#but hes meant to be sort of back and to the side of her a bit more 🤔

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 24

masterpost

“We should make H— Jason spend some time in here,” Danny said. He was good with the rest of the name now, but he still struggled with with Jason. He was trying. “He could use the reason to relax.”

“I do not believe that Todd is capable of relaxing,” Damian said with a little frown and Danny was pretty sure meant Damian was uncertain, but other people tended to think that it meant Damian was judging them.

“Sure he can. He makes a great pillow too,” Danny said. He leaned over and bumped his shoulders against Damian’s. “Totally bet if you just just sat down and leaned against him, he wouldn’t do anything.”

“Tch.”

“Okay, sure, half of that would be because he’d be too shocked, but really. He’s secretly a cuddler but, like, in a totally different way than Dick. Jason is more like Cass is.”

Damian’s brows were knitted together, but he gave a considering little nod at that.

Danny was glad that Damian went through the door to the hall first. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, exactly, but being out of the apartment now felt wrong and bad and… scary. Danny knew that had delayed them taking him to the Manor and was making some of them anxious, but Danny just couldn’t… it was hard to shake, even if everywhere they went had been safe.

“How were the kittens, Dandelion?” Jason asked. He was leaning against one wall and Lacey stood next to him, looking at something on her phone.

“Pointy,” Danny said with a little smile, “and very cute.”

“We are going to go see the dogs now instead,” Damian said.

“Okay,” Lacey said with a smile. “Your brother and I were talking about what might work for you. I think we have a few options, but I actually have someone in mind for you to meet first of the bunch. She might not work at all but… I have a hunch.”

“As ludicrous as it sounds, Ms. Lacey’s hunches do often play out,” Damian said. “Which dog are we going to see?”

“You haven’t met her yet. She just came here from another shelter because the last one didn’t have the space for her. Before that she was out in the suburbs where she had been adopted, but she kept trying to herd all the other animals and children. They got her from a shelter where she had been surrendered by her owners because they moved to a new apartment that wouldn’t let a dog like her in.”

Danny frown grew as Lacey talked. “Oh, wow… she’s been through a lot of homes, hasn’t she?”

“She has, and it’s really not her fault. She’s only a year and a half old, so she’s still a bit of a puppy and will need training, but she’s a real sweetheart and I think she just needs the right person to love her back.” Lacey paused in front of a door and opened it to some sort of waiting room. “Now, she is a large dog, so I’ll keep her on a harness when I bring him in and you let me know when you’re comfortable for her to come close, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny agreed. He knew he had told Damian not small, but he was suddenly a little concerned by how large was large.

Jason must have been able to tell, because he led Danny over to the small couch to sit down with him while Damian scooted the chair he chose closer to Danny’s open side.

Very, was the answer to how large was large a few minutes later when Lacey brought in a huge dog. The bright red harness barely visible through the mass of black fur that seemed to stand straight out from the dog in a massive mane.

“Okay, come on girl, down,” Lacey said, drawing out the words.

When the large, deep black eyes turned to her, she pointed purposefully at the ground. The dog huffed and settled on the floor looking like some avant guard throw pillow. She snuffed curiously at the group and shuffled forward a few inches on her belly before peering up at Lacey to see if she was noticed.

“Stay. Like I said, still a puppy,” Lacey said fondly.

“What breeds do we suspect she is?” Damian asked.

“She’s definitely a large part chow,” Lacey answered. “She has the black mouth and everything. We’re guessing black lab maybe as some of the rest or some other sporting dog. From those breeds, and her behavior so far, she’s going to be loyal and protective. She will need to be exercised as specially at this age she’ll have a lot of energy, but I know you have the yard to let her run. Fetch or retrieval games will be great stimulation for her and walks can probably be kept pretty short, but I know that Damian could help you train her. Do you want to come over here and let her smell your hand? Or we could just let her settle in and wander the room.”

“I’ll, um…” Danny trailed off as he moved to sit down on the ground at Jason’s feet. He leaned forward and offered his hand, stretching out as far as he could.

The mass of fluff crept forward a few inches, then a few more, and the last few to where she was close enough to sniff at Danny’s hand. The curly tail started to wag before the dog gave Danny’s hand a lick.

A small smile lit up Danny’s face. “Oh, you’re just a big fluffy sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“She really is. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes every time someone passes her and doesn’t give her attention. She really wants nothing more than to be with people or other pets and part of a family,” Lacey said.

Danny watched the dog snuff at Danny’s hand before he decided that it was probably okay to move forward a little more so that he could pet the dog. His fingers sank into the thick black fur and the curly tail started to wag.

“She’s kinda like a big teddy bear,” Danny said, completely missing the look that Damian and Jason exchanged behind his back at that statement.

“Chows are like that.,” Lacey agreed. “They get a bad rep because they can be really protective of their owners, so if she’s the dog you go with, you will need to work on socializing her. Taking her to the dog park or things like that would be a good step.”

“It will help that there is such a large amount of family and acquaintances coming and going from the manor,” Damian added. “But if she is the dog that will be yours, we can easily set up a plan for socialization.”

“I, um, I’ve never adopted a pet before. How do I know if she’s the right one?” Danny asked.

“Seeing if you get a long is a good start. With a big dog like her, I think you should walk him a little and play some. We can try some tricks too and see how she listens to you,” Lacey said. “We have a two week trial window where if you think she’s the right dog, she’ll go home with you and you can see how it all works out. If it doesn’t, she comes back here no issues.”

Danny took in a calming breath and let it out. “Okay, let’s see how it goes.”

The dog was a lot. There was no doubt about that what with her size, but she did seem very eager to listen. She apparently walked very well with Danny, even if that was almost sandwiched up against Danny’s side between him and the road. It reminded him of how Jason always walked, as if guarding Danny from the world.

There back at the shelter now. Danny buried his fingers in the dog’s thick fur, ruffling it idly.

“What do you guys think?” he asked his brothers.

“I think that she will be a loyal dog for you,” Damian said, “and that training her may also be beneficial for you.”

“That,” Jason said, “and that she likes you already just like you like her already. I think the only real question is what’s her name going to be?”

Danny looked down at the almost bottomless seeming brown eyes that were staring adoringly back up at him. “Ursa. Her name’s Ursa.”

-

Ursa took to the Manor immediately— or at least took next to being by Danny’s side in the manor. His bed seemed much smaller with her laying next to him, but he had a feeling it he woke up that night with a nightmare that it wouldn’t last long.

His fingers tightened in her mane as he took a breath and hit send on the text message to Babs.

Her name is Jasmine Fenton.

[shanastoryteller]

Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

[hiddenlongingsfanfic]

Pushing Your Luck (Lucky Boys 4)

Danny slowly uncurled from the little corner that he had started to make his own. He had never had a home that was completely his before and it still felt too good to be true. He yawned and stretched his hands above his head and leaned back and back and back; doing a lazy little loop de loop in the air.

He cocked his head to one side as he stretched his hearing out to the rest of the building.

Nothing sounded out of place.

No footsteps or voices.

Just the low scratching of some industrious little rodent that was making its own nest in the walls a floor below him.

He raked a hand through his wild white hair and contemplated what he was going to do with his morning. He had managed to gather a small collection of plastic bottles that he had cleaned out and then filled in a public bathroom. The moldy comforter made a comfortable little nest that he could curl up in without having to worry about getting too warm.

The little basket next to the window…had not been there last night.

Still yawning, Danny floated over to the woven basket that someone had placed inside without disturbing him.

When he caught sight of the handwritten note that had been placed on top of his newest present he let out a little chirrup of glee. More presents from Hood. Once he managed to get himself a little bit more established Danny was going to have to figure out where the other man lived so that he could return the favor.

Sneaky presents were the best kind after all.

It meant that the other man had been thinking of him without wanting to bother him. The most recent note was just as sweet as the first had been.

THOUGHT YOU MIGHT NEED THESE. RH 

The note was attached to the top of a little pad of paper and included a ballpoint pen. Danny carefully sifted through the basket with something approaching awe.

Nobody had ever given him such thoughtful gifts before.

His parents had been prone to forgetting his birthday and Christmas.

Jazz had always remembered but cakes and the like were completely out of the question in their house when the eggs were prone to reanimation. So it had usually been some sort of pre-packaged cupcake or at best a new pair of sneakers to replace the ones that had been accidentally dipped in acid.

Danny purred quietly when he pulled out a fuzzy throw blanket in a deep green color that wouldn’t show stains.

A couple of different bottles of cleaner.

One for fabrics and one for tile or linoleum.

Some paper towels for easy cleanup and disposal.

Then finally with shaking fingers he pulled out an oversized hoodie that would be able to swing down to at least his knees; this one in a sturdy black woven material that would drape without clinging to him.

Danny buried his face in the thick material with a stifled gasp as he hugged it to his chest and finally let himself actually think about his sister.

She had always done what she thought was best for him.

No matter the cost.

One of the last sounds he had heard before falling through the rift in the sky was the sound of explosive ammunition being set off with extreme prejudice.

Ancients, he even thought that he might have seen Vlad of all people coming in with his friends trying to get his parents to see reason. It had sounded like the world was exploding around him and Jazz had only been given an instant to hug her little brother tightly to her chest, her lips brushing his forehead before she pushed him back and managed to shove some sort of small tech directly into an opening in his chest.

A gash that the scientists had left on him after they’re latest session and left a couple of his ribs exposed to the open air. 

She had screamed a phrase in a language that seemed to reorient Danny’s world as he fell up through the sky and then started falling straight down into an entirely new world.

He could barely see anything through the lights and explosive noises that had erupted around him but it hadn't looked survivable. He could see Jazz’s eyes red-rimmed and blackened with soot and bruises for a long moment before the portal had snapped shut. Gone so completely that he couldn’t even see a scar in the sky above him as he began to fall.

He had felt the finality of whatever Jazz had done.

There wasn’t going to be a way for him to go back home, even if he had wanted to.

He had the last piece of his world and family hidden behind his heart.

Still holding the new hoodie tightly in one arm Danny pulled it free gently; desperately trying not to damage whatever Jazz’s last gift could possibly be. He looked down at the little cube in the palm of his hand and he could see that Jazz, Sam, and Tucker had all written their initials on it. Danny ducked his head down a little bit so that he could look at the tech a little closer. It looked to just plug in to a normal USB. Jazz and his friends would have had months to plan their insane rescue mission. Hopefully wherever he had landed they had similar technology.

Although if he glanced at the little box out of the corner of his eyes he could see the low sheen of some sort of magic that they had coated it in. Knowing Tucker it was more than likely going to force itself to work with any sort of operating system he was able to find. 

Danny floated over to the corner that he had made his little nest in.

It was easier to pull ectoplasm from the floor when he only had a few layers of fabric separating him from it so he didn’t have to worry about needing to find or haul a bed frame into the little studio.

The moldy comforter was carefully folded; as neatly as he was able to manage and placed to one side.

He scrunched the rich green fabric of his new blanket into a nest that he would be able to curl up in comfortably as long as he continued to not have bones.

The cleaning supplies were left in the basket for the moment.

He still wanted to do a little more exploring before the sun fully rose and cleaning could wait until after he’d rested some more.

The motley little collection of plastic bottles was tucked in next to the cleaners.

It wasn’t a lot but Danny tweaked the bottles and looked over his few belongings with something like pride.

With a great deal of reluctance Danny twitched back into his human form only staying in it long enough to slip the hoodie over his bare torso before reverting back to his ghostly body as quickly he could manage. Danny let his fingers smooth down over his hazmat suit and even though he normally couldn’t even feel whatever clothing his alternate was wearing he could feel a hint of extra warmth on his body from the extra layer.

He floated back towards his window and let himself go invisible and intangible as he slipped through the rotten wooden boards that half covered the broken glass. The early morning sun was still hiding behind the tall buildings and left the streets of his new home murky and fog covered. 

The chill of the mist seemed to penetrate right to his core and Danny shivered with delight.

He let the droplets of moisture phase right through him and he could feel them wicking away the muck and blood of his capture and subsequent escape. The miasma of smog and water felt like a blessing after the close confines of the laboratory and Danny let himself spin and swirl through it. 

It was early enough that he could just make out a couple of windows with their lights on. 

3rd shifters coming home for the day or maybe a few of especially early birds that were preparing for the long day ahead of them. The sidewalks themselves were bare of any commuters and even the women who had been patrolling the area for customers had finally headed back to their homes.

The city wasn’t completely quiet though.

Danny could hear what sounded like pigeons cooing and beginning to stir from their nests and someone had a radio playing a softly sung ballad in Spanish.

The more Danny scouted around the more it felt like any sort of normal morning in a big city.

Well, what he had always imagined a big city would sound like.  

Whatever alternate earth he had ended up landing on seemed to be on a similar timeline at least.

There weren’t a lot of cars lining the streets but the ones that were there looked to be worn from long winters. The rocker panels rusted and were eaten away by the spray of slush from salt covered pavement.

The lines of the cars were different though, a little longer and sleeker than the vehicles he was accustomed to.

Still though; they were undeniably gas powered cars just like those he had grown up with.

As he got closer to the edges of the urban sprawl Danny started to hear the low susurration of swiftly running water.

He trailed the edges of the river, ducking under huge cranes and flying over large shipping containers.

The closer he got to the waters edge the more the smell of pollution and rotten fish began to overwhelm him.

The water looked near pitch black with an oily rainbow sheen coating the top of it.

Sam would have been having absolute fits about this place if she was here Danny thought wistfully.

He hadn’t seen a single designated green space at all in his exploration and the water smelled absolutely toxic even to him.

As he darted around his new haunt Danny was starting to get a vivid picture of exactly where he had ended up.

The entire place seemed to be the worst sort of urban sprawl, a broken down neighborhood trapped in the center of a river that was surrounded by an even larger city. With the cracked concrete, the empty warehouses and the prevalence of a less than legal nightlife as its main source of income the whole place had the feeling of a place that had been abandoned due to neglect and fear.

The unwanted bastard child of an aging royalty. 

It took him a couple of hours but Danny managed to circle the entire island, noting decrepit bridges as the only escape.

Winding his way through the blocks of housing Danny did start to notice some bright spots in the otherwise dingy atmosphere. 

A small diner whose warm lights shone out onto the pocked sidewalks. A woman, he presumed a waitress, between her clean white apron and the neat bun that her graying hair had been pulled back into, was wiping down the tables.

A few blocks down, now that the sun was finally starting to peek over the rooftops he could see a line forming for what looked like a local soup kitchen.

All of the tables and floors were worn but scrupulously clean. 

A couple of brave souls were already huddled over their pancakes or oatmeal with one of the employees waving a full coffee pot at them playfully.

Peering in through the window Danny smiled softly at the friendly group. Maybe once he managed to clean up his mortal body a little bit Danny would be welcomed here too and he could eat some freshly cooked food for the first time in longer than he wanted to think about.

When another early riser slipped obliviously through his body Danny startled and zipped up onto a nearby roof.

He hadn’t even felt the other man come up behind him.

He had used to be better at this, more aware of his surroundings.  

In Amity Park he had been able to feel the trails that the local human population had made through the ectoplasm that had filled the air.

He didn’t always know who it was, but Danny had always been able to determine without so much as a glance, whether there were any civilians in his trajectory.

There was just something about this place that left him feeling constantly on his back foot.

Tail?

Whatever.

Amity Park may have been coated in ectoplasm but he had still been able to feel the people moving through it.

Here it was like all of the people had been a part of this liminal space for so long that they were a part of the atmosphere, generations of people living and dying and being buried in it.

It was more akin to the Ghost Zone than the mortal plane that he was used to. 

Danny slunk back towards his apartment as the streets started to fill up with commuters.

T his time he was careful to float well above the scattering of people. 

It had always felt weird as hell whenever any sort of living thing passed straight through him and Danny had no interest in feeling that particular sensation again any time soon.

When he finally passed back through his window Danny sighed deeply as he let himself slip back into an at least semi-tangible form.

Alighting on the fuzzy softness of his new blanket Danny settled in for a late morning nap.

Once he got a little bit more rest he could start to clean up the worst of the water damage and mold.

The gift basket and the clippers had definitely come from Hood so he was going to work under the assumption that he was welcome in the other man’s haunt.

At least for now.

Snuggling into the deep folds of the fabric Danny could already see the ectoplasm start to seep back out of the floor as his eyes started to slip closed.

He hummed deeply at the unexpected comfort that he had found and let himself slip slowly back to sleep.

When Dick saw Jason the next afternoon he didn’t like the way that his younger brother's eyes were lined with dark bruising from a lack of sleep.

“Problem?”

Jason shook his head even as he took a deep draw from the energy drink he was clutching.

“3 out of my 4…employees.”

Lieutenants, Dick’s brain replaced the slowly enunciated word.

“Came to the meeting we had scheduled.”

“And the fourth?”

“No call. No show. I might have to get HR involved if this continues or maybe a welfare check if they don’t get in contact with me.”

Dick nodded thoughtfully.

HR would probably be the mousy little man that had been working on Jason’s books both legal and not for the past few years. T he man seemed to blend into furniture while also being comparable to Red Robin with his skill with computers. The welfare check was probably going to be an oversized boot to whichever door the missing lieutenant was known to hide behind.

Dick had never actually been to the warehouse that Jason had converted into an open plan office space for the people who worked under him but he had seen the blueprints and been impressed.

Jason had even begrudgingly brought some of his paperwork to Bruce when he had been in the process of legitimizing his business.

A quick glance through the documents had shown that Jason had been deadly serious about taking care of the people that worked for him. W-2’s, health insurance, the whole nine yards.

You could say a lot of things about Jason but he had never failed to commit.

As Red Hood he controlled the trafficking of drugs into the Narrows, made sure that the area children were kept well clear of it, cracked down on violent crime both day and night and ran a legitimate charity as Jason Todd-Wayne. 

The man needed to have employees that he could trust.

If only to make sure that he didn’t run himself completely ragged.

No matter what he or Tim might think, sleep was actually a required activity that both of them needed to partake in on a more regular basis. 

Dick clapped his hand on Jason’s shoulder in commiseration.

“Hopefully nothing too exciting comes from that. Maybe he just forgot.”

Jason nodded in feigned agreement as the pair turned to start walking towards the Bed, Bath, and Beyond that they had agreed to meet at.

Like hell had the man forgotten a meeting but Jason pushed that out of his mind for the moment.

H e was determined to make the strange man more comfortable as soon as possible.

Even if he was living in a murder house.

Dick had needed to physically remove over a dozen didn’t blankets from Jason’s grasp while they had wandered through the too bright lights aisles of Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

Every time he had seen another one Jason had fussed and compared the textures between the fluffy dark green throw and the next blanket that had landed in his line of sight.

" You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“You really think he’ll like this blanket?”

“I think he’ll like any of these very nice blankets but if you get him more than one or two he’s going to be overwhelmed by choice.”

Jason’s eyes flicked over the remaining options in front of him.

He snagged another blanket that was a dark gray that wouldn’t show dirt too easily.

“Two then. One for now and one for when I switch out the green to wash it. So he doesn’t think I took it away.”

Since he was laser focused on the texture in front of him Jason couldn’t have seen Dick tilt his head slightly back, his eyes squeezed shut for just a moment while he silently asked for patience.

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t patronize me, Dick. ”

Dick bit back a smile while he watched his brother, hulking and bulky with muscle, slowly pet against the grain of a throw blanket covered in mushrooms.

“I’m not. From what we’ve been able to piece together about this guy he deserves every bit of our consideration. But buying the wrong...” Dick flicked his hands up to create quotation marks in the air “blanket is not going to be the reason this guy tips over the edge.”

Rubbing his thumb and forefingers together this time on a blue and white check fabric Jason continued to avoid eye contact.

“I scared him. I’m always talking about giving people a chance. Making sure that they’re not judged for their pasts. But I didn’t even give him a second to try and explain himself, just treated him like a threat from the get go.”

"Yeah.” Dick’s voice was soft. “Just because we’re all trying to move past our own personal histories doesn’t mean that we weren’t shaped by them. He scared you too.”

“He didn’t mean to though.”

“The hell he didn’t. We’ve all seen that recording. The only reason that man didn’t suplex you into the ground was because of that muzzle.”

Dick’s eyes flicked around them, triple-checking that nobody was within earshot of their conversation. 

“He used those electrical snips you left him. He’s staying in that shitty little efficiency in your territory. Trust goes both ways and it seems to me that you're both working on it.”

“What other fucking choice does he have?”

Jason growled in frustration and swiped his hands through his hair leaving it curling wildly and swept up off of his face.

“Whoever he is, that man can fly, turn invisible and slip through solid objects. He’s got a whole lot of options even if he doesn’t want to be a hero or a rogue.”

Dick clapped his hand up on the taller man's shoulder and started to drag him out of the aisle that they had been occupying.

“Now, let’s go look at the cleaning products. I’m thinking we go for unscented and dye free. Let’s try to not induce any unexpected allergic reactions in your guest.”

The employees of the thrift store had given him a wide berth but Jason was sure that they had still heard him as he muttered murderously. 

He picked through the selection of cheap baskets that had all probably come from some sort of department store.

“...cheap. Made in China. Cheap and made in China. Whatever happened to craftsmanship I ask you…”

Jason would have had to be a lot more oblivious than he had ever been to not notice the mechanical sound of a phone snapping a picture of him.

The Narrows had accepted Jason Todd’s return from the dead with open arms but Gotham as a whole had been less than impressed. 

He was 100% sure that picture was going to be sold to the local paper with some sort of ridiculous headline.

Riches to Rags: Gothams (Least?) Favorite Son Forced to Shop Second Hand.

As though choosing to shop at a local thrift store was something to be ashamed of.

He had his own fucking money.

Hell he could steal one of Bruce’s credit cards and the man wouldn’t say a single word.

It was the principle of the thing.

He could have purchased blankets made from the furry asses of rabbits mixed with clouds.

Jason may have not had the best start in life, even compared to some of his brothers, but he remembered that sickening feeling of being given things that he felt he hadn’t earned.

Money was basically Bruce’s love language.

The man could be an emotional brick wall.

He hadn't been able to verbalize his feelings in a supportive or even normal way. It had taken a lot of fighting and hard work on both their parts, but Jason knew deep in his bones that Bruce loved him.

Shockingly, the man who dressed up as a giant bat to fight crime didn’t have the most healthy of coping mechanisms.

When Jason had first come to live with Bruce he had felt those debts piling up like boulders in his chest.

He didn’t want to do the same thing to his stranger.

Jason had thought about purchasing a phone for the man but that had also felt like a step too far.

The pen and notepad had felt like a good compromise.

The guy already knew that Jason was sneaking into the apartment he had selected and hadn’t seemed too upset or paranoid of the clippers that he had left.  

If Jason had been raised by absolutely any other family he would have been wringing his hands while he watched the young man gently sort through the gift basket that he had finally selected.

To be fair if he had been raised by absolutely any other family he wouldn’t have been spying on a maybe alien on a rooftop across the street with a pair of Batnoculars. (Jason and Bruce blamed that particular nomenclature on a pre-teen Dick).

He fumbled them hard though when the white-haired stranger disappeared in a flash of light and he saw the bare skin of what looked like a human man's back, black hair brushed his shoulders and scars criss-crossed his back. The skin quickly disappeared underneath the oversized hoodie that Jason had snagged from the same thrift store that he had purchased the basket from. '

Another flash of light and the man was back to white hair and the hazmat suit before he disappeared into absolutely thin air.

Jason slipped away as quickly as he could manage.

It was one thing for the man to know that Jason was leaving him creepy little presents.

If he got caught staring through a pair of over-powered binoculars Jason wouldn’t be surprised if the man drop kicked him across the length of the city.

No need to push his luck at this point. 

[dindjarindiaries]

The Unstoppable Tide

summary: Once Hunter finally let go, there was no holding back, and you were the only person who could keep him from drowning.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: hurt/comfort, angst and fluff, trauma, mentions of physical torture, injuries, nightmares, anxiety attack, canon compliant (tech doesn’t live), mentions of death

rating: T

word count: 4.627k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You woke to an unfamiliar room, and the pitch black shadows that blanketed it were no help in trying to investigate your surroundings. With a silent yawn, you blinked into the darkness, lifting your head from the pillow as you did so. The movement stretched the fabric of your tunic uncomfortably, and looking down, you fell upon an odd realization.

You were still in your clothes from yesterday. You frowned and attempted to jog your tired memory. Your faithfulness to your nighttime routine was rarely ever interrupted or deterred, especially since you had all returned to Pabu for good.

Then again, it had been a whirlwind of a week. From losing Omega again to getting her back and taking up permanent residence on Pabu, there were a lot of things the group was sorting through, yourself included. It was no wonder why you had been too exhausted to even exchange your clothes.

But that still didn’t explain the unfamiliar room. One glance at your surroundings was all it took, because now that your eyes had adjusted, you could finally see the silhouette positioned at the end of the bed you were currently lying in.

Your eyes widened as the memory washed over you. This was Hunter’s room, and you certainly hadn’t meant to fall asleep inside of it.

You had been helping him rebandage the wounds on his side, a nicely-healing gash that covered his broken ribs from the hit he took in an explosion on Tantiss. That alone had taken a lot of convincing; Hunter’s defenses had somewhat fallen after you had all brought Omega back to Pabu safely, but they went right back up once he had gotten a wink of rest.

As you finished wrapping him up, you had started to gently lecture him on the importance of getting more sleep, as he had clearly been avoiding it ever since that first night back. The circles under his eyes were almost as dark as the left side of his ribcage, where his wounds were. At some point, however, Hunter had fallen asleep during your lecture, and you had let yourself linger, if only to share a peacefully quiet moment with him.

You must have also joined him in slumber. It didn’t have to be a bad thing, not at all as far as you were concerned, but Hunter was in too fragile of a state for you to be overstaying welcomes—and the fact he had his back to you now was even more worrying.

Hunter wasn’t even reacting to the fact that your heartbeat had clearly picked up ever since you woke, and that alone promised that something very, very wrong was happening with him. He wasn’t listening to his powerful senses. He was listening to something else.

You dared to sit up as you held a breath in your chest. He was hunched over slightly, as if he was leaning on something, and he was still without a tunic, thanks to the fresh bandage on his side. Otherwise, he was completely still, making him look like one of the other many shadows scattered throughout the room.

You managed to swallow around the lump in your throat and moved forward. Once you got closer to him, you hesitated, taking in what you could from this distance. He had one arm crossed over himself, and the other was leaning against it as he pinched the bridge of his nose—a typical position when his senses were in disarray, or when the weight of the galaxy was simply too much.

In this case, it was probably both, judging by the deep furrow in his brow.

You finally sat at Hunter’s side, letting your legs hang off the edge of the bed as you looked over at him. His eyes were still shut tight, and like before, he remained unmoving. You dared to lift your hand to his bare shoulder, touching the warmth of his skin with as much delicacy as you could manage.

“Hey.”

Your voice was a mere whisper to avoid shocking him and his senses. You resisted the urge to flinch when Hunter lowered his hand enough to turn his head towards you. His dark eyes widened just a bit more than usual.

“You okay?”

Hunter’s lips parted as if he was about to respond, but nothing came out. His shoulder rose and fell under your touch with the unsteady breath he took. You grimaced at the sound of it, a gesture that only deepened when Hunter lifted his hand to ease yours off of him.

“I’m sorry,” the guilt began pouring in waves, “I should’ve asked you before I—.”

“It’s fine.”

Hunter’s voice was curt and rougher than usual as he spoke. You really did flinch that time, unused to hearing him speak like that. Still, there was a softness in the way he eased your hand onto your own leg before letting go.

“Just… go back to your bed.” He lifted his fingers to his nose again and pinched it even tighter, his eyes soon following suit.

You sat there, undecided, for a few long heartbeats. You folded your hands together in your lap and dared to speak up again. “Hunter…”

“Don’t.” Hunter tensed more than he had before, which was visible without a tunic to conceal the muscles on his upper half. His eyes squeezed even harder, as did his brow. “Please, just leave and get some rest.”

But that was the last thing you wanted to do, knowing he was in such a state. You could see that he had started to tremble, something that was evident not just in his hands, but also in his voice—and his breathing, which was only getting more and more labored. Hunter was trying to hide it, but it was clearly becoming too much to control.

And he wanted you to leave him to deal with it on his own.

“I’ll be fine.” You nodded and leaned closer to him. “You don’t have to be alone right now. Let me help you.”

Something in your words made Hunter snap. He turned towards you even more quickly than last time, his words biting through gritted teeth. “Leave.”

You stared back at him in disbelief, though you had at least leaned back in surprise at the quick motion. Hunter let out an exhale that was nearly a gasp, as if he was losing air. His gaze couldn’t meet yours as he instead focused on the floor, his chest now rising and falling more rapidly than before.

“Please...”

Hunter once again wrapped an arm around himself and leaned the other against it, though this time, he tightened his hand into a fist and rested his forehead against it. He was so tense that every muscle you could see was pulled taut, which certainly wouldn’t bode well for his injuries.

“Please make this easier for me, and leave.”

Your eyes were burning with unshed tears when he finally went silent again. You weren’t sure if they were from the hurt he was causing you by pushing you away like this or from the intense concern and sympathy you had for him. Either way, you weren’t going to ignore his request again, not when he was already millimeters away from fracturing in a way you had never witnessed before.

You rose from the bed and eased yourself over to the door, only pausing again when you were standing directly across from it. You spared a look at Hunter over your shoulder. His face was in his hands, as if he was just waiting for your heartbeat to fade before letting himself shatter. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to step forward through the sliding door, though you remained glued in place when it shut behind you.

Because you heard that first cry, that heart-splintering sob that no one should ever have to let out by themselves. The sound of someone so strong finally falling underneath the weight of everything burden they have been carrying for way too long. The door did a poor job of muffling what was happening inside that room, and the last thing you wanted to do was leave. You wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway.

Hunter would always be the first to say that none of you were keen on following orders.

You turned and let the door open again, admitting yourself back inside the dark space. Hunter looked up at you from his hands, and what you were met with splintered your heart into a million different fragments. His face was screwed up in a kind of vulnerable despair and panic that you had never seen from him before, not even after Tech fell and Omega was captured the first time.

You strode towards him. “I’m not letting you go through this alone, Hunter.”

You stopped just a few paces away from where he still sat on the edge of the bed, his wet eyes glistening when a fraction of moonlight caught them through the blinds of the viewport.

“You don’t have to hide from me. I know that you’re—.”

You cut yourself off when Hunter suddenly stood and approached you. He wrapped his arms around you and splayed his palms upon your back, holding you so tightly against him that you lost your breath for a moment. He eased his grasp when he heard the breath escape your lungs, but the desperation remained, evident in the way he trembled against you.

Lastly, he buried his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing you in with a sharp exhale like you alone could save him.

You finally recovered enough from your initial shock to hold him back, with one hand positioned on his head as the other ran over his back. You were careful with his wounds that were still healing, but there was no doubt now that his external injuries weren’t nearly as bad as those he had been hiding within himself all this time.

Hopefully, he was ready to heal those untreated wounds, rather than letting them fester within himself.

Hunter wasn’t really crying, not from what you could tell, but the trembling was getting worse—as was his breathing. It was easy to understand now why he couldn’t grasp your senses before; his own heart was beating hard enough to drown out just about everything else.

“I’ve got you.” Your voice was a soft whisper as you repeated assurances he had certainly said to you and the others a dozen times over, when he held onto his composure for the sake of soothing everyone else around him. “You’re safe.”

It was hard to pinpoint what exactly had Hunter breaking down like this, but your best guess was that his memories of Tantiss were haunting him, however brief his time spent there actually was. He had given you a brief account purely for medical reasons, but the others had filled you in on what they could.

He had endured awful torture, all while he was still processing the pain of his untreated wounds and feeling the pain of them more than anyone else in the galaxy ever would, thanks to his senses—senses that were supposed to be a gift, used against him.

You tightened your jaw and closed your eyes. Hunter didn’t need anger; that was one of the emotions that had caused him to spiral like this. He needed softness, reassurance, and comfort.

“No one will hurt you like that again.” Your voice was as gentle as the hand that ran over the hair at the crown of his head, minding the edges of his bandana. “I promise.”

Hunter physically relaxed at that, but his breathing still wasn’t getting any better. He started to hold you tighter again, and you could hear another gasped exhale buried into your shoulder.

It was clear to you now what was happening, and despite the way you were relishing in his touch, it wasn’t going to help him any longer. You eased your hands onto his shoulders and urged him to pull away from you. His gaze found yours for the first time that night, and your heart dropped into your stomach at everything you found within it.

It was a leader who was afraid, and had no idea what to do next. An eldest brother who failed to find any guidance. A soldier whose anxiety, trauma, and PTSD was getting the best of him for the first time.

He had been so strong to fight it off in the past, but it made you ache that he even had to do that. You should have been there for him before this moment. It shouldn’t have had to come to this.

But you could ruminate over that later. For now, you needed to provide him with the solution he was clearly seeking. You eased him back down onto the edge of the bed by his shoulders, keeping your actions slow and steady as you nodded at him.

“Your mind’s thinking faster than your body can keep up with.”

You ran your thumbs over the skin on his shoulders. Hunter’s gaze never left yours, as if you were anchoring him to reality.

“That’s what’s happening right now. We just have to focus on one thing at a time. Okay?”

Hunter nodded. You offered him a small smile.

“Let’s start by getting your breathing back to normal.” You stood close enough to him that you could ease the side of his head against your chest, letting him and his senses have easier access to your heart and your lungs. “Focus your senses on my lungs, and follow my breaths.”

You inhaled steadily, held it for a few heartbeats, and then let it go again in a long exhale. Your eyes fell closed as you repeated the cycle, but after the fourth or fifth time, you reopened your eyes to watch Hunter’s progress.

His eyes had also closed, and thankfully, his breathing was indeed getting better. He had taken the liberty of setting his hands on your hips to steady himself, but you didn’t mind. You committed the feeling to memory even if your focus remained on his well-being.

After a few more cycles of breathing, you spoke up into the silence. “Better?”

Hunter nodded against your chest, easing his head back up. You let him go, already missing the warmth of his touch as he withdrew it from your hips. His hands held his thighs tight before they slid down to his knees, his stare now darting wildly around the room as if he was truly understanding what had happened.

You tightened your lips and took your spot on the bed beside him again. At least this time, he didn’t push you away. In fact, he kept you close enough for your arm to brush against his, even if he still couldn’t look at you. You let him guide the conversation, and as heavy as his next exhale was, at least it was steady.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Hunter’s voice was hoarser than usual, and that was saying something for a man who always sounded as if he had roughened up his voice on a daily basis.

You frowned and leaned forward. “Why?”

A muscle in Hunter’s jaw ticked before he finally looked over at you again. His gaze was conflicted, still full of distress while also finding some semblance of comfort in you. “Because.” He looked down at his hands, which flexed over his own legs. “I’m not supposed to fall apart.”

“We’re all bound to at some point.” You eased your hand upon his arm. “Especially when we’ve been through as much as you have.”

Hunter shook his head. “No. I shouldn’t.” He spared a look at you, but it seemed as if he was too guilty to even sustain the glance as his gaze lowered back to his hands. “I have no right to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What are you talking about, Hunter?”

His expression morphed into something heavier, and his voice lowered so much that you had to strain to hear it. “Everything that’s happened since Kaller has been my fault.”

You scoffed. “That’s just not true, Hunter.”

“It is.”

Hunter was stern as he finally looked over at you. There was fire in his eyes, but it wasn’t aimed towards you. It was aimed towards himself.

“If I had taken Crosshair with us before we even left Kamino the first time, or if I had at least gone back for him soon after that… there would have been no rescue mission to attempt on Eriadu.”

Hunter’s voice started to shake again, but not as violently as before. Your shoulders fell at the pure grief and despair in his words.

“Tech would still be here.”

You shook your head. “No. I’m not letting you go down this path.” You took his hands and held them between yours. “Because if Tech were here, he’d been absolutely grilling you about how wrong you are right now.”

That at least made Hunter scoff in amusement.

“You said it yourself to Crosshair at that outpost. We didn’t understand what was going on back then.” You lifted your brow at him. “How were you, or any of us, supposed to know what the chips were like, until we had to see it ourselves with Wrecker?”

Hunter sighed. “Yeah, and that should’ve pushed us harder to get Crosshair back.”

“And I’m sure it would’ve, if you hadn’t been shot in the chestplate by that bounty hunter who took Omega. We had a lot going on at that point, Hunter. It was survival mode.”

Hunter circled his jaw. “That’s not an excuse to leave one of our own behind.” He almost looked dizzy as he freed a hand from your grasp to press against his forehead. “Kriff, we… we didn’t even go back for Tech’s body.” He ground out the next name through gritted teeth. “Hemlock was the one to salvage his goggles.”

You gave the hand in your grasp a gentle squeeze. “If we had gone back for his body, we wouldn’t have made it out of there alive.” You fought through the heaviness in your own chest. “Which is the whole reason why Tech sacrificed his life in the first place.”

Hunter’s gaze looked towards the viewport, allowing the moonlight to yet again catch his face. Even with the tattooed side of his face turned towards you, you could still see the glistening of a new tear on the skin beneath his eye, though his body language screamed for him to ignore it. His tone gave nothing away as he spoke again.

“I thought it was gonna happen again.”

You swallowed hard. “What?”

Hunter closed his eyes and hung his head, though he otherwise stood strong. “That I was gonna lose more of them. Of us.” His voice was strained as he went on. “It was the torture that woke me up for the first time since I got knocked out at the hangar. I knew Wrecker and Crosshair were nearby, but their heartbeats were weaker than normal, and the shocks were… overwhelming my senses, anyway.”

You accidentally tightened your grasp on Hunter’s hand hard enough to make him wince. You quickly relaxed, forcing yourself to bite your tongue and let Hunter continue.

“Hemlock came in, and he warned me that history would repeat itself with them.” Hunter shook his head. “I told him we would survive, but a small part of me believed him. The same part that watched that doctor toss me my brother’s own shattered goggles.”

One of your hands drifted up his arm as you held it, your cheek pressing against his skin for comfort. “Hunter…”

“I knew we should’ve listened to Crosshair and stayed in hiding, but everyone wanted the chance to get him back, and I did, too.” Hunter reopened his eyes and looked at you again. “I wanted it so badly. But if I had just done that before, if I had made him come with us off Kamino…”

“Hunter.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and lifted your brow, seeking permission to speak. Hunter’s silence allowed you to go on. “You gave him a choice to come with us, and he said no. After the chip took his choices away from him, would you really have wanted to take another one away, too? Even if it wasn’t the right one in your eyes?”

Hunter grimaced, and ultimately, he shook his head.

“Exactly.” You paused, searching his gaze. “You can’t take responsibility for all of Crosshair’s actions.”

“And I won’t, because Crosshair wouldn’t want me to.” Hunter sighed. “But I still can’t help wondering what would have been if I hadn’t let us leave him behind for so long.”

“In that case, the rest of us are just as guilty as you. I don’t remember us putting any pressure on you to go back for him.”

Hunter looked around the room and blinked, as if he was truly processing your words. You took that as an invitation to continue.

“And honestly, Hunter? All roads would have led back to Tantiss, anyway.”

That caught Hunter’s attention again. He glanced at you in disbelief as you went on.

“The Empire, and Hemlock, would always come for Omega. You shouldn’t have had to go through what you did on Tantiss, and every day ever since I’ve wished that I could’ve done something to prevent it, but now that Hemlock’s dead? We don’t ever have to worry about it again.”

You sighed and looked down at your hand, which was now interlocked with Hunter’s own.

“We freed her and those clones. That’s what matters now. One life… in exchange for many, many others.”

You found yourself smiling as you imagined Tech’s voice in your head.

“A certain someone would have been very satisfied by that outcome.”

Hunter huffed, his eyes closing as he nodded. “Yeah. Would’ve rambled on about the quantitative value of it or something.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Exactly.”

You sat in the silence for a few moments, your steady gaze tracking Hunter’s face and tracing the lines of his tattoo until he reopened his eyes. When his stare met yours, you spoke once again.

“The past can’t be undone, Hunter. I know you know that. It’ll take time for these wounds of yours to heal,” you nodded towards his wrapped side, “just like the ones you got on Tantiss, but all you can do now is move forward with what and who you have.”

Hunter took a deep breath, but ultimately, he nodded—with a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’d like that.”

You couldn’t help returning his smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, looking almost nervous as he did so. “I just… I think, like with this one,” he glanced down at his side, “I might need you to help me keep an eye on these wounds.”

“Of course.” You wasted no time reassuring him. “You don’t even have to ask.”

Hunter was beaming at you, now, but your words forced you to reckon with the way you approached this entire situation. You resisted the urge to let out a frustrated groan as you deflated.

“But… I know I should’ve asked a second time before I barged in here.” You looked down. “I’m sorry if I pressured you to talk this through with me. I didn’t—.”

If the hand on your cheek wasn’t enough to make you lose the words inside your throat, then the feeling of Hunter’s mouth on yours certainly was. You were too shocked to do anything at first, especially with everything you were still processing from this night, but you composed yourself quickly enough to avoid letting Hunter think that you didn’t want this gesture that you had absolutely been craving for longer than you’d ever admit.

Hunter only kissed you long enough to make you realize just how badly you needed to do it again, though the warm smile he wore as he pulled away and faced you again made the separation worth it.

“Don’t apologize for that.” He lifted his brow and chuckled in genuine amusement. “I’ve always needed someone who can out-stubborn me.”

You laughed at that. “You sure do make it a challenge, Sarge.”

Hunter gave his eyes a playful role. “I haven’t technically had that rank ever since we deserted.”

“Yet you still act like one.”

Hunter huffed. You let out a light sigh and rested your head against his arm again, closing your eyes in content. Your thoughts, however, still lingered on the larger topic at hand, and you grimaced as you spoke on the dark topic one last time.

“I really am sorry about what you had to go through on Tantiss, and that I wasn’t there to stop it. At least, not in time.” You tightened your jaw. “I wish I could kill Hemlock again for what he did to you.”

The feeling of Hunter’s head against your own caused you to reopen your eyes. You smiled into the darkness of the room. “That just might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You chuckled and shook your head, minding his own that still rested against yours. “You’re crazy.” You couldn’t have put more affection into the words if you had tried.

After all, it was that craziness that had drawn you to Hunter and the squad in the first place.

After a few more sweet moments of silence, you patted his arm. “Alright, time to get some rest. Those wounds aren’t gonna heal themselves.”

You looked up at Hunter, whose brow shot up at your words. “Which wounds?”

“All of them.” You held his face for a moment and ran your thumbs over the dark circles under his eyes. “Literally nothing is made better by you avoiding sleep.” You gestured back towards the viewport. “There are no more battles out there for you. You can afford to rest now.”

Hunter shrugged and encouraged you to follow him back towards the other end of the bed. “Maybe I just couldn’t rest because I needed you with me more than I realized.”

You let out a dramatic scoff. “Then thank the stars you finally realized that.” As you laid beside him, you fixed him with a serious look. “I hope you know I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you get proper rest, now.”

Hunter raised his brow beside you. “Whatever it takes? Should I put up more of a fight, then?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes before you took the initiative and leaned in for a quick kiss. “If you want more, then you need to sleep.” You nestled yourself into his chest, letting him hold you the way he clearly wanted to, given the hardly concealed desperation of his touch. “Final offer.”

His voice grumbled his response into your head. “Fine.”

Now hidden from his view, you smiled to yourself in victory. There was a lot to mourn, but also a lot to look forward to. Peace was certainly something you had to earn, but with the right people, you didn’t mind the process.

And it was a relief to know that every wave could truly break, wash away, and still return stronger than before. You had no doubt that Hunter would do the same.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

[turtle-steverogers]

i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

[nevertheless-moving]

Jiang Wanyin's Dog Part Two (MDZS AU #7)

Part One

Jiang Feinman the diplomat is horrified that his sons were apparently actively training for war behind his back. And by all accounts, his worst fears are confirmed — he who trains for war trains to start war. He only believes half of what he hears of his boys actions at the Wen Indoctrination Camp (the Xuanwu Cave Massacre, some are calling it) but half is enough. Incredibly disappointed in both of them — also why demonic cultivation? Why? Where did he go wrong? But for some reason the more he tries to talk, to teach, to explain, the more he warns about the unrighteousness of striking first, the worse their conversations go. He's used to that with Jiang Cheng, but now Wei Ying, too? The more he pushes, the less they tell him, so eventually he stops pushing.

(They actually did initially intend to explain the time travel, but he was so disappointed by all the murdering that neither of them want to get into all the much much more worse things they did in their previous life so they just…don't. They don't explain shit.)

He still supports the secret Jiang war preparations cover story, pretending to have approved it in advance to other sects, because what else can he do. Really not thrilled about being backed into a corner on that, even though he does eventually accept and even admire the invention of the ghost path, once Wei Wuxian explains it better. Wei Wuxian maybe cries a little at his Uncle's approval.

Too much faith that the whole perfect servant/ master schtick is a front for brotherhood even before the actual reconciliation, but eh, they get there eventually, so he’s not wrong. Manages the homefront during the campaign mostly, though he has his moments of battlefield glory. Major diplomatic success in getting the Jin Sect to side more definitively with the sunshot campaign.

…Definitely dies. Not right away, but he's not meant for war, ya know? Maybe gets the actual time travel explanation on his death bed. Maybe. Touching goodbye either way.

Then, you know that scene in Good Will Hunting where Robin Williams says it’s not your fault over and over again? That, except Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin are both saying it to each other. Clinches the reconnection. It’s the worst sort of do over, but Jiang Cheng blaming Wei Ying for his parents first deaths was one of their lowest moments, arguably the point things really started to break between them, so having the perspective to very actively not do that is Big. I’m sorry — this au is about excruciating Yunmeng bros reconciliation, I’ve got to kill at least one family member.

-

Yu Ziyuan approving of the cool distance between the two, proud of her son’s obvious command over Wei Ying, but disgusted by the fact that her son seems to have completely given up on surpassing him. Flabbergasted that A-Cheng is now intercepting Zidian’s strikes on the shameful cretin — his to punish?? What the fuck does that mean? Who’s in charge here? How dare you speak to your mother like that.

Ultimately, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to handle being around his mother. He recognizes many of the things he likes least about himself in her. He recognizes many of the things that made him a successful sect leader in her. I mean, on a certain level he already knew he had become his mother, but holy shit.

She's...mixed on handling her son's ascent, to say the least. The fact that his unquestionable power is so inextricably linked to his command over Wei Ying's even more unquestionable power fucks with her so bad. At least Jiang Cheng had some time to get used to the concept.

He's in his late 30s and bristles at any indication of being subordinate to anyone — Mom's included. He also wants to break down in tears and hide behind her, because that's his MOM, but he can’t do that. He’s sect heir. He's started a war. He's leading a war.

Ok, one (1) night crying into her robes that they never speak of again.

She tends to run battlefields and missions away from the duo. Serious pushback from Jiang Cheng about talking down Wei Ying in front of others, purely for pragmatic reasons, of course — that’s their sects best weapon. If she survives the war ("So what if he's not coming back? Can't I do anything without him?") then she spends much of her son’s rule night hunting away from the sect. Does NOT get told about time travel any time soon because they know she would press for details and then kill Wei Wuxian.

-

Jiang Yanli incredibly concerned about her boys after they come back from evil summer camp covered in blood and VERY CLEARLY WAY TOO FUCKED UP FOR A FEW MONTHS AWAY?? Excuse you both you are very clever but are you seriously trying to convince me that you invented a whole ass entire dangerous cultivation path while I was around without me noticing? A-xian, a-cheng are you calling me stupid? No? Good.

On a meta-level, she's built her life around parenting the two of them, there's absolutely no way she buys any story about keeping a long time secret under her nose. The first and possibly only one they actually explain the time travel to, even if they can’t bring themselves to tell her everything.

It's deeply distressing to not actually be the oldest sibling anymore, considering how much she defined herself by that, but her brothers don't actually seem to have noticed, so it works out fine.

Her role in the war is slightly larger than canon; the fact that she's bringing an entire support staff of cooks and medics and cleaners that report to her definitely elevates her status and influence. (Headcanon that she basically managed Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian's PR during the war — she's a lot better equipped to do so in this timeline).

She also would also get Instant Respect as one of a handful of people who holds Wuxian's leash, except Wei Wuxian tends to completely drops all necromantic activity when he's within 50 feet of her. It's actually kindof a problem. He's supposed to be passively maintaining some stuff but he's so freaked out about accidentally hurting her that a few perfectly good corpse armies collapse, meaning he has to raise them again from scratch.

They don't get too involved with it, but a few well timed words avoid the worst of the Soup Accusation Debacle and slightly accelerate the Zixuan/Yanli timeline.

Jin Zixuan is bewildered but mostly relieved by the fact that the lead Jiang disciples abrupt personality shift at the start of the war also came with an apparent rise in personal respect of him specifically? Is this because he obviously stepped to defend Mianmian, even though Wanyin and Wuxian did the real work? Jiang Wanyin is noticeably more courteous speaking to him than pretty much anyone else from his clan. Wei Wuxian is a bit harder to read, as he's stopped talked as much, which is bizarre and also fucking terrifying.

(There's a lot to think and feel in the Cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter. But the fact that Wei Wuxian does not like him and absolutely could have killed him anytime he wanted is definitely up there.)

It's just — even further into the war, when Wuxian starts sometimes relaxing again during downtime, he still avoids Zixuan. Weird but also thank fuck.

-

Lan Zhan is living through a war, sure. But uniquely among his peers, he's also living through a Dark Romance novel! <3

The fun, mischievous boy who he fell in love with at first sight is:

1) the most terrifying powerful dark being who ever lived

2) mildly implied to have ALWAYS secretly been like this and the disobedient but good natured thing was just a cover for the dark truth. Or he might have been corrupted at some point. It's unclear.

3) already in an intense situation-ship with his shidi. (Jiang Wanyin snapping at Wei Ying to stop bothering Lan Zhan and he apologizes politely and then leaves. (Wei Ying definitely yells at Jiang Cheng in private for that but they did agree that he wouldn’t give any public evidence of division with the Jiang sect and publicly flirting with Second Master Lan could admittedly be read as split loyalties)) .

But IN PRIVATE —

(Once the yunmeng bros reconciliation starts getting underway Jiang Cheng feels a little bad about how obviously heartbroken Wei Ying is over losing his husband, and formally arranges with Lan sect for spiritual cleansing sessions after major battles as part of managing his first disciple’s cultivation. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng are completely surprised when Lan Wanjii himself volunteers.)

— Well, when the two of them are alone together, Wei Ying is — not exactly the same person he fell in love with. But he’s still very much Wei Ying. Teasing, provocative, brilliant, righteous — and, and this can’t be stressed enough — OBSCENELY sexy.

(Yes, Lan Zhan has learned that his bad taste extends beyond what was, in hindsight, rather petty rule breaking. The whole 'One Man Army' thing is attractive alright? The flute is attractive. Gods help him, even the red eyes are attractive.)

But in private — I mean, the first few times Lan Zhan walks in to play Cleansing only to find Wei Ying tied up provocatively from a ‘binding talisman accident’ he takes it at face value. The man's been churning out one revolutionary invention after another, obviously that requires some testing. But it keeps happening, and Lan Zhan is increasingly panicked that Wei Ying can tell what its doing to his penis. He can’t tell, right? Lan Zhan is wearing extra layers to these sessions for that reason exactly and it’s not like his face is easy to read. He can’t know about what he's dreamed of doing with his ribbon. He can't know. He can’t know.

But shit like that keeps happening. Wei Ying casually mentions that he’s been working on a ritual that might make it possible for men to get pregnant, just as an idle experiment, but of course the only ethical person to test it on is himself. Lan Zhan’s dick gets so hard so fast that he almost passes out. Wei Ying, clearly mistaking the sudden lack of visible blood in his body for disgust (please let him think that, please, please) pouts and teases, “What, you don’t think I’d look good pregnant?” Gods be good, he’s holding his stomach and looking up at Lan Zhan through his eyelashes. Lan Zhan didn't even know he was into that! Does this make him more of a cutsleeve or less?? Very nearly goes insane and tries to breed him on the spot. Instead makes a looney toons style Lan Zhan shaped hole in the side of the tent to get away before he bends the man over

Even setting aside the...specifically affecting moments, Wei Ying is so exhausted and soft around Lan Zhan. It makes sense, he's been conquering battlefields, he's been reinventing cultivation, of course he's drained afterwards, that's why Lan Zhan is here — to help rebalance his spiritual energy. But he begs Lan Zhan to take care of him, to feed him, to help him into bed, and it hurts. He knows that it's at least in part a joke but he can't tell how much is him exaggerating his weakness to get Lan Zhan to react and how much is him actually needing help because Jiang fucking Wanyin is ordering him to destroy himself day in and day out, and the whole thing is doing terrible things to the inside of his stomach.

Worry and confusion and fear and anger choking his words even worse than usual, until all he can do is repeat rules about staying away from the crooked path. Lan Zhan scolds him for using resentful energy, sneers at him; he can hear himself and he sounds every inch the jade statue. But somehow, miraculously, Wei Ying understands what he means. He thanks him for being there, for caring what happens to him. Wei Ying tries to reassure him that he'll be alright, really, and how he got 'I am worried about your health' from "your way of living is an abomination" is a mystery, but Lan Zhan is so, so grateful.

Wait.

Fuck.

Wei Ying can either read his face, his words, or his thoughts. FUCK, HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING TO MY PENIS.

In public, Wei Wuxian is obediently violent. He's heretical and hyper competent and the only thing that distresses Lan Zhan more than Jiang Wanyin's callous treatment of his undeserved loyalty and talent is the fact that he's starting to wake up in a cold sweat from dreams where Lan Zhan is his leader and Wei Ying follows his orders without hesitation. What does that even mean. He doesn't want to be a sect leader! That would mean that his brother was dead and he would have to talk to people all the time and he doesn't even want Wei Ying to kneel before him! Not like that — not at all — fucking hell, he should not be masturbating this much during a war.

(Not explaining the time travel/ marriage to Lan Zhan is definitely their worst argument after coming back. Difficult compromise says Wei Ying can explain whatever, marry whoever, leave the sect — but only after the war is won and Jiang Sect is secure. Jiang Wanyin does not need Lan Zhan trying to convince Wei Ying to give up demonic cultivation any harder than he already is. He doesn't need him weighing in on shit he doesn't understand with his more-righteous-than-you-attitude. Most importantly, he definitely doesn't need Wei Ying to be running of after his husband when he's supposed to be obeying Jiang Cheng's fucking orders. Wei Ying reluctantly agrees, but he can't give up on having something with Lan Zhan. The end result is maybe a little not great to Lan Zhan, but you know... what's Wei Ying gonna do? Betray his brother's trust? Not chase Lan Zhan's dick? It's an impossible situation and you should feel bad for him. Plus, Lan Zhan's having a hard enough time anyway, he's not good with chang. He would probably not handle having the 'died and then married' bombshells dropped on him particularly well. Yeah...

Anyway Lan Zhan is very much going through 'he's such a tortured soul...only I see the vulnerable, loving truth... unless the soft self is the lie and the darkness is the real him... which would be kindof hot... bad, but also kindof hot... because if he actually is irredeemably evil than everything he does in private is him seducing me on purpose, which would be good except it would be a lie which would be bad but maybe he would do things to my body before he did whatever dark demonic things hes planning ... maybe I could convince him to join the light in truth... no i should have more faith in him he clearly still believes in justice and protecting the weak... unless that actually is at Jiang Wanyin's orders but I'm 80% sure that's a lie and Wei Ying is actually the one insisting we don't take food from farmers without repaying them and I'm even more certain he's the one making sure we accept Wen surrenders... I'm a terrible person for doubting the moments we've shared...

Lan Zhan eventually has a minor emotional breakdown and goes to his brother for advice.

The straw that breaks the camels back is working himself into a panic that Wei Ying might be trying to get him to kill his own brother. It's just... he keeps having sect leader/loyal guard sex dreams. They've been getting more elaborate. There's leather for some reason. And then one time his spiritual energy is too depleted after a battle and Xiongzhang covered his cleansing session, and Lan Zhan had to lay in bed healing. Laying there for hours imagining Wei Ying call Xichen 'gege' and get all soft limbed the way he does in his tent after battle... asking to put his head in Xichen's lap. Wearing just his inner robes around Xichen. The intensity of the rage leads him to suspect a dark spell. (It's just vinegar and lust and the cain instinct, but again, Lan Zhan is going through it.)

Lan Xichen hearing the stripped down version of all this like... honey. Sweet child. What the actual fuck.

Yes, I'm sure he's different when he's with you but... Wanjii. Wanjii, please. Think with your brain, not — I am not the one bringing vulgarity into this, don't look at me like that. A-Zhan. No, brother, you can't 'fix' him. Wanjii why even ask me for advice if you're just going to keep doing the same thing.

Xichen really already had enough on his plate before learning that Wei Wuxian is playing psychsexual mind games with his little brother for nefarious reason.

To be fair to Xichen, he absolutely is doing that, even though it's only half on purpose. But those nefarious end goals are in fact sex and marriage, something he's CONFIDENT Lan Zhan would enjoy! Look, Wei Ying knows he could have sat on Lan Zhan's dick day one, even before establishing a real emotional connection, even before providing some evidence that he's not a literal demon seducing him into darkness. He feels he's showing an awful lot of unappreciated restraint in allowing Lan Zhan to come to him when he's ready to move past the whole 'raising undead armies' and 'upending the natural order' and 'my family will never approve' things.

(alright, it hurts more than he cares to admit to himself to see Lan Zhan look at him with fear, with disgust. He's sticken with worry and grief that without their experience in the Xuanwu Cave something fundamental will be missing between them. But it doesn't take too long before Lan Zhan says something so Lan Zhan that it assures him the care and love is still there. Its not the same but Lan Zhan still insists on following him around during the campaign, which means the chance to create New memories side by side and it's...good.)

Plus, younger Lan Zhan is so much easier to fluster and its INCREDIBLY fun to have the upper hand. The man has not finished developing his thick face — he misses his husband like a limb, like an organ, but the younger model squirms so good.

WAY too much of this is relayed to Jiang Cheng during their daily war strategy/ bro gossip sessions.

I actually think Jiang Cheng, in exchange for being the sole person who has to listen to Wei Ying’s (often graphic) pining over Lan Zhan, should get to out his brother.

He should get to out him a few times! For fun and for profit. It’s like wingman-ing, but bitchy, which is I think very in character. Wei Ying is either amused by the various reactions, or in the case of Lan Zhan, genuinely thankful. Sure ‘letting lan zhan come to me when he’s ready and more cool with the ghostly path’ is maybe the right thing to do, but it kinda sucks ass. Also Lan Zhan might actually have a lust induced Qi deviation if he doesn't fuck Wei Ying soon, though you would think that leaving a conspicuously large jade phallus laying around would be enough of a hint. Whatever, let's throw some black powder on that slow burn!

Jiang Cheng implies he might be open to marry Wei Wuxian out of the sect after the war. Sect leaders ‘causally’ asking what sort of girl his ridiculously OP and perfectly servile first disciple might be interested in. Jiang Cheng nonchalantly describing Lan Wanjii to a T (tall, strong in cultivation, musically talented, more inclined to listen than to talk...) while Lan Wanjii pretends not to have accidentally bitten through a spoon.

Someone trying to offer their daughter to the Jiang Clan ("I noticed your young master Wuxian couldn’t help but compliment her beauty—“ “He compliments everyone's beauty. Don’t take it seriously.”). Lan Zhan happens to be there, waiting for an unrelated meeting, and Jiang Cheng can't help but take the opportunity to fuck with him.

Jiang Cheng: Ridiculous petition, don’t you think. Lan Zhan: Mn. Jiang Cheng: As if I’d approve a marriage with everyone my shixiong flirts with. Lan Zhan: Mn. Jiang Cheng: (Pausing while he waits for Lan Zhan to take a sip of tea): He’s obviously a cut sleeve anyway. Lan Zhan: [choking]

After the immediate joy of watching the younger Jade lose his composure, there is later regret because Wei Wuxian is thanking him for giving Lan Zhan a push and. Ugh.

Jin Zixuan on the other hand accidentally gets convinced that Wei Wuxian is in gay love with Jiang Wanyin, while Jiang Wanyin sees Wei Wuxian as a brother, a dynamic Zixuan works very hard to avoid thinking about.

The two sect heirs are having a post battle drink (things weren’t bad between him and the peacock, at the end at least, and it might help things in the future (visiting future nieces and nephews) if they could at least be amicable acquaintances).

The evening's going well enough that Jin Zixuan works up the courage to awkwardly ask about rumors of a betrothal between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli. Wanyin surprises Zixuan by laughing, instead of getting incandescently angry. Sure, they’ve been drinking, but he didn’t even yell! At all! Jiang Wanyin, still laughing, leans it and confideds that Wei Wuxian has been in love with the same man for years.

Zixuan, shocked: "Wait a man? He’s —" Wanyin, taking another drink: "No sleeves." Zixuan, slightly confused why he’s even being told what's obviously a politically valuable secret: “Who—” Wanyin, forgetting that Wei Ying’s mooning over Lan Zhan is not actually that public, and Lan Zhan’s staring at Wei Ying just looks like glaring unless you’ve been unfortunately coached on reading his microexpressions. Also forgetting that people do not generally understand exactly what’s going on between the Jiang Sect’s heir and first disciple, except that it’s weird and intense: “Take a FUCKING guess” Zixuan: “Holy shit — you mean — oh man, that’s —“ Wanyin: “Yeah. You’re not the one who has to live with him.” Zixuan: “Couldn’t you — I mean does he have to be here — couldn’t he operate on different battlefields— Wanyin, suddenly enraged: the FUCK does that mean?? Zixuan: What? What did I — Wanyin: you got a PROBLEM with my cutsleeve brother?!? Zixuan: I thought — I thought you — did you say brother — Wanyin: FUCK YOU! Zixuan: I don’t — Wanyin: You think being a demonic rabbit stops him from being my brother?? Zixuan: I didn’t say — Wanyin: This is why your siblings are going to hate you! Zixuan: I — my — what do you mean siblings?? Wanyin: You don’t just — I’m not gonna — you don’t just abandon family! You don’t — you don’t send them away! You don't let them leave and face danger on their own! You don’t abandon them! It doesn’t matter if they’re a cutsleeve pervert or too into murdering people to solve problems! Got it? Zixuan: Alright, fine, sorry — Wanyin: GOT IT?!? Zixuan: Alright! Alright, I got it! Wanyin, sitting back down, muttering: Maybe if you were a better brother your half siblings won’t fuck everything up. Zixuan: what? Wanyin: Let’s get this straight — I get to make fun of Wei Wuxian. But until you marry our sister you don’t get to say shit. Zixuan: I — marry — no one said I — there’s no — Wanyin: GOT IT??T? Zixuan: Okay! Okay, I got it!

Jin Zixuan is extremely relieved to spend the rest of the night drinking in silence.

Close to the end of the war someone messes with their privacy talismans while snooping. So their daily checkin gets overheard and a bunch of people hear them bicker like children (threatening to pee in each other’s socks comes up) and laugh about someone's stupid hat, and trade jokes over a meal, which ruins their Untouchably Intense And Threatening Aura somewhat but honestly the aura was a bit much. Like, we’re allies, aren’t we?

Honestly a relief for a lot of people to find out they’re just teen brothers who are good at killing and putting on a very convincing facade (Wei Wuxian literally calls it his ‘scary face’). ALSO Jiang Cheng makes fun of Wei Ying for his super embarrassing crush, “So he actually greeted you in public! When should I expect a marriage offer?!’” which Wei Ying responds to by describing how lonely his butthole is and the various objects he’s been using to makes himself feel less forlorn, which Jiang Cheng responds to with wretching and throwing things.

So that’s some fun gossip.

(Xichen in particular is relieved that his brother hasn't wildly misjudged Wei Ying's true character, and that the Lan Sect probably isn't going to get subsumed by the Jiang)

The wider cultivation world eventually (post war) gets the explanation that Wei Wuxian can remember his past lives and that’s why he’s Like That.

Life One heavily implied to be evil warlord inventor with some connection to the burial mounds, possibly creating them, who was so reviled as to be wiped from the history texts, fracturing his soul to where Meng Po’s soup leaks out. So that explains a lot. Makes way more sense than someone inventing a whole new cultivation path at seventeen, haha.

Life Two heavily implied to be happy wife of a respected cultivator, which...huh.

(past life husband eventually revealed to be Lan Wanjii’s past reincarnation, who did not remember this but is unfortunately still in love. The public finds the story unbelievably romantic. His family is not thrilled. The cultivation world has mixed).

Timeline on all this unconfirmed. Amount of time in-between reincarnations indeterminate, he doesn’t remember. Will tell anyone who asks too many details about being an excellent wife — apparently he gave his husband a beautiful son but seriously don’t ask because he WILL cry and it’s very disturbing. Vaguely implies that he could be any number of people's grandmother.

Smaller number of people know that Jiang Wanyin also remembers his past lives to some extent, but he won’t talk about it. Wei Wuxian very solemnly whispering to fascinated cultivators that when he went insane in his first life Jiang Wanyin lead an army to stop him and that’s why he trusts him so much to keep under control as his leader now. I repeat: Jiang Wanyin will NOT be taking questions.

My MDZS AU Masterlist

[hextechmaturgy]

lucanis' romance is disappointing because like many other aspects of this game you can practically smell all the wasted potential

spoilers below!

we know from the stories that came before veilguard that cousins lucanis and illario grow up knowing caterina has a favorite grandson she intends to make first talon one day. it's implied and sometimes outwardly said that lucanis is indeed a better assassin than illario, and being a better assassin in a FAMILY OF ASSASSINS is a big deal. at the same time, we find out that illario is the more personable between the two. lucanis says he can charm just about anyone and zara calls him 'amatus' right before illario fucking kills her, so we know that's true. we find out through banter that lucanis had a crush on viago and failed miserably to show him because his only idea was to get him a knife, and, should you have an active romance with him, he will also admit to your companions that you are his first relationship

lucanis spends his entire romance backing away from you. he barely reacts to your flirting, he ducks away from a first kiss to 'clear his head', he won't shut up about coffee, and the moment you commit to him is just a quick scene where he SAYS he made you dessert, meanwhile, pretty much every other character is kissing you and declaring how much they care for you, emmerich's first kiss happens relatively early into the second act and it's such a sweet scene.

all this tells me is the writers were going for 'fail boy's first romance', packed with the slow burn of someone who has no idea how to show you how much he cares for you. it's sweet! i romance alistair every time for pretty much the same reasons. there's something very disarming about a strong, capable man who turns to mush around you because you're just that precious to him, because he's afraid you'll cringe and run away at his inexperience/awkwardness/eagerness.

but while i think that idea was perfectly executed with alistair, i think what we got for lucanis is extremely weak, to a point where i started wondering if my game was bugged and i had missed a romance flag somehow, or soft locked myself into someone else's romance. that's when it becomes a problem for me. when i flirt with him and he DOESN'T REPLY, it's not even him looking awkward, it's him not looking interested. he certainly sounds cute and awkward around neve, why does he show her that side and not rook? it felt like they were meant to be together, especially with the whole 'pick between treviso and minrathous' storyline, but i checked out neve's romance and that one is really good, one of my favorites in fact, SO WHAT GIVES? it's not that lucanis is reserved as a character, it's more like the game wasn't programmed with his reserved nature in mind. so he shows you he's committed by making you desert... couldn't we have had a scene where we watch him baking, instead of hearing him say he did it? we run into him preparing a surprise and he's out of sorts, or he asks us to go on another grocery run and you piece together what he's planning from peeping the ingredients. SHOW DON'T TELL IS THE MOST BASIC OF WRITING ADVICE, SO PLEASE ???? they did it with kaiden in ME3, he cooks for you and burns the garlic because you're just so distracting. there were multiple opportunities for cute and unsure, neve's romance is surprisingly tender and this one could've been too.

as it is right now, lucanis' romantic interactions feel like game bugs, his pet demon seems to be far more entertaining than him/is generally mega underutilized (can you imagine a scene of spite getting done with lucanis' bullshit and sleep walking some more to tell you he's smitten), and if you are planning to have lucanis as your romance, you should go into it knowing that after your first good, dare i say EXCELLENT first romantic chat at that coffee shop ("like a kiss goodbye" charmed me there and then) you'll be waiting until literally the end of the game for any sort of pay off. there's a good romance to explore here, the complete opposite of zevran as far as crow romances go, but sadly these fun dynamics will only get decently explored in fanfiction i fear

[madridfangirl]

Drunken first goal celebrations

(Jude Bellingham one-shot)

Summary: Jude scores his first goal of the season, celebrates with his team and then with his girlfriend. Fluff & some smut at the end.

As the ball moved towards the net, past the goalie, the world stood still for Jude in those split seconds. 

The deafening noise of the Bernabeu faded in the background, as did the sounds of his team-mates calling out his name.

All he fixated on was the sight of that ball at the back of the net. Something that was a common occurrence for him last season yet was so hard to come by this year. 

It felt like his first goal all over again.

The overwhelming feeling was relief. The curse seemed to be broken. 

And then his teammates jumped on him and got him out of his reverie. 

Rest of the match was a dream. Madrid had won convincingly after a long long time. Hope was coming back to the fans and in the dressing room. All was not lost in the season, not yet.

Vini knew what that goal meant to Jude, as did the rest of the team. Special cuddles were awarded to Jude in the dressing room to celebrate his moment. Even though it was Vini’s hattrick, the team very much wanted it to be Jude’s moment. They knew how crucial it was for his confidence.

A special after party was arranged at Vini’s house. Filled with tequila and euphoria. Up next was international break so they had the luxury to let loose tonight. And let loose they did. The season had barely given them moments to celebrate and tonight felt like an inflection point of sorts. Jude wanted to soak in this moment.

In all honesty, Jude wanted to be somewhere else right now. With her. In her arms, as she spoilt him rotten. But Ananya had insisted he celebrated with the team first. That she would be waiting for him once he’s done. That this team bonding was important. 

And, as always, she was right. His wise girlfriend always knew the right thing to do.

An hour into the party (or maybe 2 hours, he couldn’t tell anymore), Jude decided he was done being away from her. He called his trusted chauffeur to take him to his happy place. Agnes knew exactly where that was, and helped him walk up the stairs so he doesn’t cause much ruckus and draws attention to himself. The man knew how that would get his boss in trouble with his girlfriend. Jude kept patting the cheeks of the poor man, while Agnes rang the doorbell and waited to hand him over safely (& quickly).

Roma answered the door, and Jude pulled her into a bear hug, almost toppling her backwards. Agnes managed to shut the door behind them and bolted away quickly. 

‘Romaaaaaa - what a funny name.’

‘Hello to you too, Jude.’

‘Sounds like Rome but also like mommmaaa???’ 

Roma struggled to break out of his hold as Jude swayed her from side to side.

‘If you hadn’t been instrumental in my team’s win tonight, I would have punched you for that.’

‘Punched me? With those baby hands? Haha so funny.’

‘ANANYA - come get your boy toy before I smack his pretty face.’

‘Aww you think I’m pretty?’

‘I think you need to let go of me RIGHT NOW. You’re stinking for crying out loud.’

Jude just tightened the hug. Roma was preparing to kick him when Ananya heard the commotion outside and stepped out of her room. In her night robe.

Jude’s grip loosened, and Roma managed to pull away from him, muttering under her breath as to how she needed a shower to get the stink off.

He pouted at the accusation, and walked into his girlfriend’s waiting arms.

‘Am I really stinking?’

He was. She wondered if he had remembered to take a shower at all amidst all the post-match madness.

‘Smells like you.’

His face split into a wide grin.

‘And you like it, yeah?’

‘I like everything about you.’

One could practically count all his 32 teeth with the way he was grinning.

‘You’re so cute. My doll is so cute.’

He sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek lovingly, as he buried his face in her chest. Clinging to her. Smelling her hair. Feeling the warmth of her soft body. The giddiness hitting him in loads. 

‘Had fun at the party?’

He nodded enthusiastically. It had been forever since she had seen that kind of joy in his eyes. She kissed his cheek again but he turned around to catch her lips with his, giggling into the kiss. The sound making her heart leap with happiness.

‘I’m so proud of you baby.’

‘Been a while since I made you proud, yeah?’

The note of melancholy in his otherwise cheerful demeanour didn’t go unnoticed. 

‘That’s not true. Your game is more than just scoring goals. You know that, Jude.’

 He nodded again, just not as enthusiastically this time.

‘Heyy look at me. You make me proud every time you walk on to that field and give your all. Your drive and passion is what defines you, not your goals.’

‘Not everyone thinks that way. You’ve seen the memes.’

‘Yeah, well, now you’ve snatched even that joy from them. You’ve shut them up, like I knew you would. It was only a matter of time. I told you.’

‘How were you so sure?’

‘Coz you’re you. And you’re awesome.’

She held his face with both hands and connected their lips again for a comforting kiss. 

‘Naaa you’re just sweet on me.’

‘That too. But you’re still awesome.’

The way he looked at her just then, with that puppy face and big doe eyes, made her heart flutter.

‘Say what you’re thinking. Don’t hold back.’

‘How do you know I…’

She cocked her head to the side, and he knew it was a stupid question. The girl knew him inside out.

‘I was starting to think if they were right. If I was actually a…..a…..’

‘One season wonder?’

She finished his sentence for him. When he kept looking away, she held his face and brought him back to face her.

‘It’s natural to have vulnerabilities and bad thoughts. But they go away much faster if you address them, and not sit on them.’

‘Were you a psychic in another life?’

‘Naaa I just pay attention when it comes to you.’

This time Jude leaned forward and she met him halfway for the kiss, tasting tequila on his tongue as he slipped it in her mouth.

‘Ummm how much did you drink?’

‘Not enough. Drink with me?’

Without waiting for a response, he pulled out a half-filled bottle of tequila from his backpack, took a big sip, grabbed her face and poured it from his mouth into hers.

The deep sudden intimacy of his action sent shivers down her back. She could tell his mood was shifting and they needed to move away from the living room to the privacy of her room. 

Once inside, Jude shut the door with his foot and straightway moved to untie the knot of her robe, but she grabbed his hand mid-way.

He blinked at her in confusion, still wobbly on his feet, while she just batted her eyes at him. 

Ananya looked him up and down - he was a proper meal right now in that brown leather jacket. Eyes deeper & softer in this drunken state, face extra puppy yet extra sexy, lips extra pouty as he tried to fathom her moves.

‘Wanna guess what I’m wearing underneath?’

That got his attention. Loud & clear.

His eyes roamed her form, searching for clues. The robe was hugging her curves tightly so he could tell there weren’t many layers or thick layers underneath. But he could’t make out her tits clearly so there had to be something underneath. He closed his eyes briefly, to visualise her body, and immediately knew the answer.

‘Lingerie.’

Ananya smiled appreciatively, leaning against her desk while crossing her legs, bringing his attention to her half-bare thighs.

‘Correct. Wanted to reward my baby. But but, which one?’

She cocked her head to the side again, letting her hair drop over her shoulder, testing all of Jude’s restraint. 

How was he supposed to guess which one? He had bought many for her, and she had many of her own too.

‘Want a hint?’

‘Yes please.’

That came out far too desperately than what he originally intended.

Ananya lifted her robe a little from one leg, letting him have a peak of the light pink embellished fabric.

And Jude’s mouth hung open, drool coming out of it. He knew exactly which one it was - he had sent a pic to her once, wanting to buy it for her but she had said it was too slutty and barely covered any bits of her.

‘I…this the one I picked? During Euros?’

She smiled again and walked over to him, pressing his lips with her index finger. Jude had to remind himself to breathe.

‘Was saving it for a special occasion.’

‘Mmm-hmmmm.’

‘Are you up for it though?’

‘Huh?’

Jude couldn’t understand what had gotten into her or what language she was speaking tonight. It was burning him to the core though.

‘You know, with all the drinking, you think you can…’

That’s when it hit him. Hard. 

Playtime was over. It was time to show her who the boss was.

Jude took off his jacket and threw it to the side, her eyes following the fabric with longing.

He walked over to her, grabbed her robe, pulled it open & yanked it off of her.

The sight of her in that barely there lingerie nearly made him cum in his pants.

He shoved two fingers in her mouth, driving them all the way in, making her choke on them. Then, he traced her bare skin with the tip of his wet fingers, leaving a trail of fire behind.

Starting to feel weak in the knees, she held his biceps for support. But Jude flipped her around, one arm around her boobs and the other sneaking between her legs. While his mouth made merry on her neck & shoulders.

‘Ju-de.’

Ananya threw her head back in pleasure, as he attacked multiple sensitive spots together.

Jude flipped her around again, moving his mouth to her cleavage, making her mewl.

He knew what she liked. For all her strong independent woman stuff, in bed she liked to be the girl. Wanting him to dominate, to manhandle her. To tell her what to do. And he loved doing that.

‘Good thing tomorrow’s a Sunday, yeah? Doll’s gonna need the rest.’

With that final warning, Jude threw her over his shoulder and on to the bed. He grabbed her leg, pulled her forward, flipped her on her hands and knees and stood behind her, admiring the view.

Given his pressing need, he didn’t even bother to fully take off his clothes. But took great pleasure in doing away with her skimpy lingerie. Lining himself up quickly, he thrusted inside without much preparation, trusting her to be wet & hot for him. And she was. 

Lust & alcohol messed with his head, as did her sultry moans. He bent over her, one hand on her hips keeping them in place and the other spread across her belly possessively.

‘One day….I’m gonna put babies in here.’

She gasped loudly, going numb at his words, which only made him thrust harder till she screamed for him again.

‘You’ll take everything I give you, all of me. Like a good girl, yeah?’

The bed creaked violently under his rapid strokes.

‘SAY IT.’

‘Y-yes.’

He leaned down to bite her shoulder, as his hand mercilessly marauded her boobs & nipples, sliding back to her belly.

‘Even when this is big, I’d still have you like this. Any way I want. Till the very end.’

‘Jude please…’

‘Please what?’

‘I…I can’t…’

‘Yes you can. And you will.’

He had discovered another layer to his passion, which led to another layer of their pleasure. Her sweaty body soon went limp in his arms, and he followed shortly after.

As she rested on her back, sore & spent, Jude laid his head on her belly, kissing it lovingly, and his words rang in her mind. He looked up, locking eyes with her tired ones, a promise deep within them, and her hands fisted in the sheet, knowing he’ll do anything to follow through & to get what he wanted.

.............................................................................

A blurb, as promised :)

As always, your thoughts / comments are most welcome!

Characters from Star Crossed Lovers.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Notes from my Deathly Hallows reread: Slughorn returns with the Slytherins

So, most of you probably saw or heard of that interview JKR gave back in the day about how Slughorn came back to the battle of Hogwarts with the Slytherin students:

JN: And how much is it that being sorted into Slytherin is, you know, sorted into good guys and bad guys here? JKR: Well, they’re not all bad, that would- I know I’ve said this before, (JN: Yeah, I remember.) and I think I said it to Emerson, they are not all bad, and, well, far from it. As we know, at the end, they may have (laughs) a slightly more highly developed sense of self-preservation then other people because… SU: Yeah, right. JN: Yeah. JKR: A part of the final battle that made me smile was Slughorn galloping back with Slytherins, (SU: Yes!) (JN laughs) but they’d gone off to get reinforcements first, you know what I’m saying? But yes, they came back, they came back to fight, so I mean- but I’m sure that many people would say “Well, that’s common sense, isn’t it? Isn’t that smart, to get out, get more people and come back with them?” JN: Yeah.

(From this interview)

And like most fans, I always kinda assumed it was her retconning things in the books again, because I just didn't remember it happening and she added a lot of little tidbits (some more contradictory than others) in the years after the books, so I don't tend to take them too seriously. But I was reading Deathly Hallows last night and she might've actually written that in:

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and Harry saw Charlie Weasley overtaking Horace Slughorn, who was still wearing his emerald pajamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Hogwarts student who had remained to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Hogsmeade. The centaurs Ban, Ronan, and Magorian burst into the hall with a great clatter of hooves, as behind Harry the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges. The house-elves of Hogwarts swarmed into the entrance hall

(DH, 734) 619

Harry later mentions a horde of wizards, and we know Harry doesn't actually recognize all the students in his year, let alone all the students in Slytherin he doesn't interact with regularly. So, I wonder if she really meant by "they seemed to have returned" other Slytherins when she wrote it initially and how much of a retcon that interview really is.

Considering it was the middle of the night, the Slytherins likely were wearing pajamas, like Slughon, and maybe cloaks over them and not school robes, so it's possible Harry would have no way of knowing who's a student if he doesn't know them personally.

The only real issue I have with the canonicity of it is this statement from Voldemort:

"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?" "No—never," whispered Malfoy.

(DH, 641)

But perhaps he's talking in hyperbole (or just being a shit to Lucius, as he does), since we know Crabbe and Goyle hadn't come back to join him either and he doesn't mention them.

Additionally, when the Golden Trio goes up to the headmaster's office Phineas Black says this:

and Phineas Nigellus called, in his high, reedy voice, “And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!”

(DH, 747)

It doesn't sound like he's just talking about himself, Snape, and Slughorn, it sounds like he's talking about actual combatants, so...

JKR's statement about Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts on Harry's side (besides Slughorn) is surprisingly, probably, canon.

The interview I mentioned was only 7 months after the book came out, so I wonder if she wrote a different version of that paragraph before editing and was thinking about that... It seems the intention might've been there even if she didn't write it all that clearly...

[earthfire-75]

Demons have needs too

Genre: Dragon Age Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook, Spite x Rook , Spite!Lucanis, female!Rook, Named Rook, otherwise, non descript

Warnings: smut, just smut PWP , knife play?, no blood, demon possession, dub-con

Notes: purple italics are Spite's thoughts/speaking

Wherein we wonder if Spite isn't actually a Desire demon...

Luna sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Heading into the kitchen, she found Lucanus’ coffee maker next to the stove. She smiled to herself, making herself a cup and a fried egg sandwich for breakfast, then she would head to the training room, where she would also likely find Lucanis. She leaned against the doorway as she watched him, jumping a little when he spoke without looking at her.

“You are improving, my friend. I almost did not hear you.”

Friend? Not friend. Want!

She hid the sadness she felt at his use of friend. She desires so much more than his friendship, had since the last time they had seen each other. But she had only been a teenager then. Now, seeing him again, she knows what she feels isn't infatuation. There is a sexual tension that comes with their sparring, however, and she needs to be careful. She's certain Lucanis Dellamorte is neither ready for any sort of romance yet, nor interested in her that way to begin with.

“Almost only counts in playing horseshoes,” she teased.

“And hand grenades. Or so I ‘ve heard.”

Lucanis turned around, finally facing the girl…no, woman…entertaining the training room. He remembers the teenager he last met years ago. She was beautiful then, but now? Now she made his heart race and his cock twitch, for Makers sake. Now he both looked forward to and dreaded their sparring. The sexual tension it brought…he wanted to …do things to her...

Fuck her, the demon supplied in a whisper. Make her ours! Spite breathed in deep. Smells like…lavender dipped in honey.

Lucanis, for his part, does his best to ignore the demon, giving Luna a smile that's meant to be reassuring as he withdraws his daggers from their sheaths. “Ready for our sparring session, my Moon?” It's a slip, one he deliberately does not acknowledge, in hopes that she missed it. But of course she does not. Still, Luna says nothing, refusing to believe he meant it in the way her heart wishes he did.

* *

He had her pinned against the wall, hands above her head, his dagger pressed firmly against the hollow of her throat. His eyes were ablaze with something she dare not name and something more sinister as he started her down.

Fuck her! The demon was worked up now, more difficult to ignore.

Pretty. Pretty tits, pretty pussy.

Never kissed, never touched

Wants, needs, aches. Aches for us!

The demon tightens their grip on Luna’s wrists. Their eyes drop to her breasts, sliding the blade from her throat down to the first button of her shirt.

We want, we need.

Throb, pulse, ache. Ache for her!

“Lucanis?”

A deep growl - Take, claim, taste, fuck!

Ours! All ours! Fuck her or we will!

At the first sign of hesitation, Spite growls in frustration, shoving Lucanis' consciousness to the side, but not down. The demon wanted its host to remember this.

“We want to see those pretty tits.” The voice that came out of Lucanis was not entirely his own and Luna swallowed around something stuck in her throat as the hand holding his dagger flicked, sending the first button flying. The second and third aren't far behind as Luna's breasts rise and fall heavily.

“Pretty Moon. We won’t hurt you. Well, maybe a little, but we think you'll like.,” the demon spoke as it continued to flick away at the remaining buttons. “But we won't deny ourselves anymore. We want you wrapped around our cock. Not our fist.”

The blade slides back up, between her breasts, cuts through the lacings of her bra, then uses it to move the shirt away from her breasts, exposing them completely. They circle her left breast with the dagger, spiraling closer and closer to Luna's tightening nipple.

“Such lovely, perfect tits.” Spite takes her nipple between its teeth, rolling it until pleasure borders pain.

“We want to tell you, but Lucanis is a coward. Big scary assassin can't tell the pretty how much we want to feel her tits, suck her nipples and ram our cock into her dripping cunt over and over until she's screaming our name, drunk on the absolute fucking we’ll l give her.”

The demon takes the blade to her right breast, offering up the same treatment as its twin. “But no, he leaves that for me to do. So We'll tell you every dirty thing we want to do to you.”

Luna hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop herself from squirming, squeezing her thighs together, arching her breasts forward and moaning as her nipples hardened and her pussy pulsed with desire. The demon breathed in deep, taking in her scent and picking up on her sweet arousal. It dropped their eyes to her still covered bottom half. With the dagger still in hand, the demon cut the ties holding Luna's pants up and watched them fall to her ankles before swiftly and carefully cutting off her panties at the hips.

It slides the blade up her thigh from knee to apex, watching goosebumps form all over her skin, making her nipples tighten even more and a gush of desire floods her. The demon gathers some on the blade carefully, as if gathering something precious. “ We want to taste you,” it whispers before licking her gathered juices from the blade, slow and sensual.

“To fuck you with our tongue and fingers. To fill your dripping, aching cunt in every way you’ll let him…Let us.”

The demon drops the dagger, lifting Lucanis' hand to cup her breast, lowering his head and swirling his tongue around her npple, nipping at the sensitive bud just to hear her cry out, to make another gush of arousal slide down the insides of her thighs.

“We've wanted you like this the longest. Every time we've sparred together, we’ve imagined fucking you into the wall after. Your tits bouncing in our face, your aching cunt squeezing tight around our equally aching cock.” It finally pressed their cock into her thigh as he kicked her legs apart, making her fuck their leg as she feels just how hard they are.

“We’ve imagined bending you over the kitchen table, our hand twisted in your hair, fucking you senseless from behind, not caring who might walk in and see it. Imagined tying you to your bed, legs spread as far apart as possible, arms above your head as you are now, helpless, dripping, begging as blade and tongue trace the shape of your perfect body, especially your tits. Maker, we really love your tits…then we bury our fingers deep into your cunt until you scream out your first and second orgasms. And then, of you’re a really good girl, we fuck your cunt with our cock.” It pressed said cock harder into her thigh to punctuate the point.

It shifted their hips just enough to be right next to her apex and began dry humping. The hand cupping her breast now pinching and pulling at her nipple. It swirled their tongue around the opposite nipple before closing their lips around the hard bud and sucking. The action made Luna moan and her hips jerk. “Please,” she begged, “Lucanis, please…”

“Shhhh, little Moon. Lucanis is…present enough. Point of no return, Pretty. Let us take care of you, let us fuck you, little Moon. Let us…” Frustratingly, the demon found it's host had more influence on them than they thought. They couldn't just fuck her like they wanted. Not without permission.

“Yes!” She couldn't take anymore teasing. Tears stung her eyes thinking her weakness now damned them both, but her hips begged the demon to take her, to fuck her in the ways it described. In a moment she felt the heaviness of his cock before it was teasing at her entrance and sliding all too easily into her, stretching her, filling her.

It did not ease the aching, but heightened it, her cries of pleasure/pain growing louder with each thrust. The demon growls, releasing her wrists to grip her hips in both hands, practically bouncing her on their cock, manipulating how she squeezes around it. She has to grip their shoulders to hold herself up.

“Please…” Luna angles herself to lean back a bit. “I need…” She feels them reach between her legs, thumb finding her clit and rubbing hard, rough circles into it and her pitch becomes higher as she now fucks herself on their cock.

They watch, in awe of her even as they chase their own orgasm. Indeed her breasts bounce, her face twisted in pleasure, sacred and profane all at once. A final thrust of their hips and she screamed out their name as predicted. But their own release comes with a whimper as they bury their head into the crook of her neck.

“You could bring us to our knees, little Moon. You could bring a demon to its knees…”

[autisticjoshrusso]

ok ok ok. a post about josh, buck, and maddie at dispatch as promised. (and because i dont feel like writing a whole separate post or repeating myself etc, if im pointing something out as evidence for my autistic josh headcanon, it'll be in parenthesis like this) also this is long because im going basically line by line in some places so just be prepared for that and such.

the first thing i wanna say before anything else is that like... as far as how this conversation fits into the larger narrative, i was fairly disappointed, due to the way that including this scene like this is kinda implying that the racism was fine because of being closeted etc. HOWEVER. luckily for my sanity it is pretty clear that from a character perspective, that's not at all what's being said by josh himself here, and we can be pretty certain that he is not aware of tommy's past behaviors. in fact he has almost no facts or context about the situation, which i'll get into later.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, im gonna move onto character analysis and will not be touching on what i think the narrative might have meant etc. any further. like this is going to be purely talking about character dynamics and dissecting the dialogue etc.

we start out right away by skipping all the exposition right into a hard cut of maddie reacting to the news that tommy and abby were engaged. LOVE this set up we get right into the important part quickly and we as the audience only have to hear information that is new to us, not the information being repeated back to the character for whom the information is new.

and oh maddie. i love you so bad. she's like DAMN thats crazy, and then makes the obvious turning people gay joke. her energy here is sooo like it didn't make sense until looking at it in retrospect, but she's shocked and invested yet not taking it very seriously as a concern for buck, because well, she's having a baby and this is objectively not that serious comparatively <3 but i do love that she sees buck's reaction and quickly reins it in and is like woah im kidding im not actually being homophobic holy smokes. which. it kinda still is a little. but i think she's allowed <3

and then... josh enters the scene. he apparently only walked in as buck was saying "-kissed a boy" so of course he had to be like huh? gay shit? something gay? boys?? what's going on over here? and i love that for him. and i love that maddie immediately is like oh hi bestie i catch u up to speed on the tea <3 the maddiejosh bestieism is so back we never lose <3 and that fact that she's like. feeding in the facts in a way to dramatically amp up the tale i love it. she really said man the things my baby brother gets himself caught up in are wild.... anyway <3 true sibling behavior is finding the perfect balance between being supportive and being so so annoying <3

and she is supportive still. like when it becomes clear that there's something deeper going on here she does try to help him work through it. and its so interesting to me the way she is sort of seriously contemplating his words and is shocked when josh not only speaks up but is being very serious and equally focused on the problem at hand. it's like... she's trying so hard to figure out how to help her brother with something she doesn't fully understand that having someone else speak up to help them kind of shocks her and boy does that say something about their lives and the buckley sibling dynamic!

side note, the way josh is jokingly like "she didn't bring her personal life to work, unlike SOME people" and maddie's little look of mock offense?? they're so cute i cant handle it.

i also really love how the shots are framed during this conversation. at first, even when she's not talking and is just listening to josh talk, maddie is still in frame, we're still getting her reaction, she's an active participant in what's going on. and then there is the one shot where she's talking and josh is out of frame, hidden by buck, because whatever reaction he might be having isn't important, it's a buckley sibling moment. (he's not an active participant at that point; he's entirely observing and reacting and gathering information, not dictating the direction of the conversation whatsoever.)

it's only when josh gets very serious and it starts to turn into a heart to heart moment just between him and buck that maddie is allowed to leave the frame. it still goes back to her in very brief cuts when her reaction is relevant, but she steps back out of focus and let's josh handle the conversation. and i love that so much. thank GOD someone else is helping buck sort out his problems that isn't his parentified sister or just generally someone more marginalized than him. it was kind of getting irritating to watch, as much as i love buck so much. like dude... the emotional labor. watch it.

and man. this conversation guys. everything about it makes me an insane crazy person. ive already mentioned this in the tags of some other posts but like... its so fascinating because on the surface it is such a cohesive conversation, but when you really break it down and analyze both of their expressions and body language alongside what they're saying, you can start to see the cracks in it. what one of them is saying is not what the other one is hearing, in both directions. they are having two different conversations and i think it's critical to analyze both of those conversations and how they are interacting with each other. what josh says, what josh hears, what buck says, and what buck hears are four entirely separate things happening alongside each other.

the first part is josh trying to get a sense for how serious this relationship is to buck. when buck falters at the question of "do you love him?", he elaborates with follow-up questions that, to josh, define "love" or close enough to it. answering "yes" to those questions is close enough to a "yes" to the question of "do you love him?".

(which. ok. the particular choice of questions makes me insane because they do essentially boil down to "do you prefer this person to solitude and grant them an equal or greater importance to yourself?" which is sooo... it's said from the point of view of someone who greatly values their solitude and would not easily grant someone that level of importance.)

unfortunately, well, buck is NOT someone who greatly values his solitude, and puts other people before himself quite easily. buck would answer "yes" to those questions for basically anyone. josh does not know or understand this about buck and takes buck's answers at face value, while buck is taking this as sort of... it's hard to explain, and i think others have done a better job of capturing buck's perspective already tbh. he's convincing himself that he loves tommy here because josh is unknowingly handing him that information and expectation, and buck loves to mold himself to fit an expectation etc.

and then comes the second part, which... i think this is where it is most critical to realize that josh has none of the context about tommy, abby, and buck and those respective relationships. by his own admission, he didn't really know much about abby or about her breakup with tommy beyond the fact that it was upsetting. he didn't hear the way tommy talked about abby to buck at dinner, and he definitely didn't get to see any of the real fallout and damage to her psyche that tommy leaving her caused.

but buck did! im not inclined to rewatch s1 to get any exact quotes or anything but from what i remember, she either outright said or implied that she was so heartbroken because tommy left her because of her mother's illness. buck is understandably very upset because he understands exactly what she went through and how, unless abby was lying to not out him, he didn't exactly come clean with the breakup, and left her feeling like it was her fault, like there was something wrong with her or she was being weighed down by caring for her mother. he calls tommy's behavior exactly what it is: dishonest and cruel.

but josh doesn't know this. all he is hearing is a young, freshly out bisexual calling a gay man "dishonest and cruel" for having been engaged to a woman for his own protection. and he responds exactly how you'd expect! he reminds him of queer history and the fact that he doesn't really have a right to judge the people who grew up and had to survive in a world that was much less safe to come out in.

(and i said in my other post that's still doing numbers that "pre-Glee/post-Glee" is an actual queer discourse talking point and makes sense that it'd be used here, as awkward and cheesy as it seems, but it's also a win for my television/film/popular media/hollywood culture/etc. as a special interest headcanon. <3 we love to see it)

and it kills me because of course buck is just going to take this at face value and decide he needs to stop feeling the discomfort he's feeling, leading to the subsequent doubling down and over committing that is typical of his unhealthy relationship patterns.

(and then at the end of the speech josh has to literally announce that he's leaving DSJFHJKDSKJ. because walking away/ending conversations is so awkward and difficult and the easiest way to mitigate that is to lean into the Dramatic Homosexual Stereotype mask or whatever <3 i've long been of the opinion that josh is someone who uses the behaviors associated with queer men and queer masculinity as the blueprint for his neurotypical mask, which is why he often comes across as being just a little bit off from the Funny and Bitchy Gay vibes that it seems like he's going for. and boy did his exit from this scene just reinforce that headcanon so hard!)

they wrap the scene with a little bit more levity too which is kind of nice to like. move on from that. because it got kind of heavy there for a second.

overall i do like what this scene accomplished, but like i said at the start, i think it has some really unfortunate implications that weigh it down for me. still, always nice to get more josh content, especially when it's pretty consistent with his character as established AND not at all related to doing his job. we got to see him and maddie being goofy and maddie being allowed to let someone else deal with buck's problems for a second. and the whole thing was very well shot! excellent camera work going on throughout.

i don't actually know how to end this post so yknow. im gonna make a dramatic exit now or whatever <3

[glimblshanks]

I rewatched the season two final recently and Mariner literally like,,, slides up to Ransom while telling the bridge crew about Freeman's transfer and steals his drink and sips from it and he just takes it back like it doesn't even bother him, he doesn't seem grossed out by it at all. Is this just normal for these two? Are they really truly 'share drinks without asking' levels of comfortable with each other? It's making me insane

[twnj]

“Yes.” Her breath hitched in her throat before she could put on a deeper voice, and she whimpered out, “Let me…”

“Let you what?”

“Take charge.”

“Of me?”

She couldn’t make more than a weak affirmative sound, and he ceased the movement of his hand. He dropped her thigh, letting it slide down his leg, and used his now-free hand to peel hers from where they grabbed at him. Shikamaru groaned as he clung to her and bound both her wrists together in one palm, pinning them above her head.

His breath was hot on her cheek as he leaned into her ear.[...]

[...]“Which?” His finger retracted, and she moved her hips needily. “Which did you consider, Temari?” Shikamaru’s voice was gentle. Enticing. “Answer and I’ll let go. You can do whatever you want.” He adjusted his grip, but not enough for her to slip free, and pulled back to look at her. His finger stirred gently until her thighs quivered again. “Just remember, when you do, that I’m not weak. If I wanted to, I could do this instead of letting you. Every time.”

Grandmaster on ao3 by @notquitejiraiya

[acourtofquestions]

Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.

Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.

But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.

So hearth to hearth, it went.

To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.

Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"

Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.

Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.

Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.

Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.

Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.

A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.

Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.

Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.

"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"

Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.

[dbphantom]

I figured it out

You haven't done shit

I figured it out

[arolesbianism]

hello gamers minor life update I have been doing Real bad lately so I will likely continue to be very inactive, but hey on the bright side I have been fleshing out some eternal gales lore I reworked a while back and I can happily say that Dodie no longer completely contradicts the very nature of reality in eternal gales and the fog tower™ officially has a real reason to exist again so hell yeah to that