#cannon doesn’t actually matter anyway

[automaticsoulharmony]

Hey so I’m not a “read comics to know cannon cause fannon fucking sucks!!” Girlie okay, I started as fannon and it is genuinely so fun and I love it.

(Edited to be nicer): Reading through comics though I find it fascinating to find what the fandom has shifted for better or worse. Recently I found the real story of peoples main defense of Robin existing:

“Bruce only brought on Dick as a sidekick cause he snuck out to go kill Zucco and he wanted him trained and taught” or any other version, is simply wrong. I’ve now read two versions and both of them he only started cause Batman told him to.

In Robin Annual #4 (1993), a little before Tims solo started, we get a flashback to when Dick was brought on as Robin.

In this version- he literally never mentions killing Zucco. And wasn’t even convinced they were murdered until Batman told him, then said it didn’t matter cause they’re still dead, and he just wants to leave:

When he later does sneak out of Wayne Manor to find out more about his parents killer- he says its cause Batman asked for his help:

And then after Bruce finds him, Batman says he still needs Dicks help, and only then (in this version) does Dick suggest becoming his sidekick)

Now you may be thinking- “that ones from later, an earlier version must be less damning” not quite.

Right before Tim comes onto the scene in general we get another version of the tale in Batman #437 in 1989

Dick does originally say in this version that he wants Zucco dead- and if Batman won’t he’ll do it himself. But then by the time Bruce actually talks to him about, he’s changed his mind and simply wants to do something to stop people like this. Then Bruce IMMEADIATLY OFFERS BECOMING HIS SIDEKICK

All in all, this is two different versions in which Dick does not immeadiatly sneak out on his own- and only thinks of becoming a vigilante after B asks him to help.

Anyway, can you tell I hate Bruce?

[resident-gay-bitch]

Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.

Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.

Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.

Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.

Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.

Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.

Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.

And certainly not by James.

He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.

He should have known better.

He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.

He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.

And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.

Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.

Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.

He knows better now.

It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.

It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.

They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.

Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.

Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.

Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.

Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.

Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.

“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”

Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.

“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.

He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.

“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.

“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.

“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.

“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”

“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.

Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.

“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.

Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.

It’s oddly silent.

It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.

But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.

Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.

The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.

Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.

Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.

“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.

Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“

“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”

Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”

Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”

“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.

Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.

They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.

Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.

There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.

They all hurt just the same.

“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”

“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”

Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”

“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”

“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.

“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”

“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”

“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”

Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”

“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”

“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”

Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.

Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.

Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.

But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.

Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.

“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”

Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.

“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.

“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”

“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”

Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”

Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.

He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.

Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.

Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”

“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”

Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”

“Thanks.”

“No problems, Black.”

Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.

It’s so strange. He’s so strange.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.

“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.

“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”

“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”

Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”

“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”

“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.

Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.

“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”

Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”

“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”

Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.

“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”

Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”

Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.

“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”

Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.

“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”

“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”

“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.

“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.

“Oh, Reg…”

“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”

His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.

It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.

“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”

“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.

“Isn’t everything I do weird?”

Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.

Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.

He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.

Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.

“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”

Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”

Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.

“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”

Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Regulus asked.

“About me…”

“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.

“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.

“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”

Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“

“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”

“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”

Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?

“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”

Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.

He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.

No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.

And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.

But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.

He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.

Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.

He’s Barty’s first choice.

And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.

He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.

It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.

And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.

He does that with other people, doesn’t he?

Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.

Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”

Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”

“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”

Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”

Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”

“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”

Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”

“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”

“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.

Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“

“Well, don’t you want to be more?”

“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.

“What?” Regulus scoffs.

“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”

“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”

“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.

Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.

“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”

Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”

Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”

“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”

“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”

“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”

“And how do you need it?”

“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”

Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”

Regulus smiles, “You are.”

Barty shakes his head.

“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”

Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”

Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”

“Really?” Barty sobs.

Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”

Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.

Regulus has never been kissed like that before.

Regulus has never been loved before.

He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.

★ ★ ★

Bartylus shippers unite.

This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.

Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.

Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)

Read here on ao3

If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))

Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus

[atomicladytimetravel]

Quiet Type

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.

I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 5,444

Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.

“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”

It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.

“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”

Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.

“She’s fine, lower your guns.”

Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.

After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.

“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”

Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”

After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.

“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”

Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.

You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

——————

Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.

One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.

“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.

“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.

One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.

“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”

“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.

“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.

“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”

“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”

You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.

——————

One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.

When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.

“So…uh…where you from?”

“You mean recently or before?”

“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”

That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.

“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”

“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”

“Well shit, what a small world.”

You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.

——————

“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”

You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.

“Where’d ya hear that?”

“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.

“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”

Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.

“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.

“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”

“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.

“I just have good people skills.”

——————

Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.

You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.

Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.

——————

You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.

“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.

“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.

“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”

——————

He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.

“I’m…sorry.”

You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”

He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.

“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”

“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”

“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.

“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense.”

You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.

“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”

You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.

“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He waves the apology off and continues.

“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”

You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”

He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.

“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.

You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.

When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.

“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”

Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.

“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”

He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”

You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.

“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”

It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.

“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.

“Can I ask you a question Joel?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.

“Is this a date?”

He chuckles heartily.

“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”

——————

Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.

“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”

He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.

“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”

His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.

“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”

He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.

“I really like you, too.”

You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.

“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”

You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.

“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”

“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”

You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.

“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.

He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.

“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”

He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.

“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.

He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.

“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”

He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.

“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”

He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.

“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.

“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.

“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”

“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”

You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.

“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” you manage to squeak out.

He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.

“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.

“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”

He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.

“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.

“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.

“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”

You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.

“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.

“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.

“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.

“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.

“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.

“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”

“No, rail me. I can take it.”

“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.

“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.

“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.

He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.

“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”

He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.

“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.

“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”

He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.

“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”

With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.

“Holy hell woman. That was…”

“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”

He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.

“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”

“Noted,” he chuckles softly.

“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.

“Of course.”

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

“Two guys, chilling in collapsing cave, 2 feet apart bleeding out because they’re not gay”

listen batjokes is cannon, no matter what anyone says.

(After this Bruce LITERALLY SAYS “I’m just going to stay here. With my friend” GUYS PLEASE 🙏 THEY’RE SO FUCKING GAY)

it’s like the most fucked up relationship in the history of ever, but yk they are fucking gay for each other.

I subscribe fully to the headcannon that Batman literally has the hots for joker, tbh he does actually want to kill him, he would actually kill him, he just has unironically feelings for him.

like in every single other universe they are either lovers or the same guy or in love with their evil/good counterparts.

flashpoint: the Batman and joker are literally Martha and Thomas Wayne.

earth something: the Batman who laughs is LITERALLY THE JOKER AND BATMAN TOGETHER IN ONE ENITY. GAY

earth something: joker is redhood still and Bruce is owlman and that universes joker flirts and likes main cannon Batman. And MAIN CANNON JOKER LIKES FUCKING OWLMAN.

I CAN GO ON.

gay, so gay.

who are we fucking kidding???

Bruce has a thing for deranged, like at this point it’s purely out of stupid love that he doesn’t kill the joker.

like it’s the only way any of his canonical actions make sense, he straight up would have left Jason to kill the joker if he didn’t care about him.

like ??????????????

anyway there you go

[justanotherperson1]

How tall is Bay OP compared to the TFP bots & cons?

I just imagine TFP Megs having to look up at Bay OP, scared shitless as Bay OP glares down at him like he just insulted his carrier. Bay OP bitch-slapped a Dinobot (Grimlock) over twice/three times his size like it was nothing, he would destroy TFP Megs.

"In my universe, I ripped your head clean off your shoulders. And that was when I was missing an arm."

Imagine if they met Bay Megs too... :0

I was going to sit here and make a joke about how Bay! Optimus was so much shorter than his Counterpart and Megatron in TFP! Because I when I was first researching it I saw he was about 22 feet tall compared to their enormous 30’ and 32’ feet… but then I found sources saying Bay! Was 28’ or that TFP OP was 35…. DOES ANYONE KNOW THEIR CANNONICAL ACTUAL HEIGHTS???? Am I just blind???? Do I not know how to research??? Does anyone have an official chart???

Anyway, Bay! Op IS the goat when it comes to violence no matter what size, but I had such a funny image of him being a smidge taller than bumble and looking UP at Megatron saying those same things and still getting that same reaction. AND THEN Megatron- if he ever found out about his Bay! Counterpart would have to deal with the fact that he had a stint where he went mad in the middle of Africa with transformer organic babies (????) and ended up stranded on earth with little to nothing anyway being hunted down by three different organizations so Dude is pressed to say the least. I feel like Bay! Megatron doesn’t have that same dog in him like TFP Megatron does tbh.

Now, if Bay! Op was taller….. It would be like facing a dark ronin of death leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Yikes.

[lostiolite]

Saw you liked dangerous fellows and are accepting requests, I was wondering if you could write headcannons for all the characters? Maybe include how they act the first time you meet in comparison to how they are after getting close with them. What they're like with physical affection, holding hands, kissing cuddling etc. Whatever you can think of about a headcannon basically. You don't have to but I'd also love if you could include other characters like Judy, Sue, Jae and Scarlett! (If you think she's redeemable 💀) Thank you so much! <3

so i didnt due jay or hailely but anyways yeah! sorry for taking FOREVR

and its not proof read because i am not proof reading 3.0k words on a laggy laptop

LAWRENCE  

He's interesting, a knight in shinnng armor with some… things going on. I don't think he’d change much over the course of your relationship. He is down for anything because it's you. 

He's kind, calm, and very attentive. He notices things about you that you don't even realize. He always seems to pop in at the most convenient moments. This has to do with the fact that he's extremely over protective and territorial of you. He doesn’t let  it show early on though. 

After you get close and kind of stuck with him is when he shows his much more overbearing side. Hes like a sick guard dog that scares anyone away. Anyone who steals your attention, female or male, platonic. especially romantic he doesn’t like. He gets jealous, like crazy jealous. Hes insane, he holds your worth over his own family (cannon), but that doesn’t mean he isnt above hurting you. Thank god it wont ever come to that though. Both in cannon, because its too dangerous and the lack of profesionall medical tools could mean the msallest injury could be fatal. And in a no zombie au because, well the law. Korea is the land of cctv afterall, his ass would get caught. 

Overall, hes very helpful. Hes always down to listen to you. To him, your voice and love is a cure to even his darkest thoughts. Hes very genuine in his love with you too. He wont hesitate to compliment you or give you a little kiss here or there or everywhere. He loves holding hands, kissing and cuddling. He wants to be with you, be you and be your savior. He loves you genuinely with all his heart. He could be stuck an eternity with you and you alone and he would be happy for said eternity. To him, you made all the wrong in life right, and the once dull colors vibrant. He actually enjoys waking up now. He’s a very complex man. I dont think he cares about pda, or public appearances much when you’re inloved. He couldn’t give less of a fuck what everyone else thinks, (he does actually).  I dont think he has much self worth. Its hard to explain. Hes smart, pretty and (probrably) athletic, or physically capible. He knows he the guy girls and even guys swoon over, but he doesn’t really have a personality. His only sense of self worth comes from his academics and what others think of him. Hes begun to find life dull, even so he doesn’t know what else to do. Everyone is snakes so when he meets someone (you) whos genuine he latches on with every bit of his being. You gave him the ability to find his self worth as a human and outside of academics, which also means you hold alot of power against him, even if you dont know yourself. I think he really just needs to learn that you love him for him no matter what. Then his extreme tendencies will lessen abit. As for love language i think he exceeds in all of them, though he may lack in quality time for his busy schedule. Study with him, he would really enjoy it. Even if you aren’t talking, just cuddling or embracing as you do your studies is something really intimate that makes every part of him warm. He could genuielnty get lost in thought looking at you. Will do your hair, doesn’t matter what kind of hair you’ve got. He will research and learn how to take care of it. Again, to him intimate moments like freshly showering and in pj’s is something that makes him so happy he could die. He’s also fine with matching outfits. But I think he likes matching stationary and studying tools more. It makes him smile. Back on the topic of studying, he LOVEs when you ask him questions, it could be a simple “9x9 is 81 RIGHT???” and he’ll smile as he nods. I think once he learns some genuelen self love and respect, he will be awesome. Tbh, i dont think he’d raise his voice in arguments, I think he’d be somewhat condescending. “Oh dont you get it?” “this is for the better”. Lowkey i feel like he’d deflate imeediatley after out of fear that you’d leave. When you move in together i think the highlight of his day will be waking up next to you. Wakes up an extra hour early jsut to cuddle you.

As for children, i could see 2 paths. Genuine love after he learns self respect. Or the Aishi route where he only loves them for being the actual embondiment of the love between you and him. But i like the first idea more so- he does everything his parents couldn't. Tries his best to promote their studies while also giving them love. 

EUGENE

Standoffish, and tsundere. Hes very cautious of people. He has firm boundaries of who he considers friend or foe. That being said he becomes much more attentive and protective (different than Lawrence) to you. He wont let anyone defame you and acts like a worried mother, telling you to dress up for the cold and chastises you for forgetting sick. Kind of like a worried mother. Hes very blunt and sometimes comes off as rude but he genuinely doesn't mean to. 

As for physical affection i feel like hes playfully aggressive. Big fan of hand holding in public. I think he likes to hold your head close to him. Hes a big fan of arcade dates, especially the rhythm game ones. He loves playing crane games even if they are rugged. Will do the cliche thing of winning a gift for you at a carnival / fair but its the cutest thing ever. Forehead kisser 100%. Composes music for you, its a huge way of showing his love for you. Makes playlists and burns cd’s for you and to listen to together. Would love it of you were to return the act. If you play an instrument or sing he would 100% wanna duet. Omg imagine starting a band with him. You don't even have to make the music, you could literally be the artist or music video maker. WOuldn't that be so cute (i cant help but think of niigo) 

Much more understanding of fandom culture and things of the like, so yapping about your fav artists or even characters would be nice because he actually understands most of the internet lingo. Likes all your social media posts and makes stupid silly comments. All your moots/oomfies know who he is because wherever you are, he is aswell.

When hes comforting you, he will usually bash the other party for being the cause of your sadness. He usually insults them and their viewpoints while rubbing your hair. Hes really stubborn, so please be patient with him. Hes trying to get better, because he doesnt want to hurt the person he loves.

ETHAN

Unioricnly, a nice bonding time would be sleeping lolololo. Hes extremely standoffish at the beginning, like usual. But once you get his socials, he becomes much more understandable since hes able to communicate better online through sms. Even though hes a rather dry texter, you slowly learn to understand him more. I dont think he would go out of his way to participate in cheesy coupley stuff. BUt, if you asked him to then he would. I dont think his personality toward you would change much and most people woudnt be able to tell that you are dating but thats honestly for the better because hes generally a more private person. However, just because its not visible doesnt mean that he doesnt love you. WIll put his life on the line for you in a heart beat. And considering his physical strength he will not hesitate to put someone in their place if they tried something on you. 

Despite his muscular figure, hes very cuddly and cozy. I feel like hes a crazy sleeper who sleeps in the wackiest positions. But, he always manages to wrap his arms around you. I feel like he would kiss you on the nose or lips.  Please help him study for all the classes hes slept thoruhg. In return he will do something like “this is for you ___” while hes playing baseball or something. Wether or not he misses it still enamores the people viewing because its so weirdw watching ethan, the usually cool and quiet one proclaim his love for you. On that note his teammates find his subtle change in behaboir cute. Like the way he starts constantly checking his phone during practice to see if he got a text from you. Or the small smile that tugs on his lips informing them that he got a text from you.

I just know he would be horrible at comforting you. Probably just stands there confused. He puts his hand on your shoulder then hugs you because thats all he can do. He will text you later, when his thoughts are much more composed. These messages are  heartfelt because you can tell he put effort into it.

ZION

He teases you with malice at first, like he does with everybody. But once he gets a soft spot the teasing become more endearing and he becomes much more protective of you. If you don't like the teasing he will (try) to stop. Only he can tease you and will get one anyone for teasing you (if it makes you uncomfortable). I dont think hes the biggest fan of PDA, more just things like hand holding and thats it. The nail in the coffin for your relationship is when he becomes vulnurbale and opens up about his past. Hes a big and small spoon tbh. As much as he portrays himself as rash, he is ultimately a big teddy bear. He definitely gives big bear hugs. Definetly just a straight up mouth kisser. Oh yeah he would square up with anyone who tries anything on you. Not to mention hes really rich so he would blacklist them from the neverland parks. Spoils you rotten, makes a while fiasco out of any achievement and throws a big fat fucking party, or if your not a party person just buys something really expensive and makes a big deal out of it. Takes you shopping for clothes and anything you like (like… figurines). I don't think he would be opposed to the idea of ordering custom plushies/figures of the two of you. As for his rich family, they obviously wouldn't be fond of him dating a commoner but he can always marry someone for political gain and just spend his time with his actual partner.

HARRY

Self-depricating and too kind for his good. Hes extremely nice to you as he is everyone at the start so you dont really feel special. Hes the type to be straightforward and as you out. Hes very old fashioned, or tries to be considering his lack of money. Im going to be honest i dont think hes in the best mental state. He would jump off the roof if you asked him too. He feels like a burden to his mother just for existing and will take along time to open up to you. Hes also very manipulatable, due to his lack of selfworth. Hes much more willing to indulge in pda. Afterall why woulnt he showcase his love for you? Doesnt have mch money so his dates usually consist of cheap convenience store runs or hanging out at his work. As self-loathing as he is, would probrabbly be the best partner. He will very much communicate his feelings. Hes very patient with you despite all your flaws. He loves you from the earth and back and would do anything to make you happy. Please get him a violin (im pretty sure he sold it in cannon to pay for bills?). Will play you dozens of love songs and your favoirtes. Shows up with flowers and chocolates on valentines because thats how he is. The very supportive golden retriever boyfriend who will cheer you on no matter what. Hes your best friend and number one fan.

JUDY

Happy trooper! Shes super jolly and just like Harry overly nice to everyone so its hard to tell how much you mean to her specifically. I think she would also be straight forward about confessing but much more nervous and blushing. She starts jumping with joy when you accept. Huge pda fan, will give the biggest fattest fucking smooch to you whereever whenever. Loves cuddling, doesnt care about big or small spoon. Just holding you close is enough for her. Super smily and her demeanor can lift you up in a ,matter of seconds. After getting into a relationship, not much changes other than the blatant kissing. sHe is more real with you and will voice her doubts about things that scare her. shes really good at keeping herself grounded and helping others. Posts you for national bf/gf day and says endearing cheesy things. I cant help but feel like shes silly with text but also unirronicly uses smily faces like an old grandma. 

SUE

Shes similar to lawrence, but like not batshit crazy. She also isnt as playful, espcially when you first meet her. Her treatment towards you will be either one, you dont really care about your studies and act stupid and she kind of just shoves you aside or you are her study buddy or someone she deems respectable. Shes also kind of like a nagging mother but not too a harsh degree. She always takes note of your state and brings you snacks/gifts because they reminded her of you even if she doesnt realize it. She kind of quiet and introverted but i dont really think she minds pda. She doesnt see why she should chare about what others think about her relationship afterall. Though, i dont think she goes out of her way to kiss you in public, she saves it for more intimate or important times. 

If i can recall correctly she was part of student council so trust she will be using that to her advantage if anyone tries to bother you. I think spending time with her is fun especially because she probably helps with school events so you two always have something fun to do. Afterall whats better than helping out at a fair and also getting to go on a date at the same time. Dating Sue has a ton of perks because (especailly if you were already a goodie-two shoes thats liked by teachers) teachers will be way more lenient of you. Practically letting you guys do things that the other kids cant do. Shes definitely big spoon and is surprising really cozy. I think fur coats would look nice on her so hugging her in the winter is definitely a plus. 

SCARLETT

Shes a hard one to get along with. Her abrasive attitude doesnt really change much and its really hard for you to tell when she starts to like you because again, her attitude doesnt change. Its smaller things like her worrying about you under the gaze of simply being curious. If your oblivious or just dont catch on to her, it will just eventually get to a point where she aporaches you, asks you out and demands an answer. Definitely a big pda person, and flaunts you around like “heh! Yea this is MY partner. Goes or drags you on shopping dates. Not only does she dress up but she dresses you up and she has a really great eye for fashion. Its very clear that shes the “bratty princess” characatchure.

Anyways i think she would have a fun time setting up a home date for the two of you, like doing your nails as you two listen to a tv drama channel or just gossip. Very iconic couple and gf 10/10. I think she would switch between big and little spoon, she doesnt have a solid preference, its more of a spur of the moment feeling for her. Kisses you with lipstick and takes photos.

[k4marina]

guesss who’s back to rantttttt 🙈

adding into this, i feel that simon wearing his mask (with the diy skull and the printed one) would do the complete opposite of being a ghost like literally. technically, simon riley is dead. he died in a fire with his family and the last thing he needs or wants is attention.

i mean can u imagine the rumors going around?

“that bloke who wears that skull mask? he’s bare weird man” (idek if that proper slang, pls don’t kill me).

i also feel like it would also bring unwanted people from his work to his home (or the little hole he lives in. i mean let’s be honest, it’s pretty fkn bare). there aren’t many people who are british, have a gravely voice, AND wear a skull mask. i mean that’s an easy target right there.

i don’t think that simon would introduce himself in a civilian setting as “ghost”. if a guy came up to me and said “call me ghost” i’d fkn laugh in his face and call him a bozo.

why would he introduce himself with his callsign if he isn’t in the “work” environment???? again that’s just unwanted attention.

i 100% believe that simon and the rest of the 141 are the types to have a work life and a civilian life. he wouldn’t want to bring any of the shit he has to go through at work back to his hole home.

as much as he hates being alone back in manchester, he still needs it. he needs a break from all of the war he has to go through.

ghost and simon are two different entities with two different lives and just because simon riley is dead on paper doesn’t mean he’s actually gone.

simon knows that if he brings ghost back home he’s only hurting himself and falling into a bottomless pit.

that’s why he wouldn’t wear the mask in public or anytime he’s on leave (unless it’s his home and there has to be a very specific reason why), and that’s why he wouldn’t walk around telling people his callsign.

unless the fic is taking place on base with a soldier!reader, there is no actual reason why simon would wear the mask and go by ghost.

ghost & mask = work

simon & and bare face = home or just civilian life.

there’s no reason why he would want to mix work and civilian life together.

and if people can say that he’s insecure about his face and don’t want to show it off, but i’d have to disagree. i mean did u hear him when he was talking with soap?

bro was 100% smiling like a cocky little shit when he said “quiet the opposite”. this mfer knows that he’s hot and enjoys it. in my delulu mind, i think simon enjoys whatever scars are on his face because he thinks they make him more hotter (i also don’t think he has that many scars on his face bc i think it’s one of the hardest places to attack idk).

that’s still not to say that he won’t get the usual waves of depression and the usual stares from people for his beauty and scars, but he’d still take it over the weird looks when he gets when he wears the mask.

technically speaking, no matter how attractive, it’s harder to remember someone with a pretty face and accurately described it than remember a mask and describe it, which i think simon understands completely.

someone also brought up the cut scene before the “no russian” one of where simons and the 141 are in the bar and he’s wearing the mask.

i have to agree with the person who said this that people saw that and took it face value that he wears the mask outside. not everything is lore, or is it 100% cannon. sometimes some things are for shits and giggles.

if you’ve read it this far i just wanna let y’all’s know i’m not trying to be mean. i’m just ranting. i’m all for creative freedom and wanting ppl to write whatever they want, i just want it to make sense yk? and if i came off bitch my bad bro.

anyways imma go sleep or smt. caio ;)

[picklebunbun]

Nikolai Gogol x male! reader head-cannons

☾

------------⁂✧★✧⁂------------

hc or oneshot/series: headcannons

male! reader, you/your pronouns and masculine pronouns, can also be read as trans or cis reader

nikolai gogol x male! reader

genre: maybe a bit of angst if you squint but a lot of fluff

romantic/platonic?: romantic

fandom: BSD

cw: nikolai is insane {what else is new}, mentions of de@th, philosophical beliefs

{angel’s note🪽: I barely see any nikolai x male reader fics, we need some for our mlm guys! Nikolai is also one of my favorite characters}

~~~

Scenario:

I guess this is how you two meet if you already didn’t think of a scenario like that

anyways, you could be held hostage by him, Nikolai definitely expected you to beg and scream for him to spare you

people desperate to save their lives and weeping for their killers to save them was always so pleasant to his ears

you were different, however. Maybe you weren’t as smart as Fyodor or as charming as Dazai but you got him

he was surprised on how philosophical you went on him, you understood how fragile life was, how useless it could be if you don’t accomplish anything, in short, after that conversation, he thought you were precious

it also took a bunch of convincing to keep you alive to fyodor

~~~

actual hc’s:

you mean A LOT to him, always around you, wanting to be in your presence

it honestly doesn’t matter if you are a man, he doesn’t care if people give you guys dirty looks {he’ll just cut their legs off later!}

definitely quizzes you for fun, even if you get the answer wrong he’ll give you a peck on the lips

pulls your legs through his portal to scare then gets really happy when he sees you

“hi, моя любимая!” (don’t confuse that with russian btw)

“NIKOLAI WTF???”

probably annoys his victims talking about you, and how lucky he is to have you as a [boyfriend/fiancee/husband]

if you live with him, he puts this LOUDD alarm at like 4am to wake you up

he likes bathing/showering with you, it doesn’t even have to be sensual, it’s just nice having a moment to yourselves

don’t let him cook for you though, he’d burn the place down, not even joking

gives you a human heart for valentines day, the smell was vile, mostly up to you if you want to throw it away or keep it

brings 1000 animals to your place, a few of them were giraffes, HOW’D HE EVEN GET THAT

if you’re in the DOA he’d be your partner every single time

if you don’t work with him he’d be happy to introduce you to Sigma and Fyodor, but he’d also rather you stay away from that organization

he makes you braid his hair every single day, even if you’re horrible at braiding, it wouldn’t matter cause he’d still keep his hair like that

PROBABLY SLEEPS IN HIS JESTER OUTFIT TOO, WITH HIS STUPID SHOES AND EVERYTHING

LOVES physical touch and giving gifts, they’re his love languages

speaking of physical touch, he likes giving you big bear hugs, holding hand and cuddling with you

pulls your face through the portal to kiss you, it’s actually pretty cute

also, your gifts mostly consists of body parts or dead corpses {how romantic}

{this is a little short, sorray 😞}

~~~

[andi-dromeda]

New all caste au

To explain the all caste and Jason being a god thing, Ducra stated Jason was the first human in a thousand years to have survived the cleansing process. That’s cannon. Now I know he canonically fulfilled a prophecy about killing the devourer of young souls before he even left the all caste so at MOST he was 18. Obviously he canonically resurrected too, has the all blades which can only hurt true evil, is primarily known for challenging Bruce’s morals and was the ‘magic’ Robin. Resurrection in lots of different religions is associated with gods. Him being a god isn’t like, the craziest thing to happen. Especially for a bat I mean come on, I’m pretty sure Duke’s a demigod or at least close to being one thanks to his dad.

Anyways Jason, Tara and Grant are all new avatars of a Justice god trio. I don’t think I’ll use actually mythology so I’ll have to come up with names for them but anyways to unlock their full powers they’ll have to ascend. To ascend they have to first live a human life, suffer and then right the wrongs that have harmed them. For Jason that’d be killing the Joker and forcing Bruce to get his shit together, for Tara it’d be kicking her dad’s ass and everyone who experimented on her probably also revolutionising her kingdom, and for Grant it’s dealing with his parents. However, since Slade is the closest thing Tara’s got to a good dad and she does really care about him you can see why they might have issues.

Jason doesn’t want to ascend because he feels his morality is heavily influenced by his human experiences and if he were to ascend he would loose his humanity which made him moral in the first place. Mostly because he’s seen what someone who’s privileged and virtually untouchable can convince themself is right *cough cough* Bruce. This means he can’t kill the joker because otherwise he would lose his humanity. Therefore in his attempt to not become Bruce, he still has just in a different way. Killing the joker is Jason’s one line that he can’t cross. That and sticking up to Bruce.

Tara somehow has even more complicated feelings on the matter. She comes from a family that supposedly had the divine right to rule. Due to her being born because of infidelity she was kept from that divine right. Markovia believes their royal family were granted powers by the gods who then punished them for their greed. Tara was taught to believe that the gods favoured her father and his legitimate sons over her just because she was born in different circumstances. She got powers from people who experimented on her and tried to turn her into a weapon. What with the dark side club taking away her agency and using her for her powers, she comes to really value autonomy and sees her powers as almost a divine punishment. The gods didn’t give her powers because she was illegitimate. When she got powers anyway, she was flung about by fate and forced into fighting for the wealthy patrons’ entertainment. So now to find out she was a god herself and all her suffering was prophesied and necessary for her to be truly just… let’s just say it’s complicated but she is most definitely pissed. When it comes to her opinion on ascending, she doesn’t exactly have the most positive view of gods. Combine that with a bit of pre-existing self loathing and an intense need to be recognised as human and not just a powerful being to be puppeted around by patrons/fate, she doesn’t really want to ascend. So she’s forced to watch her brother buckle under the weight of all of Markovia on his back and see her home be ravaged by tragedy. Because if she did intervene she’d no longer be Tara. She’d be a powerful being who’s only good so long as she’s useful, again.

Grant is totally down for getting rid of his parents and ascending because he’s always wanted to be stronger, he doesn’t care about losing his humanity and has no issue with getting some revenge on his parents. This then gets complicated by his parents having changed. They aren’t entirely different people but Slade especially treats his kids better. Tara’s willing to fight for Slade and once Slade finds out his son’s alive he tries to rebuild their relationship (granted in his own way but it’s certainly a surprise to Grant). Grant is super distrustful (VALID) but decides he can leverage the situation over Slade to get him to do things. However, then Joey gets involved. Whereas Jason was taking a more subtle and patient kind of redemption for Grant (Jason’s original more bossy approach didn’t work so he decided to be more patient and lenient) Joey has no qualms with forcing Grant to confront his own misdeeds. Joey’s not as mad about Grant leaving as he is that Grant came back to life and didn’t tell anyone. Joey is pissed and now Grant’s more focused on apologising to Joey than he is torturing Slade. Well at least for a little bit.

Also I’ve been thinking about their powers. I see like two different options. Since Tara has earth powers and she died under rubble I’m thinking of either giving them all elemental powers or giving them all powers relating to how they died.

1) Tara has rock powers. Jason has fire/light powers (because his all blades). Grant has ice? Or some other element.

2) Tara has rock powers. Jason has explosion/smoke/fire powers (because of his death). Grant has poison powers (because the serum poisoned him).

3) Tara has rock powers. Jason has explosion/smoke/fire powers (because of his death). Grant has mind powers because when he died Raven was messing with his head. [Added bonus of Grant getting the lamest power in his opinion.]

4) Or classic sky, land, sea trio. Tara is the land, and the other boys get one. Idk what way around though.

5) other 🤷

[catcheroflies]

some random head cannons i have for the marauder characters, but it’s not random i actually believe these whole heartedly! and will cry if told otherwise that they aren’t true.

regulus:

regulus goes by he/they

regulus has ocd, but doesn’t care to fix it and kind of likes the discipline because they feels like he needs it/deserves it

regulus absolutely loves the rain

ballet is the only thing that they like that his mother put him in.

disassociates a lot to the point you have to get their attention a lot.

they forget to share their thoughts and experiences a lot because his parents never really asked, and since sirius left they just don’t see a point.

cat person

they love kids actually, but is very awkward with them, but if he evens smiles at one they’re automatically that kid’s favorite person

marlene:

where’s different socks, doesn’t care kind of likes if they’re mismatched

emotional support necklace

lesbian

german roots

loves braiding her hair

loves cheerios

knows sign language

hates wearing bras

james:

deaf james

he reads often, that’s how he actually got close to remus, and they exchanged book recs and whenever someone is shocked by this news he just shrugs.

chocolate cake kinda guy

he actually smokes (i don’t get the whole james doesn’t smoke cause 🤨😧? anyways)

loves ear piercings

dated sirius for a couple months, but they both decided they’re better off as best friends (moe not hating romantic prongsfoot?? shocker! (not really) anyways)

dorcas:

she collects bottle caps

is a cigarettes after sex song

favorite class is potions

is a ravenclaw, but almost got into slytherin

remus:

wears red nail polish

is really fucking awkward

is the it boy for hogwarts, and genuinely gets shocked by this news when mary and lily tell him this

uses a cain/walker a couple days before the moon and about the first week after

you wouldn’t think his space is organized, but if you asked him to get something specifically to see he could easily in a matter of 2 seconds grab it for you

can sleep anywhere

has a bag he carries around everywhere and since first year his friends have been decorating it

nightmares frequently

this boy has really bad anxiety to the point he steals some fidget toys from regulus

anger issues

to the contrary of popular belief his first best friend was regulus.

mary:

sleeps with a stuffed turtle

is an older sister to one sister

has older sister guilt, but feels the pressure of one frequently

likes gossiping, but not as much as people think

she’s actually really smart, but her mental health gets in the way

hates being alone

has a sibling relationship with sirius and james

fast talker

she doesn’t trust easily, but she’s so outgoing to the point it seems like it

I HAVE SO MUCH MORE FOR THESE PEOPLE AND CHARACTERS I JUST DONT FEEL LIKE PUTTING THEM ALL BUT YEAH

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket says take a fuckin' study break ✩࿐࿔

in honor of it being finals season for many of you, i'm resharing the take a fuckin' study break drabble/minific from ✩࿐࿔ take what you need here, in full. ao3 version here.

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: 1,020.

“Ow!” you yelp, rocking back on your stool and scrubbing a hand at your forehead. “Did you just flick me?”

“I been talking at you for like two minutes,” Rocket grouses. “It’s like talking to a frickin’ wall.”

You glower. “I told you. I’m studying. And writing. And studying. Leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he jeers. “Terran finals. Whatever. Sounds like a waste of time. Haven’t the humies on that backward mudball realized yet that tests don’t actually measure learning? It’s like using a yardstick to measure time.”

You sigh and lean back. “Yeah, they know. Doesn’t matter though. If I want to pass these classes and get this stupid degree, I need to–” You scrub at your forehead again and sigh. “You know what? Never mind. I cannot have you un-motivating me right now. What did you want?”

He leaps neatly onto the stool across from you and sets two glass bottles on the tabletop, then leans his forearms on the little table between you, smirking smugly. “To pay you back, cupcake.” The mockery in his voice does not bode well for you. “Remember what you told me last week when Adam was whining about how I was making him study the Bowie’s schematics for too many hours?”

You feel your stomach drop. “No,” you lie, big-eyed.

His smirk only grows. “Lemme refresh your terrible frickin’ memory, then.” Now his teeth are sharp and he heightens his voice into a whiny falsetto. “But Rocket. Maximum productivity is only five-to-seven hours a day. You can overload the crappy baldbody brain if you go longer than that–”

“Pretty sure I did not say ‘crappy baldbody brain,’” you interject dryly.

“–and he could lose everything you’ve taught him already. Plus, he needs fifteen-to-twenty minute breaks every fifty-to-ninety minutes.”

You stare at him flatly, unwilling to dignify his bad mimicry with a response. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s snickering openly at this point.

“Time to take your fuckin’ break,” he tells you. “It’s for your own damn good.”

You feel your brain fluttering in your skull like a trapped bird, and your heart is already starting to pick up the pace too. “Rocket,” you plead, all that old academic anxiety spiking high. “Unlike Adam, I’m actually on a time table. I need to finish all this by–”

“And if what you told me was true, I’m not gonna let you overdo it and lose it,” he tells you, his voice dropping for just a moment into something serious and intent. “Now get up. You’ve been at this for at least an hour-and-a-half.”

You hesitate, staring reluctantly at your laptop screen.

“Do I gotta give you a direct order, kid?”

You glower at him and drag yourself off the barstool. He turns sideways on his own, leaning against the table lazily and taking a mouthful of his ale. “Five deep breaths,” he orders lazily. “Your eyes aren’t laser cannons, and your angry looks aren’t gonna shut me up, cupcake.”

“God, I hate you,” you tell him, and then close your eyes and plant your feet and take your five stupid deep breaths.

“Roll your shoulders. Three times in each direction.”

You start and he cuts you off with a barked, “Slower. Start over.”

You scowl at him and do it.

“Touch your toes.”

“Geezus, I hate you,” you repeat. He just raises a brow and waits till you follow his instructions.

When you rise back up, he’s nudging the second glass bottle in your direction. “Drink half a’ that.”

You glare but lift it to your mouth anyway. It’s just water – but it’s the perfect temperature, and you suddenly realize you haven’t had anything but caffeine all day, and even that had been hours ago. You end up drinking more than half, easily.

Rocket sighs and shakes his head when you put it down. “Okay, ready for your next mission?”

“Rocket, I don’t have time–”

“It’ll take less time if you shut up and do what I frickin’ say.”

“You are the worst.”

He grins and his tail flicks. “So I’ve been told,” he concedes with mock humility, like you’ve just given him a compliment. He raises a clawed finger. “You need some fresh air, and you need to eat. You’re gonna go down to that street food stall in the Zygomatic Arch and get yourself a roasted yaro root wrap. Then you’re gonna come back and Kraglin’s gonna meet you across the street from here with a data pad. As long as you’re eating that wrap, he’s gonna let you scroll through those Terran holovid transmissions–”

“It’s goddamn Tiktok, Rocket.”

“–for exactly five minutes. No more an’ no less. And then you’re gonna come back in here and drink the rest of your water and I’ll leave you alone.” His grin widens. “At least for the next ninety minutes.”

You stare at him witheringly. “I hate you.”

“You keep saying that, cupcake, but I don’t think it’s true.”

You sigh, and feel your shoulders drop in defeat, and you head toward the open tambour door that leads into the streets. It’ll be nice, you grudgingly suppose: to breathe some fresh air and get some of the artificial Knowhere sunlight on your skin. To stretch your legs out and grab a snack and see some people, even if just in passing.

And it’s good that Kraglin’s gonna be in charge of the datapad because he’s such a fucking simp for his captain that he’s not gonna let you go over the five minutes Rocket has rationed for you on Tiktok.

“Kid.”

You pause in your steps and glance back over your shoulder at Rocket. His smirk is just a little softer, and you abruptly remember that this jackass actually cares about you – like, really cares about you. He just tries to hide it under layers of being fucking annoying.

“You’re gonna win your finals.”

You blink, and a laugh startles its way out of your chest, softly puffing out of your mouth. “That’s not–” you start to say, and then you laugh again and shrug. “Sure will,” you tell him affectionately. “For you, Captain. Thanks.”

please remember to take 15-20 minute breaks every 50-90 minutes! (set alarms on your phone to help.) use that time to open your window or go for a walk (even if it's cold). take some deep breaths. stretch. drink water. unclench your jaw. talk to someone who won't let you stay distracted for too long. and grab something to eat (even if it's just a granola bar). brains don't retain jackshit without sleep, nutrients, and moments of rest.

you got this. you're gonna win your finals.

check the ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist for more self-care reminders, including eat somethin, drink some goddamn water, and go to frickin bed already (yeah that means you).

[brucenorris007]

knocknocknocknock

Rouge groaned and sat up; going by the rapid tempo, she had a good guess on who was knocking even before she opened the door to the house.

Sure enough, Sonic stood on the other side of the threshold, one hand raised in greeting.

“Shadow,” Rouge called over her shoulder. “It’s for you.”

“Actually,” Sonic said. “I’m here to borrow Omega.”

Rouge blinked. Twice. Raised an eyebrow and called again.

“Omega, it’s for you!”

She could hear the bemused, off-kilter beat of silence. She looked back at Sonic.

“Since when do you make house calls for Omega?” She asked.

“First time for everything, right?” He said with a shrug. “We’re in kind of a hurry and I don’t wanna play Shad’s guessing game about whether or not he’ll sucker punch me before he’s willing to have a conversation.”

Rouge opened her mouth. Closed it. Considered the point.

“SHADOW HAS ENGAGED IN MORE ERRATIC, INCONSISTENT BEHAVIOR RECENTLY.” Omega commented, stomping up to stand beside her at the door.

Sonic smirked.

“At least we know what we’re getting with Omega.”

“Fair.”

“Okay,” Sonic said, turning on his heel. “Let’s go, Omega!”

“NEGATIVE.”

Sonic choked in a false start and nearly tripped over their front stoop. He looked back, bewildered.

“Huh?”

“EXPLAIN YOUR OBJECTIVE AND WHY MY PRESENCE IS REQUIRED.”

Sonic blinked.

“Right, yeah, okay,” he said. “We’re figuring out where Eggman is.”

The borderline silent whir from Omega’s chassis got louder by a fraction of a decibel.

“TO DESTROY HIM?”

“We’re trying to find him first,” Sonic said, smoothly avoiding saying one way or the other what would happen when they did find the doctor. He scratched his head, fingers parting his quills. “We can’t tell where he’s doing his evil thing from. Tails can explain it better, but whatever tech he’s using isn’t connected to the same network as the rest of his bases.”

Sonic raised both hands in a shrug.

“Something like that, I think.”

Rouge digested the information silently; depending on what the doc was up to, she might get called in.

“Anyway, that’s where you come in,” Sonic said, pointing at Omega. “We’re gonna pull a con on Eggman.”

“You came looking for Omega to pull a ruse?” Rouge asked skeptically.

“He works with you, doesn’t he?”

“AFFIRMATIVE.”

Rouge smirked and patted Omega’s arm cannon.

“It does mean a paint job,” Sonic said. “Temporary, I swear; you ‘capture’ me and bring me in to one of ol’ Buttnik’s bases. Doesn’t matter what he’s up to, he’ll pay attention to that.”

“AND THEN I EXTERMINATE HIS INFERIOR MODEL ROBOTS?”

Omega, as usual, posed the question more like a statement.

“Ahh,” Sonic hedged. “You’d have to hold off on that; just until he gives up where he is!”

“UNACCEPTABLE. IT IS OBJECTIVELY MORE EFFICIENT TO ELIMINATE INDIVIDUAL BASES UNTIL HE IS FORCED OUT OF HIDING FOR LACK OF RESOURCES.”

Sonic’s mouth twisted into a borderline grimace. He glanced at Rouge; she shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood to help mediate, especially not on her day off.

“That’ll take ages, though,” Sonic said. He paused a second; a sly grin stretched across his face. “Besides, think about it; how ticked off will Eggface be when he figures out he got tricked?”

“. . .”

Rouge recognized the hum of Omega’s CPU; he was considering it.

“Even better,” Sonic said, thumbing his nose. “How ticked he’ll be when we bust down his door and break all his toys?”

“EXTREMELY.”

“He’ll blow a fuse; so, you in?”

Omega’s engines revved in lieu of an answer and he blasted off from their porch. Sonic send Rouge a backward, two-finger salute before tearing off ahead of him.

She watched them go for a moment before closing the door. She backtracked to the living room and flopped backward across the sofa; gracefully and accurately landing with feet over the armrest and her shoulder against Shadow’s, eliciting a halfway resigned grunt.

“Omega should be in a good mood when he gets home.” She said idly.

“Hrm.”

Rouge shifted to grab a cushion and reposition her wings.

“You could’ve gone with them if you wanted.”

“I didn’t.” Came the slightly too snippy reply.

Rouge rolled her eyes and snatched the remote out of his hand.

“You have been sucker punching a lot lately.”

“Shut up.”

@generic-sonic-fan

[freshmangojuice]

I know it’s been said before but it still fucks me up that rimmer isn’t Rimmer you know. like yeah he’s a hologram but he’s also just not rimmer. it’s not like he’s his ghost. he’s a computer simulation of the real rimmer based on his memories and personality and everything. you could make the argument that if rimmer had survived along with lister, he would react to things differently and have different opinions because even in the future a computer would still have limitations. it can’t know how he would have grown and developed as a person, it can only guess. I feel like I’m not explaining this well but do you think lister ever thinks that when he’s talking to rimmer. like this isn’t him. the real rimmer is dead. I’m talking to a computer ai right now. I’m feeling very emotional about this

I am also very emotional about this and apparently I have a lot to say about it so bear with.

Firstly, what gets me the most is although the boys act as though our Rimmer is a continuation of the Rimmer that died, he's not. He's fully not. He picks up where the dead Rimmer left off but that doesn't mean he has his soul. And even the Rimmer the nanobots brought back isn't the old Rimmer either. He's basically the same as a hologram except he's made of matter.

And the other thing I wanna talk about is that Lister for sure is cognisant of Rimmer being AI. But if he thinks about it too much he will spiral. That’s why in TPL when cat is being an asshole to Rimmer about how he doesn’t exist, it’s Lister that tells him off. I still think that moment is mostly for Rimmer’s sake, Lister knows he’s sensitive about it and how it can affect Rimmer, but it can also affect him!! He’s basically saying 'shut up don’t remind me that my best friend isn’t technically real!! Because the moment I believe that I’m screwed!'

I think also when he’s younger and Rimmer is soft light it doesn’t cross his mind at all. And if it does, it’s not that huge of a deal because he hasn’t lived like this for that long. Rimmer's a hologram run by a computer and the real Rimmer is dust, what difference does it make?

But by the time Rimmer gets his hardlight drive I think it’s around then that Lister's psyche is affected. Because they’ve been together for several years now, they’re so used to each other. And Rimmer being a hologram is totally normal, just like the cat is totally normal, and Kryten is totally normal. Even though the cat is a cat he's not a human, and Kryten is a robot. But now Rimmer can interact with and touch things, they can share meals if they want, and he’s so much more like an actual person. That's gotta be when it starts to get kinda fucked. The lines blur.

Series VIII is barely cannon to me, but Lister getting to meet nano!Rimmer, the human Rimmer that he used to know- that’s a big deal when you think about it. And we think a lot about the time difference between them and how Lister has all these wild experiences and changed as a man and this Rimmer is just back to how he was when he died and it's so weird for Lister. But what about just the fact that he's real? And the lines blur even more because now it's very clear that the Rimmer he knew was a computer simulation of a dead man. But now the dead man is his bunkmate and that's confusing.

Fast forward to BTE and if you're like me and agree the Rimmer in BTE onward is the original hologram who became Ace, then what the fuck does Lister do with that? He's clearly attached and considers him to be real, he treats him like he's a human being (as much as these two can anyway). But the difference between now and when he was 23 and they were first reunited is now Lister has all this history and confusion with this hologram of Rimmer. And deep down he knows it's AI. But he can't believe that. Because if he believes that Rimmer isn't real, then that means he's so much more alone than he's been pretending to be.

Human connection is what MAKES us. So if you can't accept that this hologram counts as a person, then you have no one. And that makes you no one.

[doombum]

Can we get your scoop to Michael head cannons? (If I ask this and forgot then Elizabeth :>)

I think you already asked that but my memory is awful and it doesn’t really matter, you can have some more scooped Mikey headcanons:

It hurts him to speak but he does it anyway because while Ennard was in control, it was basically the only thing he could control because Ennard/the funtimes just used their voice box. It brings him a strange sense of comfort to have at least one thing they didn’t take from him.

His body is very weak and he can’t do too much at once or he’ll get exhausted very quickly. Just standing up and walking can be hard after some time, which is why he often uses crutches when he goes out (though he hates it at first)

He became taller too, because Ennard miscalculated and he was a bit bigger than Michael was, so his body was stretched to accommodate. It made it hard to walk at first because he had a whole new centre of gravity (add to that the sudden change of weight because of the lack of organs, and he basically had to learn how to walk all over again).

He always hated looking at himself in the mirror, because of how much he looked like William, and that didn’t particularly change at first because he felt absolutely disgusted by the sight of himself. With time (and Jeremy’s neverending comfort and reassurances), he ended up getting used to it and even preferred seeing himself as a corpse than as William

He used to wear the mask everywhere he went, including at home, but Jeremy slowly managed to make him feel comfortable enough to not wear it inside at least. Though every time someone comments on his appearance or he brings a new ghost child home, he ends up having to start the process all over again. He is just very self-conscious and doesn’t handle well stares and mean comments

And here you go for Liz, because she deserves some attention too:

She is the middle child in my AU (just because I like the idea of Evan being the youngest). She is also the one who died first in the family.

She acts a lot like a spoiled kid and always demands to be offered things and be the centre of attention, but she is not really that spoiled in reality. Her father ignores her a lot and only gives her things so that she’d stop bothering him. Mike tries to please her, but he doesn’t have much money to give her as much as she wants. She easily gets jealous of other kids as a result.

She comes off as very selfish and bratty to other kids in her class, but it’s just because she tries to imitate William. At home, she is really kind and always tries to help her brothers and spend time with them. She plays and draws with Evan a lot and they often watch Fredbear and Friends together. She also tries to help Mike around the house because she sees that he’s tired and doing his best to care for them so she wants to participate.

She would get jealous of her brothers, but she could see that they weren’t really getting more attention than she was. The three of them were actually pretty close before everything went to shit when William killed Charlie. Grief is what ultimately drove them all apart.

She didn’t really have any friends in school and it really bothered her a lot because she couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong. Her brothers tried to cheer her up but it didn’t always work.

She idolises William all the way up to fnaf 6, when she finds out he planned for her to kill Mike at SL and she feels betrayed. She sticks with Mike from then on and considers him her new dad/father figure because he always was there for her and William can go rot in Cassidy’s hell.

She never wanted to actually kill the nightguard, but she had been alone, scared and in pain in the SL basement for decades and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She felt awful the whole time Ennard was using Mike’s corpse as a skinsuit and was trying to convince the funtimes to leave now that they were free. She really hoped that the nightguard was not conscious of the whole thing (she was horrified to find out he was).

[the-starry-seas]

it's Star Wars Day and I probably can't actually keep fiddling with this so hey, why not post it? :) anyway it's been a year and I still think that Paz dying was bullshit so here we are, I'm unburying my gays so they can kill people on their date

The thing is, Fury’s used to loss. 

It’s all a clone is expected to know. Losing brothers to injury, disease, enemy soldiers, sometimes even their Jedi commanders – they were made to be killed. They were meant to be disposed. 

Mandalorians aren’t like that. They’re built on community. On hope. He’s seen it, over and over again. Even in Boba and Jango, who were isolated from their culture for so long. The strongest of lone wolves yearn for a pack. 

Which is why it makes sense that Paz would risk his life for his tribe. They all do, in every battle. There’s never any guarantee that any one of them will come home, no matter how much they want to, or how well they fight. It’s the risk of being a solider. They all know that. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to let Paz go. 

So when the blast door starts to come down, Fury does the only thing he can: he drops and rolls, the bottom of the door scraping the paint from his pauldron as he narrowly avoids getting pinned to the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Paz demands. 

Fury doesn’t answer, just headbutts him, hard. Not the tap-together of foreheads that symbolises affection, but anger, more real than he’d like it to be, because if it’s real, it can hurt him. 

Paz can hurt him, too, more than he knows. 

“This is not the time!” Paz adds, as if Fury could just go back to safety with the others. 

“It is now,” Fury snarls at him, and turns to shoot at the kriffing Imperials. 

He can hear the beat of Paz’s cannon to his left, steadier than his heartbeat, and focuses on shooting to the right. The most important thing he can do is watch Paz’s back. That cannon will handle most of the rest. 

When he hears blaster bolts pinging off Paz’s beskar, he flinches, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t fear death the same way as natborns, not when it’s been staring over his shoulder every time he’s looked in the mirror since he was a cadet, but Paz’s death? 

That terrifies him. 

That’s why he’s here. 

And fortunately for him, no matter how stars-damned stupid Paz may be about himself, he protects his family. It’s half of what Fury loves about him, even if right now, it’s also incredibly infuriating. 

There’s no time to talk or think when you’re shooting your way out of an ambush, and it’s probably for the best, considering what Fury wanted to say when he rolled under that door a minute ago. Part of him still wishes he was yelling right now, but the more talking he does, the less shooting will happen. 

Of course, the shooting ends eventually. There’s only so many soldiers that a hidden base can throw at them, but more than that, there’s only so long that Paz can run that cannon before it overheats. The place falls strangely silent, then there’s the sound of a few blaster bolts, a grunt, and the impact of armour against armour. 

He turns. Paz is knocked down to one knee, holding the Imperial back but not able to get to his feet again when they have leverage. His boot slips on the rock.

With no time to reload, Fury tosses aside his blaster and tackles the Imperial over the edge. His jetpack gives him the advantage, aiding in a flip that slams them against the wall of the cliff, loosening their grasp just enough for Fury to kick them loose. 

He doesn’t stop to watch them fall, just scrambles back up, narrowly ducking under a soldier thrown doll-like over his head. There’s only three left. Two halfway across the platform, and the third with Paz’s hand around their throat, blood spilling over the edges of their cracked visor as their feet twitch feebly in midair. 

A handful of drops sizzle against the barrels of Paz’s cannon, laying at his feet, and then the soldier is flung aside, unmoving. 

The other two try to run. Paz’s jetpack sparks as he looks up, half-crouching like he always does before taking flight, but Fury’s is in good shape. He snatches Paz’s vibroblade from his belt and launches upward, slitting one Imperial throat before crushing the next against the wall in a full-body blow. Whether they’re stunned or dead doesn’t matter; they hit the floor near Paz, and he kicks them over the edge to drop with the others. 

When Fury lands, he flings the blade down between them, and the hilt cracks down the middle. Neither of them give it more than a passing glance. 

“What were you thinking?” Paz demands, flinging his left arm to the side in a gesture that encompasses half the area. He hunches over slightly when his arm extends all the way, and Fury knows the signs of him being hurt. 

Doesn’t matter right now. He’s too pissed off. 

“I was thinking that you were trying to be an absolute kriffing moron,” he snarls, “by staying here alone! What was supposed to be the point of that?” 

“To give you the chance to escape. To get out of here.” 

“How dare you?” Fury takes his helmet off. A stupid decision so soon after a battle, but one he makes so Paz can see the full extent of the hurt on his face, so that the tremble in his voice doesn’t get smoothed out by his vocoder. “How dare you think I would leave you?” 

His fingers curl around the edge of his bucket as he steps forward, just enough to reach out and set his fingertips over the iron heart on Paz’s chest. 

“You’re my heart. Don’t you remember me promising? Because I could never decide to walk away from you.” 

“There are no easy choices in war.” 

“This one was. And you tried to take it away from me.” 

He can only share secrets when they’re wrapped in layers of late nights and early mornings, and he doesn’t have to look at anyone. But they’re still told, one little detail at a time, like tiles of a mosaic being pressed into place. Paz has heard, over and over, that the clones weren’t allowed to choose anything that mattered, anything that could change their lives for the better. 

It was the hardest learning curve in their relationship. The clone who resented anyone that made a choice for him after years of slavery, and the Mandalorian who made things happen his way so he could more easily protect people. 

Sometimes they’re a shitty pair, even after they learned how to compromise. Paz still overrides other people, when there’s no time for discussion. Usually it doesn’t matter, but sometimes it just sparks the wrong way, and the fact that Paz has never hurt him intentionally just makes it harder to deal with. It would be so much easier if he could say you hurt me without Paz being hurt in return. 

“E'tad'nare,” Paz says quietly, holding his hand out palm-up. 

He can’t say he’s sorry. Probably never will. 

But that’s okay. 

Fury sets his hand in his riduur’s, fingers flexing for a moment over Paz’s palm before they lace with his. 

“E'tad'nare,” he whispers back. Seven Actions. The six that govern all Mandalorian lives, and the seventh – to love his husband, unflinching, to forgive mistakes and be forgiven in return. 

They’re not good at I’m sorry, but they’re good at I love you eternally. He kind of likes that about them. 

The moment evaporates when they hear a scrape of metal against metal. Fury’s helmet is on in a moment, but even before the HUD flickers back to life, Paz has rushed one of the red-armoured guards. Protecting his riduur, as he’s meant to. 

Fury draws his own knife, and follows him. 

The electro-weapons make things difficult, but there’s no backing down. The other blast door won’t open, and the hole that kriffing Kryze put in it with the darksaber isn’t big enough to fit either one of them. 

Whether she knew Fury would stay with Paz, or just can’t plan for shit, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s punching her either way. 

At least if these red troops don’t kill him first. 

They converge on Paz, and they’re doing a pretty good job of beating him to a pulp before Fury catches up to them. 

He carries a long blade, Whisper’s influence, and its sharpness means it gets through the fabric underarmour with almost no resistance. It pierces lung and heart before they realise they should be afraid of him. 

When the body drops, the other two draw back. This is where it will get hard, but he’s never been afraid of hard. If he was, he would have gotten wiped out on his first deployment. Honestly, the only thing he’s really afraid of is Whisper before xe's had xeim caf. 

Paz snatches up the soldier’s dropped weapon before one of the others has time to reach it. He won’t know how to use it, but he’ll learn from watching the others. When they strike, he’ll know how to strike back. 

“Back up,” Fury says in Mando’a. 

He and Paz move in sync, Fury matching his movements, the soldiers advancing at an equal rate until Fury says to stop. His blaster might not be much help against that armour, but he can only imagine what he’d hear when they got back home, if he left it aside while a fight happened. 

In the time it takes him to reload, both guards lunge, trapping Paz between them. One has their whip wrapped around his throat, pulling him off-balance, and the other is raising theirs sword-like, ready to run him through. 

Fury does the first thing that comes to mind, and shoots them. Several bolts hit them in the side and under their arm, injuring them enough to knock them back, but not enough to take them out of the fight. 

It’s enough time for Paz to surge upwards like a wave, roaring indistinctly as he falls to crush the soldier strangling him against the concrete floor. Their grip loosens just enough for him to get free, his jetpack sparking atop his shoulders.  

He wrenches it loose and flings it away behind him, hand outstretched toward Fury. There’s only one thing he could need, and Fury tosses him the blaster without hesitation. Paz nearly fumbles the catch, but salvages it just in time, twisting the moment his finger touches the trigger. 

The jetpack explodes, taking the guard with it. Fury spares no glance for the crater left, beskar gouged into shrapnel, intestines roped across the floor. Not when there’s still one left. 

Now that they’re alone, they look nervous, fingers clenching and loosening around the hilt of their whip as their weight shifts side to side. 

Good. 

Fury’s not usually the kind to take pleasure in a death, but this time, it’s personal. 

He and Paz move together, tossing out the occasional coordinating word in Mando’a, but mostly working quietly. They learned the steps of this dance a long time ago. And even though it doesn’t carry over into the bedroom, it’s still the fun kind of dancing. 

All they need to do is get Paz back to where he’d dropped his cannon earlier, the barrels cooled enough to fire again without warping or exploding. The moment his gloves touch the metal, it’s over. The soldier in the red armour, whoever they are, doesn’t have time to scream before whatever was under their helmet is turned to paste. 

“Well, I didn’t approve of that shit at all,” Fury says conversationally, taking his blaster back to holster it and hooking his thumbs in his belt. He shifts his weight, rolls his shoulders, tilts his head. No injuries. 

Now he just has to figure out how to get them both out of here. The blast doors were never an option, not with it being sealed from the other side and them having nothing to cut with. He could take the same route as the ships from the hangar… but his jetpack won’t carry both of them. 

There’s a clatter, and he stills, looking for what made the noise. Just Paz. Picking up his broken knife and discarding it again. Fixing it would be as expensive as getting a new one, and vibroblades can get… independently minded, once the internals are affected. 

“Are you all right?” Paz asks. 

Fury tilts his head to the side. Hm? A glance downwards tells him what Paz is worried about. 

“Not my blood,” he says. 

Paz steps closer anyway, the fabric of his glove rough but his movement gentle as his fingertip lifts Fury’s chin. Fury can feel his cheeks heat at the quiet, murmured good. 

“This is not the place,” he mutters. 

“It’s a little bit the place.” 

“It’s not the time,” Fury adds, laughing despite himself, even as he doesn’t turn away. Paz knows better than to get distracted at a time like this, but there’s still room for teasing. 

“What’s your plan for getting us out of here?” 

“Oh, it’s my plan, now?” 

“You’re the smart one.” 

“And the hot one, which leaves you to be the funny one, I guess.” 

“I have jokes.” 

“You have the worst ideas imaginable,” Fury corrects him, “that are delivered with the cadence of a joke. Even Jules hates them.” 

“Jules hates everything except your flatbread.” 

Mm, true. Their kid’s at that special age where all he thinks about is fighting people and causing trouble for his parents, preferably both at the same time, when he can manage it. 

“I’m going to call in Racer for a ride out,” he decides. 

“Come on,” Paz protests. 

“Stop whining about her flying.” 

“No.” 

“Racer,” Fury says, talking over Paz’s further complaining, “Paz’s jetpack is gone. We need a flight out, can you ping my helmet?” 

There’s a laugh in his earpiece, then nothing. Well, at least she heard him. 

He and Paz pat down the bodies, while they wait, and find nothing but the weapons. They can be turned off, fortunately, so they each coil one on their belt, for later. Fury knows without asking that the third will go to the tribe’s leader, giving her the chance to reverse engineer it for others in the covert. Speaking of which… 

“Your mom’s going to be furious when she hears about your jetpack.” 

Paz pauses, as if this thought had not yet occurred to him. It might not have. Then he shrugs and gets up from where he’d been crouched over the body of the third soldier. 

They both know he’s right, so there’s no argument. Instead Paz sits with his legs over the edge of the ledge, staring above them as the occasional fighter whizzes by. 

Fury can imagine his face under the helmet, calm – for the moment – and curious. Shame they’re not alone, because the blindfold is tucked into Fury’s utility belt like always, and he always loves the taste of Paz’s mouth. But Paz would never risk breaking the Creed that means so much to him, and Fury would never ask him to think about it. 

“Coming in hot,” he says a minute later, echoing his sister’s words. 

Paz scrambles up and away from the edge, which seems a very reasonable reaction to Fury, considering he’s already tucking himself under an overhang by the blast door. It’s the most sheltered spot on what’s otherwise a flat span of concrete, and he’s going to need it. 

Paz follows him, pressing close, standing between him and the hot gusts that will fly off from the ship’s engines as it lands, a few moments from now. 

“Hi,” Paz murmurs, their chestplates scraping together as he breathes in. 

“Hi,” Fury repeats, and leans a half-step closer. 

A shuttle rockets through the crack in the ceiling, swooping down to spin in place an arm’s length away from them before the hatch slides back to reveal the pilot. The circle and a half was just for show, he’s certain of it, and she’s much too close considering how wide the rest of the ledge is. 

“Kriff me,” Fury mutters, scowling at her even though she won’t see it through his visor. 

“Thought you just said we couldn’t,” Paz replies, and grunts when Fury punches him in the shoulder. 

“Hey,” Racer bellows, smacking her palm against the shuttle’s side, “stop making out and get in the stars-damned back already!” 

“I’ve heard before that in-laws are the worst,” Fury says. 

“You like my mom.” 

“Yeah, but me? I come with a five-ring circus.” 

Paz shrugs. “I like it.” 

“Good, ‘cause I like you too.” 

Paz steps aside, and Fury squeezes his hand in passing. He hops over the shuttle’s low door, landing with his boots on the seat and half-falling down to sit. Paz takes his time a little more, circling around the back of the shuttle to take the seat next to him. 

“Seatbelts!” Racer hollers over her shoulder, and flies off at a much faster speed than would be safe whether they wore them or not. 

Fury rests a hand on Paz’s knee, his other reaching for his blaster in case anything comes up next to them, wanting to shoot them out of the sky. It pays to be prepared, just in case. And it pays to be with his riduur, who always makes sure he comes home. 

[multifandomfanficss]

More Than I’m Willing To Lose Part 4 (finale)

Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Reader

Featuring platonic!11th Street Kids.

Adrian Chase Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Prompt: The team has found Jack and they’ll stop at nothing to take him down, but you and Adrian just want to keep each other safe.

Warnings: panic, gun violence, scientific experimentation, mentions of sex in a joking manner, cannon typical Peacemaker violence and language

A/N: Here it is! The final chapter! It’s so crazy to me that I’m actually posting this almost exactly a year ago from when I started writing the first chapter in August of last year. I didn’t think I’d ever finish this one. I always intended to, but never did. I’m happy I finally got around to it. I hope you guys enjoy! 🥰🧜‍♂️

You sat and listened as Harcourt gave the rundown on how the mission would go. From what they could tell there was only one guy really involved. Jack seemed to be working alone. Nobody really knew why, but they didn’t care. Leota was going to run the mission, John would be running head on tech and coms, and Adrian and Chris would be the muscle. Emilia planned on staying back to watch you, just in case anyone tried anything while the team was gone.

“I’m not staying home. I’m going.” You decide.

“No, you’re not.” Adrian says adamantly.

“That’s not fair! I’m the reason we’re in this mess. Why can’t I go?” You question him.

“We’re not talking about this right now.” He tries to avoid the subject, walking away, continuing to aggressively pack a bag of weapons.

“Yes, we are. I’m a part of this team too. My shoulder is healing great and it’s not like I do much field work anyway. I’ll stay in the van! Why can’t I go?” You ask again, following him.

“Because you’re more than I’m willing to lose!” Adrian snaps. You stare at Adrian in shock. You don’t know what to think about that statement, but you don’t want him to go without you.

“Kid, he’s right-“ Chris starts.

“When have you ever agreed with him?!” You turn to look at Chris.

“Look, kid-“ You cut him off.

“I’m a grown adult don’t treat me like a fucking child.” You snap. You feel bad. You know he’s not calling you a child when he says that, but you just got so angry. You’re not even angry. You’re just scared. You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you need to be on this mission. It’s not a big deal. It should be easy peasy. Just let us get in, take care of it, and get out. Nobody thinks any less of you, we just think you don’t need to worry about it.” Leota tries to reason with you.

“I updated the coms and there’s trackers inside now. You can watch them at all times no matter how far away you are and I’ll loop you in if we need anything.” John promises.

“Please,” Adrian takes a deep breath. “Please stay here with Harcourt.” He begs.

“Okay.” You say flatly.

“Okay?” Adrian is relieved.

“Yeah. I’ll stay.” You weren’t happy about it.

“Thank you.” He sighs, hugging you before going to help load the van. “It’ll be okay.”

“You know he’s just trying to protect you right?” Harcourt asks once they’re gone.

“I know.” You sigh. “I just don’t like not being there in case he needs me. You and I both know how reckless he is sometimes, especially when someone’s really pissed him off.”

“He’s gonna be okay. He’s an idiot, but he’s practically indestructible.”

“I know. It’s just the practically part that scares me.” You watch the computer closely, trying not to think of all the what ifs.

“You really love him don’t you?” She asks as you stalk the coms tracker.

“Is it that obvious?” You give a dry laugh.

“Yeah, but if it helps I’m pretty sure it’s mutual. If I didn’t know you two, I’d assume you were dating.” You look at her in disbelief.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Chase doesn’t look at me like that.” She smiles at you in an effort to make you feel better. Moments like this were rare with Emilia. You would consider her your friend, but you didn’t often get to talk with her like this.

“Leota said the same thing.” You smile.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe Adebayo and I are right? We all see it.”

“Really?” You question.

“Yes. Why haven’t you told him yet?” She asks.

“I don’t have the best track record with people I like. I tend to get rejected far more than anything else and I’ve lost friends because of it. Our friendship means too much to me to change it or lose it because I couldn’t keep my feelings to myself.” You sigh.

“Something tells me he feels pretty similarly.”

“Why won’t he just tell me? Why do I have to tell him?”

“I think he’s been trying to tell you, but doesn’t know how far is too far with boundaries. He’s probably just as scared to lose you. I don’t know why you can’t see that. You can read him better than anyone else. It’s like you two are the twins from the fucking Shinning.” You laugh at her comparison.

The joy doesn’t last long. Suddenly the trackers start to go offline. “What the fuck is happening?” You try to refrain from freaking out. Harcourt picks up her phone, making a call.

“John, why did they all just go offline?” She has him on speaker phone.

“I don’t know, but the last thing I heard before they went out was that they think we might have underestimated how many people are involved.” He seems nervous.

“Fuck!” You let out a nervous yelp.

“Can you see their last known location?” Harcourt asks. You nod, showing her your screen.

“Get in the car.” She says, packing up her weapons. You pack your computer equipment, speeding off with Harcourt to meet up with Economos. You stare out the windshield silently.

“They’re gonna be okay.” She says.

“They fucking better be…I- I never told him…” Your voice trails off.

“You’ll get to tell him. If the night doesn’t end with you and Chase cuddled up on the couch ranting about your weird fucking nerd shows and making gross kissy faces at each other then I’m gonna kill every fucking mobster in this goddamn city until I find our team.” She says, gripping the steering wheel.

You see the van and you park alongside it, hoping in.

“Thank god you’re here.” Economos lets out a sigh of relief. As Harcourt and Economos devise a plan you start to get ready to head out into the field.

“What are you doing?” John asks.

“I’m going out there and neither of you are fucking stopping me this time.”

“Chase wouldn’t like this.” Harcourt starts.

“Well Adrian isn’t fucking here. I’m getting him back.” You head out and she follows you.

“Fine, but I’m leading.” She walks ahead of you with her gun drawn into the building their coms went out in.

“John, I think we figured out why we were only ever able to see one guy in this building…” Harcourt trailed off, staring into the entrance to the cave. “It looks like their operations are mostly underground. I think they took over an old butterfly base.” She guesses.

“Are we sure they aren’t butterflies?” He questions.

“I don’t seen an excess amount of amber fluid anywhere and they’d have to have it stock piled because the cow is dead now. There’s only a couple jars. They need so much to survive. It’s their only food source.” You remind him.

“We’re going into the tunnel. I’m not sure if this will cut off our signal or not.” Harcourt informs him before you start climbing down. There are multiple rooms. The first one you reach seems to be a meeting room for operations. You start reading papers on the tables. Harcourt was a solider. She was used to this, but analyzing was your job. You could actually do a lot of helping with this part. Your eyes start to water as you stare at the papers. “What?” She looks at you, sensing your discomfort.

“They’re not butterflies. They’re trying to become butterflies. We need to find the others they’re in a lot of fucking danger right now.” You say, starting to grow panicked looking at the failed experiments before you, records of trials done to turn humans into super soldiers with the strength of butterflies without being alien. They were using the amber fluid they found at the abandoned Glen Tai factory, but it wasn’t enough. They needed more data on the butterfly DNA. That’s what Jack was stealing from your laptop.

“What the fuck do you mean become butterflies?” She was confused.

“That’s what he needed from me. He wanted the data on the butterfly DNA that I had stored on my laptop.”

“Well aren’t you smarter than I gave you credit for?” You heard a voice you never wanted to hear again from the doorway. Harcourt drew her gun. “I’ve got your little boyfriend locked up and being prepped for trials as we speak.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You try to remain calm.

“Oh that’s right. You just wish he was. That’s why you went out with me…because he doesn’t love you. You know, I didn’t expect to have to shoot you.” He shrugs. “Not in the street at least. I was hoping you’d invite me in so we didn’t have to make a scene, but you’re still saving yourself for that idiot.” He laughs at you.

“What do you want, Jack?” You cringe, thinking of the night.

“I’ve already got everything I want. I have my data. I have more test subjects. I even have you right where I want you.”

“What are you talking about?” You ask as Harcourt scans the room. She watches as more men come around the corner with guns. She’s trying to plan an exist strategy.

“I hate to admit it, but I need your help. You can help me or you can try and fail to save the guy that’s been leading you on for a year to the point where you stopped dating completely. I may not love you, but at least I’m not leading you on.”

You look at Harcourt and see she has a plan before you make your next move.

“Sure because asking me out on a date only just to shoot me and rob me isn’t leading me on at all.” You laugh. You shoot him and Harcourt takes out the other men. “What was it you said to me? You thought this way would be more fun? I hope you’re having fun, Jack.” He isn’t dead yet, but you know he’s not getting up anytime soon. “Watch him I’m going to find the others.” You start to run out the door.

“Since when do I take orders from you?!” Harcourt yells after you.

“Please?” You ask more nicely, popping your head through the door again.

“Go.” She smiles. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get up and nobody gets away with these documents.” You smile back at her before running out the door and down the hall. You check every room, careful not to draw any unwanted attention in case anyone is left. Finally you open a door to see Chris.

“I’m glad you’re here, but your ex boyfriend is fucking crazy.” Chris jokes.

“He’s not my ex. Don’t call him that.”

“Did you bang?” He questions as you untie him.

“No, of course we didn’t!” You protest.

“Hey, don’t judge. One time I banged this chick and she had like crazy stamina. I thought she was just super into me, but turns out she was a butterfly.” You cringe.

“Oh my god please stop talking about your sex life for once and go find Leota!” You beg him.

“I’ll stop, but only because you’re getting upset because you don’t have one and I feel bad for you because you got shot.” You and Chris part ways before you can kill him to find the rest of your teammates. You open door after door until finally you find him.

“Adrian!” You run to him. He snaps his head up from it’s relaxed position to face you. He’s not wearing his mask. They must have ripped it off of him. He looks a little roughed up.

“No no no no what are you doing here? You can’t be here.” He starts to worry.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Everybody is okay. I shot him. I think we took out all his people.” You start untying him.

“You shot him?!” He’s surprised.

“Yeah…”

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” He gushes. You blush. “I mean I really wanted to shoot him, but I’m glad if anyone else did it, it was you.”

“I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me down here. I know you were trying to protect me, but I couldn’t lose you.” You continue to work on his bindings.

“I couldn’t lose you either.” You finish untying the last knot and he shakes the ropes off.

“No, Adrian, you don’t understand. I think I’d die if I lost you. Like-“ You pause, sighing. “I can’t keep pretending like I didn’t hear you say you loved me that night in the hospital and- and if you said that just because you thought I was gonna die….” You pause taking a deep breath. “You can take it back- if you meant it just as friends you can take it back, but I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen. I can’t write it off as drugs or sleep deprivation anymore. I don’t want to! I love you! I love you and I’m saying it sober and of my own free will because I need you to know and god I hope I’m not gonna fuck up our friendship by saying this, but I need you to know I love you and- and you said that I’m more than you’re willing to lose, well…if I lost you I’d lose everything… Okay?” He stared at you. You started to grow nervous. “Please say something…”

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He laughs, pulling you into his arms, kissing you.

“I didn’t want to go out with Jack. I’ve had feelings for you this whole time. That’s why I never dated anyone. I had started giving up hope of you liking me back so I decided going on a date was the only way to try to get over you.”

“This whole time I was worried about getting rejected or crossing your boundaries. You’re the only person who gets me and laughs at my jokes and is always nice to me. Chris told me I would creep you out and you’d ditch me. I should have just said something. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

“It’s okay, Ade. It doesn’t matter anymore.” You kiss him again.

“I can’t believe you shot him.” He laughs. “The motherfucker deserved it, but I bet he didn’t expect it.”

“I didn’t even expect it.” You laugh.

“Well I’m proud of you and I actually think that’s super cool and sexy of you.” He smirks.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, babe.” He kisses you again. You break off the kiss when you hear Leota and Chris’ voices from the doorway.

“You owe me 20 bucks.” She laughs.

Harcourt drove Jack to Belle Reve in her car while the rest of you took the van back to headquarters. You all laughed and danced to music, but this time it was different. You felt stronger. You were more confident now. Not only did you now have a successful relationship starting with Adrian’s arm around you as John drove, but you were also leaving a mission where you’d taken down a notorious criminal doing human trials on an alien drug that shouldn’t exist.

Things were finally starting to fall into place. Things were changing around here for the better. You knew the team would grow and change, you just thought it would be when they added more muscle to the team. You didn’t realize you were the muscle the team needed all along. After all, the heart is the most important muscle in the human body. Love is where you found your strength; through your friends, through Adrian, and through yourself.