscles seize and jump, it easily made his balls ache. By the time his cock had spurted those last bits of cum into you, he thought that his dick would willfully go limp and fall out of you, being just as tired as he was as he collapsed back onto the bed. But he was still semi-hard and throbbing inside your pussy, tingling with overstimulation as you unconsciously clenched around him. 

You leaned down to his panting lips, sealing him in a hot kiss. 

Gar let out a strangled shriek when you began bouncing your hips again. 

A shockwave of hot pin needles flew up his body from the point where you were joined, erratic hot overstimulation overtaking him. His cock forcefully filled with blood again as you clenched down on him harder. Clearly, you were gaining some thrill out of feeling the extra slickness of his cum sliding between the two of you, out of hearing just how wet your thrusts were now. 

Gar let out another sharp whine and moved his very limp hands back to your hips. In his mind, it was an attempt to shove you off him, to take a fucking breath. But his fingers only dug into your flesh harder and pulled you down onto his cock with force when he felt a particular hot streak of pleasure flare up through his gut. It was almost against his will - but your pussy was just too fucking good. 

“Too much.” He moaned out weakly, a hot puff against your lips, the first thing he had said in an hour of more. “‘s too much.” 

You found the way he slurred the words to be entirely adorable - as though he was quite literally drunk on your pussy. The wide gape of his mouth, trying to draw in breath as you continued to punch it out of him, and the tears pricking the edges of his eyes only made it more beautiful. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, slightly breathless yourself. 

You continued to slam your hips down on his cock, over and over again planting yourself in that filthy puddle of your mixed cum. 

It was a traitorous question. 

It was too much of a strain on his body, but it was everything he wanted. He was breathless and brainless and nothing else in the world existed except for your wet cunt squeezing his aching cock, your natural smell filling the world around him, the hot press of your tits against his chest. 

The word ‘stop’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary. 

He let out a strained choking sound, and found himself unconsciously bucking up into you - he found himself enjoying the painful sting that ran through him. Tears leaked from his eyes, and when you reached up to wipe them away, you gave him one last thoughtful sentiment. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whispered quietly against his cheek. 

But it seemed that you already knew what his answer would be. 

Gar put a hand on your back, cradling you close, shoving his face in your neck and breathing in that perfect aroma of your sweat. 

Stop? 

You ground your hips down into him, creating nothing but a filthy wet ache. He choked on a moan and found himself holding you still once again so he could fuck up into you harder. 

“Please.” He moaned weakly against your skin. “Please, don’t stop.”

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

calico jack sympathy is a very rich vein for emotional ed whump btw. not saying anyone needs to sympathize with jack at all bc he DOES suck and personally idc enough abt jack to sympathize with him for his own sake, but there is actually textual support for a sympathetic cj read. canonically he has the same traumatic pirate background as ed and the two of them went through a rlly rough time together. we have direct support from the show that jack’s rejection of anything “soft” or “weak” comes from hornigold—the very first mention of hornigold in the entire show is when jack sees the breakfast table set for ed and stede and starts teasing ed for it with “just the two of you? hornigold would shit himself.” plus ed tells stede “jack’s always been emotional” and “he can come on a bit strong but he’s insecure” which strongly implies that ed has seen a side of jack that we don’t get to see in the one episode where he shows up. it’s a side that very well might be completely gone now that jack’s a grown adult man but to me it runs counter to the text to claim that ed’s assessment of jack is completely wrong and this vulnerable side of jack never existed in the first place.

so anyway one possible angle here for sympathizing with jack as a vessel for whumping poor ed’s heart is the tragedy of two kids going through something awful together and not being able to count on each other during the whole experience. being trapped in a physically and emotionally abusive environment together and empathizing when the captain singles one of them out bc they know firsthand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of hornigold’s ire, but at the same time they’re not able to ask each other for support bc what if they use that vulnerability, that plea for comfort, as a weapon against you? what if you try to offer them support and comfort and they push you away? what if, when you DO rely on each other for support, your captain sees that bond and uses it to torture you both even further?

and what do you do if you both comfort each other, you both take care of each other, and then one of you fucking dies? because that’s how it goes—most of the pirates ed knows are dead, a pirate’s life is short but nice, the only retirement they get is death, you’re not likely to avoid near-death experiences in their line of work, heading towards a raid with the one hope being that a certain death ain’t slow. and it’s not just raids, either: your captain might have you keelhauled for a minor offense, might starve you for a week if you laugh at him during a speech, might feed you a live crab for nicking some rations, or maybe a disagreement with another crew member could turn into bloodshed. maybe someone will push you overboard for shits and giggles. what do you if you’ve found comfort with a crewmate, and then that crewmate dies? how do you cope? you’re probably better off not letting yourself care for anyone, rejecting people’s pleas for support or intimacy or friendship, because it’ll hurt less when they inevitably end up dying horrifically just like everyone else you’ve ever cared about.

and then the other big ed whump angle here is watching someone you know experience horrific trauma with not only fail to process the trauma in a healthy way but also become a worse person as a result of it. like ed knowing firsthand just how awful everything jack experienced was and remembering exactly what it looked like every time hornigold beat the spirit out of jack when he was ultimately just a vulnerable kid. ed hearing jack say some toxic macho bullshit and knowing exactly where jack learned that and how much it hurt for 20-something-year-old jack to absorb that lesson—and more than that, ed remembering when he used to believe that exact sort of toxic shit. and ed feeling like he can’t hold it against jack if he doesn’t grow bc he sees so many similarities between him and jack, and the only reason he was able to heal and become a better person is bc he met stede—and it’s not like stede was the only person in the whole world ed could’ve connected with, he had an entire ship full of kindhearted doofuses ready to offer him emotional support and he betrayed all of them because the recent back-to-back backstabbing compounded on a lifetime of trauma and made it impossible for ed to trust them. how can ed blame jack for rejecting opportunities to heal when ed did the same thing? when he can remember watching firsthand as years of abuse caused jack to gradually close himself off, the worst part of it being that it was like watching his own reflection as he also hardened under the pressure of just trying to survive another fucking day? how can ed judge jack, when jack is who he might’ve been if he’d never met stede?

[kitpanthera]

Book of Bill spoilers in the form of my thoughts on Bill's characterization:

Okay but I really appreciate how Book of Bill really made Bill out to be a 3-dimensional character who has severe trauma he's not dealing with?? I love that he's not just some 2-dimensional or stereotypical abusive character in this, like he's shown to have real feelings even if he doesn't express them well.

As someone who has survived an abusive relationship myself, one of the things that people don't consider is that the abuser is a person too, with their own experiences in life that have ultimately shaped them into the being they are today. That idea was one of the things that kept me going back to them over and over -- I felt sympathy for them.

I think everyone deserves a shot at redemption and healing, and it's super cool to me that when you sift through the lies and decode the ciphers, you see that Bill really is just a guy, and he's not as comical as he wants to appear to be, and he just has severe trauma he refuses to let himself heal from, he's made mistakes he can't forgive himself for, and he's complex, and yes, he's abusive, and none of his history excuses that, but as an abuse survivor and as a psychology major, it's really, really cool to see him explored in how he got to be the way he is.

I think when exploring abuse, the humanization of the abuser is an essential part of it because it gives your audience insight into why the victim stays -- because regardless of how much of that past they know, the bare relatability of the very experience of existence, of pain and knowing their abuser has experienced it, is enough to keep them from ever demonizing their abuser.

So yeah, props to Alex for this phenomenal dive into Bill's psyche.

[sundrop-writes]

Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar can’t say no to you. But he can’t bring himself to see that as a problem. (aka - Gar is very stressed out about everyone else's problems, so you force him to de-stress in the best way.)

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 1,800

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: spoilers for Titans S1, S2, and S3 if you haven’t seen the show before and want to watch it unspoiled, this is set during S3 when the Titans are staying at Wayne Manor, passing mentions of Gar’s trauma (him being killed during Trigon, him being kidnapped by Cadmus, his parents’ death), dom/sub dynamics - Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘baby boy’, the reader and Gar have an implied pre-established relationship, Gar (kind of) goes into subspace but it’s not explicitly mentioned or described as such, the reader has a vagina, penis in vagina sex, the reader rides Gar, overstimulation - the reader rides Gar through his orgasm and overstimulates him, possibly dubcon - the reader oversimulates Gar when he is not expecting it and he’s in a murky headspace but he does enjoy it and it’s stated in the narrative that he does not want it to stop (hence, the title), finger sucking (Gar sucks on the reader’s finger), unprotected sex, sloppy sex, hopefully that is everything. Just know that this is in line with my usual brand of filth.

A/N: This is one of my favourite Gar smuts that I have written, so I had to re-post it first. One of my favourite smut tropes (kinks?) is riding a guy through his orgasm and overstimulating him - vastly underutilized. And I randomly got thinking about this + Gar this morning, so have this. I missed my green haired boyfriend, so there will definitely be more smut with him coming soon (I am thinking some stuff with virgin!Gar maybe? let me know what you think of that idea lmao).

....

Gar was someone who had experienced a lot of hardship in his life. 

His parents dying when he was still so young, him suddenly having a set of metahuman powers that he wasn’t prepared for - powers that he was kind of terrified of and definitely didn’t know how to use responsibly. Him literally being murdered by his dearest friends while they were under mind control, and then being brought back again and having to heal from the mental and physical injuries. The severe medical torture and resulting mental shitshow that Cadmus had put him through. 

It was a lot to have to push down during everyday life, having to pretend he was okay - having to put up a front for everyone else when they simply assumed that he was. 

But there were a lot of times when he could forget about all that. Times when he wasn’t actively suppressing his trauma because you made things okay - because you distracted him in the absolute best ways. Times when he thought that literally everything in life was just perfect. And most of those times were when you were on top of him like this. 

He would consider this nothing short of literal heaven. 

The feeling of your sweet, wet cunt clenching down on him as he laid flat on his back, splayed out on one of the many luxurious beds of Wayne Manor. 

(“You need to relax.” You had told him, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the random bedroom. “You’re worrying way too much about everyone else right now. Someone needs to take care of you.”) 

And while he had not at all put up any physical resistance against you, pliant under your touch as usual, that conversation had originally started out as him protesting against your thesis. He had told you that: no, he was worrying just the right amount about everyone else, that they needed him. But his protests had quickly died down when you shoved him back onto the bed and drowned out his voice with your tongue. 

Gar always had a very hard time saying no to you. 

He wasn’t sure if it was selfishly motivated. From the outside looking in, others probably say that it was. Considering that he was a guy, and you were just as horny as him - he never felt the need to say no to you. Especially considering the fact that he had never felt a greater sensation than that of your wet pussy surrounding his cock. 

And usually with the promise of that dangling over his head, you had gotten him to do a great number of compromising things, both minuscule and potentially life changing. Or perhaps it was because you were the sweetest little vixen that had captured his heart. And any time you batted your eyes and asked him to do something in that sweet voice, you might as well have been casting a spell on him. 

And he knew that it wasn’t just a weak spot he had for you. 

You had worked that magic on Conner and Jason before. Gar was actively working under the firm belief that if you simply approached Jason and asked him to stop killing people nicely please, then he would take off the Red Hood mask and surrender himself politely, no questions asked. 

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind as you bounced on his cock. 

With your hands sitting on his shoulders, your nails digging into his bare skin. His shirt had been lost at some point while his pants were shucked off around his ankles and caught up against his shoes. But he could barely even focus on his lack of nakedness or your own because he was obsessively caught in the feeling of your cunt warmly hugging around his hard cock. 

Though he was slightly wishing that your shirt was off, but far too pussy drunk to simply reach out and lift it off so he could enjoy the sway of your tits in his face without obstruction. 

You were a perfect wet vice around him, leaking wetness down over his heavy balls and smearing it up over his stomach as you bounced. And all Gar could really do was take a gentle hold on your hips and appreciate the ride. His face was absolutely knit with pleasure in a way that made you giggle with delight, watching his almost caveman-like expression of tight brows and a heavy set jaw as he stared at the place where you were joined with utterly intense concentration. 

You had never seen a prettier man in all your days - those big brown eyes entirely rapt with pleasure, soft lips and a glisten of sweat across his skin that made you even more intent on ruining him. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy?” Your voice laced around the words, breathy yet so commanding, so strong, holding the power over him as you always did. 

It was enough to send a rumble through Gar’s chest, a sharp echo of pleasure from your words. 

That was the sacred question. 

Of course, Gar never wanted it to end. Ultimately, he just wanted to stay like this forever - buried deep in your sweet cunt, feeling that intense warmth hugging him, having your perfect scent surrounding him and having every worry in the world pushed out of his brain. 

But he did feel all the telltale signs - that almost painful tingle in his balls and that deep twisting in his gut that told him it was going to he over too soon. He was going to cum for you, just like he always did. 

All he could gather in response was a choked off grunt. But you knew his language well enough by now - you knew him when he was swimming this deep in pleasure, and you certainly didn’t need words. You knew it just by the expression on his face, the growing look of tight-knit desperation, the gentle whimpers that began to escape his lips. 

Something so enticing that it caused you to run a thumb along his bottom lip, finding the curve of his mouth to be all too pretty when he let out those sweet little sounds. Naturally, he drew the digit inside and began sucking on it, enjoying the tang of your natural skin oils, something that only pushed him closer to the edge. 

Feeling that that sharp whine punched out of his chest, vibrating around your finger only caused you to double down. You bucked your hips harder, riding him with an almost vengeful kick, as though you were trying to push his entire body down through the bed. It was something that caused a loud, pornographic wet smacking to echo through the room - a blatant signal to anyone walking by that the two of you were going at it like rabbits. 

If Gar had any sense left between his ears, he would have been thankful for it being such a large house. He would have been thankful for some sense of privacy. 

Instead, he was totally brainless as the feeling of orgasm overtook his body. His mouth went wide around your thumb as he released a litany of almost pathetic moans and whimpers and he arched back into the bed, a pure exorcism of pleasure overtaking him. He mindlessly endowed his animal strength onto you - digging his fingers into your hips and forcing you down onto his cock for a few moments, forcing you to still on top of him as he shot his load of hot cum inside of you. 

This caused a few hot moans from your lips, nothing but pure enjoyment as you watched the radical pleasure rock him. 

It was such an intense orgasm that it made his muscles seize and jump, it easily made his balls ache. By the time his cock had spurted those last bits of cum into you, he thought that his dick would willfully go limp and fall out of you, being just as tired as he was as he collapsed back onto the bed. But he was still semi-hard and throbbing inside your pussy, tingling with overstimulation as you unconsciously clenched around him. 

You leaned down to his panting lips, sealing him in a hot kiss. 

Gar let out a strangled shriek when you began bouncing your hips again. 

A shockwave of hot pin needles flew up his body from the point where you were joined, erratic hot overstimulation overtaking him. His cock forcefully filled with blood again as you clenched down on him harder. Clearly, you were gaining some thrill out of feeling the extra slickness of his cum sliding between the two of you, out of hearing just how wet your thrusts were now. 

Gar let out another sharp whine and moved his very limp hands back to your hips. In his mind, it was an attempt to shove you off him, to take a fucking breath. But his fingers only dug into your flesh harder and pulled you down onto his cock with force when he felt a particular hot streak of pleasure flare up through his gut. It was almost against his will - but your pussy was just too fucking good. 

“Too much.” He moaned out weakly, a hot puff against your lips, the first thing he had said in an hour of more. “‘s too much.” 

You found the way he slurred the words to be entirely adorable - as though he was quite literally drunk on your pussy. The wide gape of his mouth, trying to draw in breath as you continued to punch it out of him, and the tears pricking the edges of his eyes only made it more beautiful. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, slightly breathless yourself. 

You continued to slam your hips down on his cock, over and over again planting yourself in that filthy puddle of your mixed cum. 

It was a traitorous question. 

It was too much of a strain on his body, but it was everything he wanted. He was breathless and brainless and nothing else in the world existed except for your wet cunt squeezing his aching cock, your natural smell filling the world around him, the hot press of your tits against his chest. 

The word ‘stop’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary. 

He let out a strained choking sound, and found himself unconsciously bucking up into you - he found himself enjoying the painful sting that ran through him. Tears leaked from his eyes, and when you reached up to wipe them away, you gave him one last thoughtful sentiment. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whispered quietly against his cheek. 

But it seemed that you already knew what his answer would be. 

Gar put a hand on your back, cradling you close, shoving his face in your neck and breathing in that perfect aroma of your sweat. 

Stop? 

You ground your hips down into him, creating nothing but a filthy wet ache. He choked on a moan and found himself holding you still once again so he could fuck up into you harder. 

“Please.” He moaned weakly against your skin. “Please, don’t stop.”

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

IM fandom got me actin up cause I wasn't even gonna say anything about this chapter lmao

So let's tall about it

Chapter 349: Imperfect Parents

It is not lost on me in the slightest that we're using plural nouns in this title instead of just referring to one parent. I can't imagine why.

Okay so, I'm fully understanding of why people are upset with this chapter and I get that we were so close to a good ending for the boys but-

Canola is right.

I'm not sorry she absolutely is right about this and we gotta address it now. Putting this on the record here and not just on the discord where I already went over all of this.

Let's start with the beginning.

Canola makes it clear that no minor should be in Felix's care, and upon inquiring we are given a very clear reason as to why.

And she is correct. When the Labyrinth chapters were dropping I need it to be made clear I had no patience for any of the Questers' actions regarding this scene. Every last one of them knew damn well Boris shouldn't have gone in there and they still let him regardless. The fact that Cuphead was the only one who had his wits about him enough to say no is embarrassing because when the fuck did he become the reasonable one amongst the group? Why were Leticia and Cuphead the ONLY ADULTS WHO REALIZED THAT BORIS WAS A CHILD

Everyone knew about the children going missing in Fairmont. Everyone knew how dangerous this was but because Boris didn't look like he was traumatized by the other previous quests everyone decided that he was mature enough to handle this quest. The problem lies in the fact that the Questers treat Boris like he's 25 when he's only 14. Not only that, but unlike everyone else who was going into the Labyrinth Boris was DEFENSELESS. He didn't have any real means of saving himself, and given what was in the Labyrinth? Do y'all really think a pipe was going to save his ass? The only reason why Boris lived was because Sarah used him to escape Fairmont, that's it. Otherwise he very well could have fucking died in there and then guess whose fucking fault THAT would have been

In the context of this particular conversation it doesn't matter that Canola doesn't have the full context because she doesn't need it. I said this on the discord and I'll say it again here. Every excuse and reason that people are giving for why things happened the way they did is a NAIL in Felix's coffin preventing him from adopting Boris, not a boon in his favor. These are grown ass adults, they do not need protection from their stupidity and negligence. Because let it be understood, when Canola says "Felix's isn't equipped to care for any minor" she means because of this very reason. Because what the Questers did here was negligence and child endangerment, plain and simple.

If Felix is genuinely serious about adopting Boris he needs to understand that simply listing all the problems he has isn't good enough. You're not being graded for a damn test here, no one cares about your impassioned speech about how much you love and care for those boys after everything they've gone through; it's a nice sentiment, but absolutely meaningless in the grand scheme of the conversation he's having with Canola.

Fundamentally what a social worker like Canola is asking of Felix is: with the behavioral issues and trauma this child has, can you really look after them and give them the proper care they need? Can you guarantee them a safe environment to heal and process their trauma? Can you put your foot down and reprimand Boris when he's out of line?

All of these are necessary questions to ask and all of these questions Felix has failed even before the idea of adoption occurred to him.

Things are not going to get better unless a change is made in the dynamic of the quest group. Everybody, not just Felix, has to stop treating Boris like he's an adult and recognize him for the traumatized child he is. And that means putting their foot down and Boris actually experiencing repercussions for things he does without adult guidance and supervision. Something he dearly needed during the TalentTown arc and was denied by everyone in the group who turned a blind eye to it, not because the don't care about him, but because none of them are truly equipped to deal with a child.

I don't think all hope is lost for Boris to be clear, but I am saying a change absolutely needs to happen in the group and soon if they don't want Boris getting separated. If they care, they'll do it without hesitation.