#i feel like there's a lot less annoyance ig

[welcometoteyvat]

friend got pulled into genshin again and now its got me thinking about f/f relationship dynamics in this game

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (again, if you look extra closely), a lot of cussing (are we still surprised)

masterlist | part 1 (although ig this makes sense on its own), part 3 (i didn't plan this), part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

“What.”

It’s less of a question and more of a statement—a statement sputtered in the typically demanding way characteristic of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.

The Bakugou Katsuki who happens to be your boss for a good (debatable) three and a half years now, who you also have to spend overtime with until who knows what time to discuss what’s become rocky employee relations in the Ground Riot agency.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion or irrational annoyance—both, really—before you quickly school your expression into a neutral one. You riffle through the documents rather absentmindedly, avoiding his gaze before shooting back with: “What do you mean what?”

“I meant,” he leans back on his office chair that you know he singlehandedly picked out for its superior ergonomic design because he’s meticulous like that, “what the fuck is wrong with your face.”

“Excuse me?”

Your retort is laced with more indignant anger than intended, but at this point in the night, you cannot for the life of you bring yourself to care about your tone. It’s been a long day, and you weren’t about to let your stupid boss make fun of your appearance, of all things.

Bakugou probably senses the significant change in your demeanor, because his eyes widen in surprise ever so slightly before he sits up and opens his mouth to explain himself.

“You’ve been looking like you accidentally drank spoiled milk for the past hour and the shit aftertaste isn’t going away.” He haughtily shakes his head, and it takes everything in you not to jump him and choke your boss.

To your disdain, however, he continues.

“It’s either you spit it out or I’m going to have to force you to tell me what’s wrong.”

You gape at him. Whatever you expected him to say, it wasn’t that.

As quickly as you can, however, you attempt to regain your bearings and at least try to seem nonchalant, clearing your throat as unbothered as possible to top it all off. “Well, working overtime to iron out office squabbles isn’t exactly my idea of a relaxing Friday night, thank you very much.”

He scoffs. “Bullshit.”

You almost get whiplash from how quickly you look at him. His brazen rudeness—which, right now, is worse than usual which is saying something, mind you—renders you incapable of saying anything aside from another winded: “Excuse me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Miss me with that bullshit, dumbass.”

You feel yourself heat up in irritation. “I thought I told you to stop calling me dumbass.”

“You’d rather I call you princess?”

At that, you break eye contact despite yourself, choosing to stare at his forehead instead. It’s still unnerving—looking at any part of his body, really—but it��s better than looking at him squarely and witnessing the smirk you know has taken over his unfairly handsome features.

Your voice is small, to your chagrin, when you reply. “That’s actually a lot worse.”

The man dares to bark out a laugh.

You continue to metaphorically choke him in your head.

“Okay then, dumbass,” he emphasizes the nickname and you are about 99% sure a pained expression is dancing across your face because Bakugou is observing you with even more amusement before his features settle into a look of seriousness.

“As I was saying before you missed the point entirely—I highly doubt you’re this bothered because of fucking overtime,” he eyes you cautiously before pressing on. “Something’s wrong.”

You don’t know if it’s the exhaustion of the week filled with workplace conflict, or the crushing news you received this morning in the mail, or the very fact that Bakugou, despite his roughness and the annoyingly persistent way he’s been poking at your mood like it’s an itchy scab, is looking at you with genuine concern—but you end up doing it.

You give in.

You feel the tears welling up in your eyes before you even get the chance to deny them permission to, and at the sight of them Bakugou sits up even straighter in alarm—and you don’t know what comes over you because you start laughing so hard, your hand shoots up to your stomach in an attempt to keep it from cramping.

“Oi.”

The expression on his face is so unbelievably baffled that you only end up cackling to yourself more.

It takes a few more minutes before the sillies are fully flushed out of your system and really, it only took you a glance at Bakugou to realize you probably looked demented just now.

Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes and muster enough courage to flash him a genuine smile.

To your delight, he flashes you one right back, albeit tentatively—one that is boyish and charming under the rather dim lights of his corner office.

Although he seemingly reboots to his default state because it’s immediately replaced by a frown and followed by: “You’re so weird, you know that?”

You snort and, before you can stop yourself: “Not as weird as my ex.”

At that, Bakugou’s entire countenance changes—he visibly stiffens in his seat and his eyebrows furrow in what you believe is confusion at the sudden mention of your past lover.

Bakugou says nothing, however, and so you take that as a sign to continue.

“Remember that meeting we had last March with Chef Asahi about our collaboration with his restaurant where I was late and you gave me shit for it? And when you asked I told you it was because I just got dumped over the phone?”

He gives you a curt nod, lips tight.

“Well,��� you chuckle nervously, feeling embarrassed at your upcoming revelation, “I just found out that that ex is getting married in two months, and I’m invited.”

Neither of you says anything for the next—what feels like—hour.

Until Bakugou takes a sharp inhale, leans forward on his desk, and stares you down straight in the eyes: “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

He scowls at you like you’ve got a pea for a brain. “Don’t make me say it twice, dumbass.”

You frown at his hostility, your own bewilderment chipping away at your already thinning patience. “You’re not saying anything.”

Bakugou sighs, and he looks like what he is about to say next physically pains him.

“I’ll be your fucking date to the wedding.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik

special shoutout to @he3v4n for reading the prequel to this and following thereafter--inadvertently making me check out past writing and get inspired to write this <3

[awesomefringey]

Was just reading your tags, I love your "tomlishians" nickname both because it sounds like "chiant" in french which basically means annoying/irritating 😂 and because of how lucid you are on the situation. I often see louies praising louis' siblings just because they're his sisters and they feel the need to idolize everyone linked to louis especially his family and I don't get it. I mean I'm normally pretty neutral about louis' siblings in the sense that I dgaf about them. I'm here for louis, his music and him like his wit, his charisma, beautiful personnality (winkwink) ect. Still it can be hard to avoid them when they're constantly trying to use their brother's name or drama (aka bbg) for attention and it ends up all over your feed. Anyway thank you for making me laugh and on the subject of the recent post, I wanna say I love your blog me too <3 You being present online less often doesn't mean I'm gonna forget that nor your funny memes! Love ya sabine~

Awww thank you!!! This means so much to me!

And omg my annoyance about the Tomlinson sisters is probably very palpable. LOL. I have a lot of empathy for the personal losses they’ve endured so early on in their lives.

But they’re the epitome of nepotism. They’re very privileged, very wealthy, very pretty and have been milking Louis’ fandom for social media engagement for years. They’ve been using their tragedies and traumas, as well as Louis’, they love to wind up Larries and Louies about what the Californian boy is to them, possibly rock,paper,scissors-ing who of the twins can post THE Christmas pics on their IG first.

I can only assume a lot of Louies are still very very young and therefore closer to Phoebe’s and Daisy’s age than Louis’. Couldn’t be me. 😅

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Alright ya horndogs here ya go:

Happy valentines btw! This is something I had thought of for a while and since everyone else seemed to want it as well why not? Also can you tell when the Jane Austen slipped out of me lol it’s as if I got possessed- although I’ve been thinking about a fic where the relationship with Diluc and the MC is like Darcy’s and Elizabeth, I love me some good enemies to lovers!

If you liked it please reblog~ and happy valentines!

Words: 5k I got carried away I’m so sorry but D i l u c

Slippery when wet (I am so sorry) Diluc x fem!Reader

18+ minors dni or faceless Ayato will get you

Warnings: switch!diluc x switch!reader, enemies to lovers ig?

It was no secret to Mondstat that you and the current owner of the Dawn Winery, had some unresolved issues.

You had never liked those pompous nobles who thought the world revolved around them.

And Diluc was one of the worst ones in your opinion.

He was absolutely perfect.

Smart, handsome, knew how to fight, and could be charming when he tried, which was very little and only when he was talking to other rich assholes. He aggravated you.

When you had first arrived at Mondstat Captain Kaeya had decided to give you a tour of the charming town, and you two eventually ended up at a tavern.

You had enjoyed the drinks greatly and wanted to have a second round. When you got up to get more however, your path was blocked by a dozen girls, all making a big scene.

Quickly you figured out it was for the bartender’s attention, but not for him to give them drinks.

That was the first time you met him. His bright red hair was tied up in a high ponytail behind him. He seemed composed, regal like, and you would’ve thought he was a handsome prince from your books if his mouth wasn’t turned into a scowl.

He sighed and he gave the ladies a fake smile, the fakest of smiles you’ve ever seen, for his sapphire eyes showed what he truly was feeling; annoyance.

He was amicable enough, but you could see his patience begin to run short. Eventually he managed to get the ladies out and turned back to cleaning his glasses.

You leaned into the counter to finally order a drink, about to crack a joke about the girls, but as he turned around your smile dropped as you saw the annoyed look on his face.

“Oh archons another one- look I really don’t know how many times I need to say this, but no, I am not looking for a wife right now, and seeing how the lot of you act probably not ever. Your senseless amount of tact is enough to make one want stay alone for the rest of his life.”

You blinked in surprise, which only seemed to make him aggravate him further.

“My patience has run short with you, why can’t you seem to understand that I am not interested? Do you have nothing better to do than bother me? Or are you really that desperate for my estate, my money and business that you’re willing to follow me until I concede?”

Oh.

Oh no, this bastard was not speaking to you like that. You just wanted a drink, for Barbatos’s sake! He was acting so sweet with those girls just now- but when you show up he goes and starts nagging at you?

You glared at the man and stood up, crossing your arms.

“I could give less of a crap about your estate, your business, your money and much less your hand in marriage or whatever, sir. What I want from you right now is merely a drink. I cannot understand how all those girls fawn all over you when clearly they’re pining for a man with such low manners, with such rudeness. Believe me when I tell you not to worry, I’m sure your wish of being alone shall be easily granted, for who in all of Teyvat would want to marry such a deceitful, pompous and egotistical man such as yourself!”

The bartender looked at you, eyes widened and mouth agape as realization struck him.

You were really there for just a drink and he scolded you without thinking.

You swore you saw the tip of his ears redden, as he opened his mouth in what looked like indignation, before a hand wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you towards them.

“Now, now, Diluc, don't tell me you’re trying to scare my guest with that attitude of yours.” A singsong voice called from beside you.

“Kaeya.” Diluc scoffed. “I should have known.”

The blue haired man beside you laughed and began making silly banter. However your mind seemed to be elsewhere. The bartender- Diluc, went back to his stoic facade and didn’t look at you for the rest of the night. Which was good enough since you were sure if he said anything else you would probably punch him in the face.

When you left, carrying a drunk Kaeya towards the Knights of Favonius’ building, you tried asking a bit about Diluc. Just like you suspected, Kaeya explained how he was the son of one of the few noble houses in Mondstat, and how he’d inherited the wine business from his father.

The next time you went there a small quip slipped out of you, and Diluc was quick to glare and respond back.

From that day on the quips evolved into full on banter- the only time you two spoke to each other was when you discussed something or other.

One time Lisa was senseless enough to try and make some peace by mentioning a book, and when you kindly tried to answer her question about what you thought the character’s motives were, you were met by a scoff from Diluc as he corrected you and explained the actual meaning.

And on and on it kept going.

To be honest you quite enjoyed those verbal sparring sessions the two of you had- never stepping out of line, but still annoying each other given the chance.

Whenever you went to the tavern (which by now was mainly just to annoy him) and he wasn’t there you felt a bit disappointed and missed his com- nevermind.

It had now been a while since you had seen Diluc at Angel’s Share, so to pass the time instead you took up a few commissions.

It was near Dawn Winery, which you passed by every now and then. You loved walking through the grounds, and left quickly whenever you heard Diluc was nearby. Still, you managed to become friends with a few of its workers and every once in a while sat to chat with them.

Passing by today a few voices called out for you to sit and chat with them, but you weren’t sure if Diluc was inside since he wasn’t in Mondstat and you really did have to go and do the commission, so you gently let them down and told them you’d come by some other time. With your back to the winery, you failed to notice the redhead on the second floor, watching you walk by.

The commission was supposed to be easy. Destroy a hilichurl camp. That’s all.

You’d never struggled with combat, and you enjoyed it quite a bit to be honest.

What the commission didn’t mention though, was that beside the hilichurl camp was a whole village, with a bunch of abyss mages inside. Taking the camp was easy.

But a whole village?

Fuck no.

You tried to leave, however the whole goddamn place seemed to notice you and began following your trail.

Archons forbid you have a normal day for once, trouble always seemed to find you no matter what.

Eventually you came upon a dead end, a cliff, the village a bit farther from you.

An abyss mage teleported in front of you, making you yelp in surprise and stumble backwards. The mage waved its staff down and summoned a few icicles before launching them towards you.

You closed your eyes and waited for them to make impact having come to terms with your death- however a hand wrapped itself around your waist, and a wave of flames enveloped the mage before burning it to a crisp.

You turned to thank your savior before noticing a familiar pair of sapphire eyes locked with yours. You pushed him back and groaned.

“You? Seriously?”

Afterwards you could barely recall what sarcastic pleasantries the two of you exchanged, the whole village of hilichurls and abyss mages blocking your way.

There were far too many of them. Diluc was sure he could take care of it, if it wasn’t for the little amount of space he had.

Quickly, he turned towards you and told you to jump down. There was a river underneath which could block your fall and no rocks, but you didn't want to take any chances.

“It’s either this or the hilichurls, your choice.” Diluc said. You took in a deep breath and nodded, before the two of you jumped down.

And so now you were in your new predicament, having floated who knows where, all your clothes, bag and items wet.

You stomped towards a nearby rock, droplets trailing behind you.

You grabbed your bag and groaned, slumped with water pouring out.

“How fuckin’ wonderful” you murmured.

Before being allowed to wallow in more self pity and a string of curses towards everyone and everything in Teyvat, you heard a throat clearing behind you.

Groaning you turned around to look towards the owner of the voice. “What, Master Diluc?” You knew he hated it when you called him that.

The redhead’s lip twitched, but he managed to keep a stoic composure.

“I think we should stay here for a bit. It’s safer, and with the fall we just took it would be best to rest.” He explained

“Ugh. Fine.”

Diluc had placed both your coats and shoes on nearby rocks for them to dry, the two of you now in your undershirts.

When you offered to use his pyro to make a campfire or dry the clothes, he shook his head, explaining it could lead the abyss mages right towards you both.

So now you were stuck who knows where, with your pants wet and one of the people you despised the most. The only upside was that the sun was shining brightly in the sky, so the coats and shirts wouldn’t take too long to dry.

“Archons, why do you hate me so much?” You asked up in the sky. “I should be home already, reading a book or sparring with Kaeya or using my commission money to buy something delicious from Good Hunter- but instead I’m here.”

A voice behind you said, “if your first action after receiving money is to waste it immediately on leisurely activities then it’s best you didn’t get it anyway.”

You scoffed, turning to glare back at the voice.

Diluc had gone to check the place out, in case there were any other hilichurl camps nearby and he had just come back.

His white shirt, still wet, stuck to his body, outlining the muscles hidden beneath.

You felt your face flush and you cleared your throat, looking sideways. “Says the rich guy. I didn’t need your help back there, you know? I had it perfectly handled.”

“Oh yes, clearly having a dozen sharp icicles launched at your face while you just stood there is having it ‘perfectly handled.’” Diluc glanced at you, raising a brow, the twinge of a smile on his face.

Oh how you hated the man.

“Hey, Mr. White Knight, get off your high horse. I am so done with you wanting people to idolize you so badly- I am not falling for any of your tricks.” You growled, waving your finger towards him.

You swore a tinge of hurt appeared on his face before it turned to anger.

“Is that truly what you think I’m doing? I just saved you for Barbato’s sake!”

“And why exactly, Master Diluc did you do that hmm?” His lips thinned at the mention of his title. “Do you really think you helped? Now, thanks to you I have lost all the money from the commission. Not only that, I probably made a bigger mess for the adventurer’s guild, and for not handling it correctly I’m probably getting fined, if not worse. You people seriously think the world revolves around you, can you truly not see how your actions affect others? I’m not going to thank a pompous brat who can’t see farther up his nose and is clearly only doing all this to receive praise from others.”

Diluc’s eyes widened. “You seriously believe I’m doing this just to get you to like me? Archons, that is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.”

“Then why did you do it? It’s clear you don’t like me and I don’t like you, so why?”

Whatever retort Diluc had on his mouth immediately died. After a moment of silence he looked at you. “Do you seriously not like me?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “What, has this never happened to you before? Oh wow, the great Master Diluc isn’t loved by everyone, what a shocker! I don’t need you to follow me and try to make me feel like I owe you something, because I’m not like the others who follow your every command. You’re just an egotistical, rude, nagging brat.” You were now in front of him, pointing your finger, spitting out whatever venom you came up with.

“That is not what I want.” He said, a serious expression on his face. “I saved you because I believed- well I believed our relationship to be more amicable. However it looks like it was one-sided from my part…” e said, and you felt a pang of guilt. He thought you were on better terms? Quickly though, Diluc composed himself, now a look of slight anger on his face. He raised a brow before saying, “Isn’t it ironic though, how easily you point out others' flaws, unable to look at your own?”

“Tch, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You are stubborn, don’t ask for help when you clearly need it, you lose your temper far too easily and are unable to even say thank you. Not only that you’re impulsive, a spendthrift and get into far too many fights at the tavern. You complain of my rudeness yet you’re the one always trying to get me to explode, always vexing me.” He yelled.

You were now far closer than before, your noses almost touching. The two of you panting heavily and glaring daggers at each other, before noticing your closeness.

The two of you flushed, and you noticed how Diluc’s gaze had suddenly softened.

“I…apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” He mumbled.

You felt your ire begin to fade as well. Today hadn’t been a good day, and you had taken all your anger out on him, which was truly not fair. You bit your lip and glanced back up at him.

“Diluc…I’m-”

Before you could apologize, however, you heard a pair of footsteps behind you. You nudged his shoulder.

“What?” Diluc asked, clearly not focused.

“Hide you idiot!” You whispered, before pushing him towards a tree. Diluc, though, wasn’t prepared for it and stumbled backwards, dragging you with him.

His back hit the trunk of the tree and he grunted, but he made sure to place his hands on your hip to steady your fall.

The two of you glanced at each other anxiously, waiting for the footsteps to recede.

You were currently straddling him, hands placed besides his head, caging him in, his hands still gripping your waist.

The footsteps stopped and you shared a glance.

“Are they gone?” He whispered.

You shrugged and tried to move a bit to the side, making Diluc yelp.

You groaned. “What?”

Diluc covered his mouth. “Don’t move.” He ordered.

You rolled your eyes, before continuing to try and move to the side.

“I’m serious.” He hissed, squeezing your hips as a warning.

“Why? We need to make sure whatever it was is gone and I clearly cannot see from here, there’s a big tree in the way.”

“Then let’s just wait it out for a few minutes.”

“Ugh, why are you being so persistent with this! If we don’t know what’s out there we won’t be prepared if it attacks.” You kept moving.

“Seriously you- listen if you keep moving like that then- ngh!” Diluc gasped as you broke out of his grip and moved, before stopping in your tracks.

Did he just…moan?

You looked down at him, face flushed and eyes glassy, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s why I said not to…move.” He whispered.

Underneath you, you felt something poking your inner thigh and that’s when you realized-

He was hard.

Oh now things got interesting.

Stealing a glance towards him, you tried to move your hips once again.

Oh, how would people react if they knew that you had made Diluc- the Diluc react in such a way?

Besides, it could be a bit of a payback, for ruining your bag and making you lose your commission.

You could just tease him a little bit.

“W-what, what are you doing?” Diluc asked, eyes as wide as plates and face as red as his hair.

You moved your hips a bit more. “Just trying to check if there are monsters nearby.” You lied.

Diluc looked at you. “But you already- mmngh!”

Jackpot.

You felt a knot in your stomach, hearing him moan like that, eyes glassy, face flushed with his length half hard against you.

You grinded down with more force this time, wanting to hear him again.

“Y-you!” Diluc moaned, leaning his head back on the trunk. His grip on your hip had become weaker, giving you more freedom to move against him.

You leaned closer and pressed your lips close to his ear. “If you don’t want this you can shove me off right now. But if not I’m going to continue, alright?”

You looked back at him, expectantly. He blinked in surprise before grabbing your hips once again and motioning for you to keep grinding on him.

Smirking, you began once again pressing against him, making him groan in pleasure.

You wanted to hear even more.

Stopping, you moved your hands down, tracing his collarbone, his chest, his muscles, all visible thanks to the wet shirt. Your hand reached his pants and he gasped as you undid his belt.

“W-wait- ahh!” He thrust his hips forward as soon as you made contact with his length, still covered by his underwear.

You looked at him for any sign of discomfort, and then continued to place your hand underneath his underwear, finally touching him with no clothes in the way.

Diluc moaned as you moved your hand up and down his length, already wet with precum. You began kissing his neck, your hand coming up to touch his chest, before gently pinching his nipple.

He yelped, looking at you in surprise as you kept pinching and moving and kissing.

“N-not there- ah! It’s…mhm, so good.” He bit his lips, trying to keep quiet.

It wasn’t before long when you felt him twitch beneath your hand, and Diluc whined. “I’m so close…”

You immediately stopped your hand.

Diluc whined and looked up at you, face filled with confusion.

“What…?”

You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him.

“What? What’s wrong Diluc?”

His brows furrowed. “You- you know exactly what’s wrong- why did you stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Your, your hand! I- I was so close…” he sniffed and kept glaring at you.

He was pouting. How adorable.

At the look on his face you immediately wanted to continue, give him the pleasure that he craved, but at the same time you wanted to see how far you could push.

“If you tell me what you want then I’ll know what to do.” You said.

Diluc groaned.

“Now, Master Diluc, if you behave like that you won’t be able to come at all. Is that what you want?”

“No...”

You smirked. “Then tell me.” You squeezed him, making Diluc moan.

“I…want you to keep touching me like before…”

“Where?”

“D-down there…I want to come.”

You clicked your tongue. “You know Diluc if you aren’t more specific I won’t be able to do anything.”

Diluc huffed. “My dick, please, touch it. I want to come, please let me come.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Good boy.”

Squeezing him softly you sped up your pace, making Diluc a moaning mess.

“Y-yes! Like that!” He whined.

After a few minutes he gasped in pleasure as he finally became undone beneath you.

The two of you panted heavily, still feeling hot and flustered, with Diluc coming down from his orgasm.

After a few minutes, you felt him harden once again.

You looked at him in surprise. “You…”

He wanted more.

And who were you to deny him?

Chuckling, you made yourself more comfortable before taking off your pants and underwear. Diluc looked at you in surprise before you made the motion to tug his pants down. He helped you take his pants off and gulped.

Noticing how nervous he was, you cupped his cheek and kissed him.

The two of you kissed softly, Diluc moving shyly, his hand barely caressing your back.

He pulled back and looked at you, licking his lips. Cupping your neck, he roughly pulled you down and slammed his lips against yours, kissing you desperately.

Your kisses became rough, your tongues pushing against each other, battling for dominance. The two of you pulled back gasping for air, before quickly feeling his lips against yours once again.

While you kissed you touched your sex, already wet with anticipation. Diluc was by no means small, so you tried to prepare before taking his length and slowly guiding him towards your entrance.

His eyes were filled with lust, and you could tell he wanted desperately to have you wrapped around him.

A small idea popped in your head at that moment, and you smirked mischievously.

You moved his tip towards your entrance and pressed softly, before letting it slip out.

You did it again, and Diluc pushed you to look at him, an angry look on his face.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You looked down innocently. “It’s too wet to go in.” You pressed the tip once again, making Diluc suck in a breath, before slipping it out.

You chuckled at Diluc’s betrayed expression. “Fine, fine, I’m just kidding, now I’ll- aghh!”

You gasped as Diluc turned you around, placing his hand beneath your head so you wouldn’t hit the floor. Your eyes widened as Diluc’s expression became more determined.

“I don’t have any patience left to put up with your teasing.” He growled.

You gulped. “Diluc I was only kidding- just slow down.”

“I already told you I don’t have any patience left.”

With that Diluc moved his length towards your entrance. Then he immediately slammed his hips against yours, filling you to the brim. You moaned in pleasure, and Diluc nipped your ear.

“I want to hear you more.” He grunted. He began thrusting at a slow pace, quickening his pace every time he thrust in.

The two of you let out moans of pleasure at his movements.

Diluc moved down to kiss you and pulled back to moan as you pulled at his hair, undoing his ponytail.

He gently nipped at your shoulders, your shirt’s first buttons opened for him to access your collarbone and the top of your chest.

You pulled him back in a kiss again.

“Mmmhm, you’re…so tight around me…it feels so good.” He whispered in between kisses.

“Me…too, ngh…Diluc I’m really close.”

As soon as you said that Diluc stopped his thrust. You glanced up at him, a smirk on his face.

Oh this motherfu-

“Diluc.” You groaned. No way he was doing the same thing you did to him. The bastard.

He kissed your neck. “What’s wrong?”

“Ugh, you know exactly what you’re doing! Keep going.” You ordered.

Diluc smiled against your neck. “If you don’t tell me specifically what you want I won’t be able to help you.”

This bastard.

You pushed him back, grabbing his face between your hands. “I want you to fill me to the brim and fuck me.”

Diluc’s smile disappeared, and his face immediately flushed a deep red. You smirked and placed your forehead against his.

“What? Can’t do it, pretty boy?” You teased.

Diluc gulped, but a smile found it's way to his face. “As you wish.”

You screamed in pleasure as Diluc thrusted far deeper than before raising your hips up and wrapping your legs around him.

You pushed his face down for a kiss, pulling his hair every time you felt him hit that sweet spot of yours, Diluc groaning in reply.

You felt your orgasm coming closer, and you pulled away to moan as you reached your peak, walls tightly wrapping around Diluc’s length.

He followed quickly after, pulling out and coming on your shirt.

He lowered himself on top of you, kissing you gently. You nipped his lips and ran your fingers through his red locks.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but eventually the sun began to go down, and Diluc stood up to put on his pants.

You groaned, as your personal heater left you and made you immediately shiver from the cold.

Following him, you stood up to put on your pants- only to stumble forwards. Diluc immediately caught you, blushing furiously.

“I-I’m sorry I got carried away.” He helped you lean against the tree and grabbed your things laying on the rock.

Still red, he handed you a handkerchief to clean yourself before going back to get your stuff.

You put on your pants- before noticing that your shirt was still covered with Diluc’s seed.

You felt your cheeks flush, and cleared your throat (which was a bit raspy from all the moaning) and called for Diluc’s attention.

He turned around, both of your coats in hand and raised a brow.

You pointed at your shirt. “Umm…it’s still, you know…dirty.”

Diluc almost dropped your coats. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide his blush before nodding.

“Right, sorry. Take your shirt off.”

“My, Master Diluc, want to go for another round?” You teased.

“Wha- no! I- I’m going to clean it in the river for archon’s sake.” He fumbled to speak and you giggled. This kind of look was kind of cute on him.

While he kept nagging, you unbuttoned your shirt, making him immediately stop on his tracks. Your upper body was all covered with red marks, the love bites Diluc had given you before. He looked at you before clearing his throat and looking away, the tips of his ears red.

“Alright give it to me.” He mumbled, still looking to the side, with his hand out.

You handed him

The shirt, covering your body to stop shivering. “So am I supposed to freeze to death? The sun is already going down so the shirt isn’t going to dry any time soon.”

Diluc nodded. “True...which is why I’m giving you this.” With his other hand Diluc handed you his coat.

It was far larger than yours and could cover you up quite easily. It also looked comfy as fuck.

“Are you sure?” You asked, trying to keep your voice stable, trying to hide your growing blush.

Diluc was already near the river, washing your shirt.

“Yes it’s alright. My body temperature is naturally warm, and you need it more than me.”

“O-okay. Thanks.” You said, putting on the coat, and turning away, smiling. It smelled like him and was warm.

Diluc stopped his task and smiled.

For the first time you had actually thanked him.

He tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat.

While Diluc finished washing your shirt you covered your face in your hands, the events of the evening finally coming back to you.

You had slept with Diluc Ragnvindr. THE Diluc Ragnvindr.

What would the single ladies in Mondstat think? Oh archons, what about Kaeya? You knew the two had been brothers- and while Kaeya changed his last name, they seemed to care for each other in their own way. So what would he think? Would he stop talking to you? Not that you would ever tell him but…would Diluc? What would he even say- that your relationship had gotten better?

And what is your relationship now? Were you friends? Enemies? Fuck buddies?

Oh Barbatos what if he thought he had to marry you now or something? But then would you truly mind? Could you go back to the tavern and look him in the eye, knowing that before you had him squirming under you, his dick in your hand, begging for you to let him cum?

“Hello? I said your shirt is washed now.”

You turned in surprise to see Diluc holding out his shirt to you.

“Y-yes, of course.” You grabbed the shirt, gasping as your fingers touched, before turning away and shoving it in your bag. “So uh- shall we head back now?”

Diluc stared at you in wonder, finally taking you in wearing his coat- before shaking his head and nodding. “Yes, yes we should be going home now. I- uh…”

He moved towards you and grabbed your shoulder, turning you around.

You felt your heart begin to race. Was he going to kiss you? Do you want him to kiss you? Maybe?

You closed your eyes waiting to feel his lips against yours expectantly.

But then nothing. And then you felt a pull beside you and you opened one eye to see Diluc taking something out from his coat’s pocket.

Oh.

He placed a small bag on your hand. You raised a brow and he shrugged.

“It’s to make up for the lost mora from the commission. I apologize that you lost it because of my interference. And if you are fined or anything else of the sort I shall take full responsibility.”

You looked up at Diluc. His expression was sincere, and you felt a small pang of guilt.

You placed the bag back on his hand and shook your head.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry for letting out my anger on you. While yes, you are annoying and a spoiled brat and you are quite cold sometimes- you are also a kind man with a big heart. I shouldn’t have said any of those things. And I… I don’t don’t like you.”

Diluc’s eyes widened in surprise before chuckling and placing the bag in his pocket.

Feeling brave, you moved closer towards him, got on your tiptoes, placed your hand on his chest and whispered close to his ear, “besides…what I got back there definitely made up for it.”

Pulling back you smiled at the flushed expression on Diluc’s face, leaving him speechless.

You turned around on your heel and motioned for him to follow you.

“Now let’s go. I’m dying of hunger.”

Diluc stood dumbfounded for a few seconds before shaking his head, a small smile on his face, before catching up with you.

“Can you not think of food for five seconds?” He teased

“Shut it mister.”

And so the walk home had the two of you back to normal- in a way. You teased him and annoyed him, and he bit back- but there was also a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn.

When you finally made it home to Mondstat it was about 6pm.

You wanted to laugh at the grief stricken and scandalous look Donna gave you watching you come in not only with Diluc by your side, but wearing his cloak. You received similar stares from various people in town but tried to pay it no mind as Diluc walked you home.

“You didn’t have to come all this way yknow. I’m a pretty strong girl, you don’t need to protect me from any ‘bad guys’ or whatever”

Diluc chuckled. “It’s not that I’m protecting you, I’m more trying to protect them from you.”

You scoffed indignantly but let out a small chuckle. “Right. Well thanks. Again. And…sorry. Again. You’re a pretty ok guy sometimes.”

Diluc raised a brow. “Only sometimes?”

“Take it or leave it, pretty boy, it’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ll get from me.”

That was the first time you’d heard him laugh, and oh what a beautiful sound it was. You wanted to make hear it more, to have him look at you like that more.

As his laughter died down he cleared his throat.

“Alright, thank you. I…” his cheeks reddened a bit. “Look, I…about what happened-”

“Well if it isn’t my two favorite people!” A melodic voice called from down the street before walking closer.

“Kaeya” both of you said with an annoyed voice at the same time.

You shared a glance with Diluc, who had the ghost of a smile, before the Cavalry Captain appeared and wrapped his arms around you.

“Now what are you doing here with my dear brother hmm? I barely saw you at all today- I was really lonely you know?” Kaeya leaned his cheek against yours, making a fake pouty face.

You chuckled and gently pushed him away, but he came right back. “I got stuck doing a commission, sorry.

Kaeya opened his eye to look at Diluc, who was crossing his arms and glaring at him and how close he was pressing against you.

“Well, that doesn’t explain why you have Master Diluc’s coat. Hey, how come you let her borrow it, whenever I ask you, you coldly reject me.” Kaeya placed a hand in his heart. Oh that drama king.

Diluc scoffed, and Kaeya’s smirk got even bigger.

“Y'know princess,” he said,calling you by the nickname he one day gave you. Though he didn’t use it frequently, this time it did make you a bit confused. “consider yourself quite special. Diluc barely lets the maids at the winery touch his coat, so the fact you get you get to wear it is quite an honor~”

“Kaeya.” Diluc glared. “Shouldn’t you be getting drunk at the cavern right now?”

Kaeya laughed. “My, what a way to change the subject. To answer your question, yes, however I didn’t want to go without my favorite drinking companion over here. But now that we are all together we should head there.”

You pulled away from Kaeya and shook your head.

“Sorry Kae, today has been all over the place and I am quite worn out.” You tried your best to not blush.

You were not going to the tavern, firstly because well, Diluc would be there and you couldn’t trust yourself enough not to get drunk and start flirting with him suddenly.

Secondly you felt like your legs were about to collapse. The two of you had to walk quite a bit, and thanks to Diluc that was not easy. You really just wanted to shower, lay down and sleep.

Diluc broke from his staredown with Kaeya to look at you. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?

You shook your head and smiled. “I’m fine, thank you.” The two of you looked at each other, Diluc’s face softened and a look of fondness flashing on his eyes.

“Pfft, since when are the two of you so chummy?” Kaeya asked, glancing between the two of you.

You both blushed, stuttering, and you quickly turned around to open your door. “Well I’m going now, bye Diluc, bye Kae!”

And with that you closed the door.

.

.

.

Diluc stared at the closed door before sighing and looking at his younger brother.

“What?” He asked, his cold expression returning.

Kaeya chuckled and turned around to walk towards the tavern. “Nothing. I just find this new series of events very…interesting.”

Diluc groaned following Kaeya. “Shut up...also, Kae…?” He asked. He didn’t fail to notice the nickname basis the two of you were o with each other.

Kaeya raised a brow. “Jealous?”

“Wha-no I don’t- ugh you’re not allowed into the tavern tonight.” He grumbled, stomping towards Angel’s Share with a laughing Kaeya behind.

[wanderrlust0]

:s

im home now and im glad me and him got high today bc i dont think i wouldve been able to be okay emotionally and pretend like everythings good. i just read my last journal post and i just started crying. like i gave him till the very last minute to say i love you to me and he didnt so i whispered it as i got ready to get out of the car and he then whispered it back. like, he wasnt gonna say it if i hadnt said it. he just said it bc i said it but i can tell it was like empty words like wtf i feel like he doesnt really love me anymore rn and ive done absolutely nothing wrong like its unfair and im tired of it. he hasnt been himself since tuesday. first he wasnt himself when i saw him sunday. then i forced him to talk about it a little. then he was good monday, saying good morning, goodnight, using :3 a lot. then tuesday he just went back to the dryness and sounding uninterested. stopped saying goodnight and goodmorning to me. its now thursday (technically) we hung out. i texted in caps goodmorning bc he again just started saying stuff. i feel like he was only okay today bc he was high. he was touching me a lot but mostly my ass bc i wore a skirt. i didnt mind it ofc but i did sorta feel like he was mostly touching me in a sexual way and less romantic way. he is so fixated on my friend who he doesnt like and thinks id cheat with. bunny stop being insecure..honestly. i feel like its def that and his inability to fully trust me is what the main problem is. like he was barely loving meD: i can tellll when he genuinely does bc he shows it but today and these past few days just felt so casual and not full of effort. like why the fuck am i really crying right now like idk how im feeling bc im like ofc hurt and im confused and tired and annoyed and upset and sad and it feels less fun. i always end up doing most of the talking when hes like this bc itll make me so uncomfortable to sit in silence. like theres a good silence and a weird silence. i used the bathroom and left my phone on the table. ik he most likely scrolled thru my notifications. like im sure he def did. he was standing right there. even tho it was locked and he cant see the details of the notifs ik i have nothing to hide. the thing is how long is it gonna take for him to have some faith in me and stop doubting me and treating me like im a copy of everyones past mistakes. i think now im really actually not gonna act like things dont affect me and show more dryness or annoyance or distance. whatever i feel towards him ill reciprocate or stop pretending like its nothing. he didnt answer my text where i sent him a video that i thought was cute and funny and i wanted him to see it too. no acknowledgement from that. he hasnt sent me an ig reel in days. he stopped saying goodnight and goodmorning. he did now. the edible made him happier today and same with me. we drank and it made us both sleepy. idk what hes feeling towards me. he doesnt really share everything bc he thinks that it doesnt make a diff if we talk about it or not bc he feels like nothing will change and its pointless. i obviously disagree and i feel like we def have to talk, whether itll make a diff or not. it will do something. itll help us understand each other more. itll help us see things in a diff perspective. itll help us clear the air and get rid of the elephant thats lowkey in the room. i wish he wasnt so insecure in times like these. i wish he was more confident with himself. i wish he would really just love me unconditionally and not question our love. i wish i didnt have to tiptoe around the topic of my friend. i wish hed pay attention to whats in front of him and realize how great we can be. hes like a part of me now and i cant see myself without him and i desperatelyy wish hed just understand thatD; im trying and doing my best. i love him to pieces, but if i feel that hes losing interest, it makes me lose interest and i emotionally feel less of a connection to who he is. its like i love him and want him close by but his energy isnt the same person and i miss him againnn. hes back to caring less

[qourmet]

it's weird tho right

cos i don't see the wen siblings the same way i do the jiang siblings despite them having relatively parallel relationships to wei ying

where jiang yanli always felt like she was an infallible presence via wei ying's perspective, wen qing actually felt like a big sibling. both of them took care of him & towards both of them he felt indebted & both of them made sacrifices for him that utterly shattered his heart but ? idk maybe it was the shotgun-speed, the near-whiplash feeling that he spent with the wens that does it for me

that as a man in his late teens early 20s he was less prone to putting the wens on a pedestal and idolizing them, that their extended family treated him like shit while the inner family treated him like, well, family, & ig u can say the opposite is true for the jiangs. that all the outer disciples & yunmeng jiang as a whole treated him like a little rascal to be endeared & loved, & yanli & fengmian would be the exception but ziyuan & cheng were two people in his innermost circle that he had in his most formidable & vulnerable years that just

idk resented is the wrong word for it. like jiang cheng was a product of his environment in Too Many Ways & that just came back to be something to metaphorically stab wei ying with. the envy, the resentment, but the idea that he'd been focusing and meditating and was protected from a Very Early Age that half of the reason Wei Ying was liable to being the founder of demonic cultivation despite having a more positive outlook on life and less outward-facing animosity was cos he Didn't grow up with that level of protection.

meanwhile wen ning was the opposite of cheng in that he went way too far out of his way to use honorifics and shamelessly help wei ying for One selfless act, & while it drove wei ying to some amount of annoyance, the difference in attitude between the two is so night & day. like you can make the argument that wen qing is closer to jiang cheng in terms of dynamics towards wei ying but like her brother, there's nothing left for her to lose. not pride, not social standing, not political relations, & jiang cheng was Too Prideful & would have benefited from keeping Wei Ying close but decided to put him at an arms length cos he couldn't stand being compared to his martial brother. man jgy was Right LMAO jc is stupid for that by a Lot

having wei ying be the main character makes it so that wen ning's idolizing of him is just a cute socially awkward quirk, like he doesn't even call him xiong he calls him gongzi, while wei ying's idolization of jiang yanli is so filtered through a need to do right by her, yanno? there's a psychological barrier that he has against the jiang family, of Wanting to belong but Knowing that his status and relationship with them will forever keep them at an arm's length while the wen family are socially in a similar situation and there's nothing to gain or lose by associating with each other. titles and bloodlines and origins aren't barriers to divide one man from people that he would call home, they just exist to survive one storm after another together

[chanrizard]

I see nothing 🫡 but damn that sucks I feel you on the dress thing idk like I don’t even mind long skirts or anything but dresses for some reason put me off 😭 I wish you all the luck in finding an outfit that will not have you baking in heat 🙏🏼🫡

and hhhh 🥺🥺 I’m good I’m good, it’s been kind of an interesting week ig?? not too much happened but like my emotions have been kinda all over the place lol just like one minute I’m feeling productive the next I’m exhausted and then right after I’m annoyed BUT THEN I’m tired LOLOL 😂😂😂

and yeah! I did draw a lot and I’m happy about that I’ve been concpet designing for some characters to help fill up the world I’m building ^^ so that was fun and I drew some fun pride month stuff too that I posted on my art blog hehe (I’m just glad I could get them done before the end of the month 👏🏼👏🏼)

channelling my inner proud lino to tell you "applause for the jagi that drew amazing stuff and had so much fun doing it!" i hope your next week will be just as interesting as this one but with way less tiredness/annoyance 💜💜 remember that ilu and to drink lots and lots of water, mmwah!

[oxygenbefore1775]

If This Feeling Flows Both Ways

pairing: Reiner x Jean

tags: mid second timeskip, confessions, a tiny drop of angst, sensual smut, porn w/plot Ig

cw: maybe some unrealistic male physiology, power-bottom!Jean and subby-top!Reiner, oral, bodily fluids (spit and cum), slight expectorating (maybe icky to someone) pillow talk if you squint

wc: 2,1k

summary: Reiner's wooing of Jean finally paid off when one night he decided to reciprocate the feelings.

a/n: currently havin' reijean brainrot

"Jean," Reiner's voice pierces through the silence in the room.

Jean shrugs his shoulder, his undivided attention dedicated to the writing in front of him.

"Uh-huh," his tone fails to conceal the annoyance at having to prepare the speech at such late hour. "Can you help me out here? What am I supposed to write right here?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean can see Reiner scooting closer while having a look at a line being pointed out to him. After a brief moment of pondering, Reiner voices his suggestion which — to Jean's relief and delight — seems to fit perfectly into the word canvas.

Since Armin's begun pairing them together for their duties as the ambassadors of piece, Jean and Reiner have been spending more time in each other's company in comparison to the other Alliance members. Although unaware of Reiner's stance regarding this partnership, Jean couldn't be more happy about the match. With how busy and demanding their job can get, Reiner has been the only one able to put up with his excessive obstinacy and harsh opinions on the better way of work. Besides those merits there's another one that Jean values the most — that being his skill to produce speeches with seemingly no effort. No matter the occasion or the purpose of the speech, Reiner always manages to come up with the right words, precision of which evokes emotions in even the most heartless people. Reiner, however, doesn't deem this extraordinary, chalking it up to his childhood as a Warrior Candidate when he's been writing flattering compositions laced with Marleyan propaganda on the regular basis.

Jean pats him on the back as the sign of gratitude, his hand reaching for a pen to make the proposed corrections.

"This should do it," he announces and blows on the paper to dry the ink. "If Armin decides to veto this draft as well, I will lose my mind right then"

Out of the two of them, it's Jean's speeches that Armin always has a problem with. With five drafts already rejected and the day of the event creeping up on them, Jean's resorted to writing at night. Throughout this challenge of Kirstein's eloquence, Reiner's been sharing his nocturnal lifestyle, ready to help — be it choice of words or mug of coffee. Sure, Braun has a lot of free time since he's written a perfect speech on his first try (did anyone expect anything less?). And still he opts for spending his time like this: confined to the armchair the entire night, occasionally lending a sympathetic ear to nagging Jean. Perhaps it's a partner-thing-to-do, Kirstein assumes.

"You were saying?" Jean looks up at Reiner, finally putting the draft aside.

"I was wondering," he sounds a tad unsure, "What do you want to do when we will be done with the diplomatic mission?"

Jean can't help but to chuckle bitterly at Reiner's words.

"When? It's if. If we will be done with all of this at all," he leans back against the couch, a sigh escaping his lips. "It'll take years for them to start treating us seriously. Now we're merely a menagerie for them, a pack of exotic animals to look at"

Reiner nods in accord, his body tensing up at Jean's harsh words.

"Every time we visit yet another city, it's not the diplomats and ambassadors of peace trying to mend international relations. It's former Titans and Island bumpkins"

"Yes, I remember some journalist asking me if I still could transform into the Armor," the corners of Reiner's lips curve into a faint smirk.

As the memory of that event emerges at the surface of his mind, Jean cackles, more annoyed than amused. Were Jean at Reiner's place, he'd reply with a cheeky remark instead of being at the loss of words and smiling in confusion — just like Reiner did that day.

"I'd like to go home," Jean says with a sudden softness to his voice, returning to Reiner's question, "More than anything. Start a family there"

If someone — Jean can't find it in his heart to say the name — will have him.

Reiner sighs with a downcast look on his face. After a moment of silence his body starts leaning forward so that his gaze is on Jean's features.

"To be honest, I wish this diplomatic mission wouldn't end at all," his tone is quiet and shy, as if confessing a cherished secret.

His words are met with Jean's sceptic look. Reiner's dedicaion to their cause — although admirable to some extent — continues to baffle Jean.

"You take pleasure in wandering the world?"

As soon as the question escapes his lips, he can see blood rushing to Reiner's cheeks. He himself must have felt this, bringing a hand to his face. Such a rare sight to see, Jean notes to himself, solely alcohol can bring Reiner to such state.

The pillows of the couch collapsing under Reiner's weight as he moves closer to Jean, their eyes interlock.

"I take pleasure in being together with you"

In the next moment Reiner leans forward, his lips pressing against Jean's — the impact of his advance sending them both down on the cushions. Air escapes Jean's lungs as he groans, having been pinned down. Reiner is quick to pull away from the superficial kiss — pupils dilated, breath heavy — only to plant another one in the corner of the mouth.

"You... Fuck," Jean is overwhelmed at Reiner's sudden fit of vigor.

His body is in an uncomfortable position and his neck is bent in a weird angle but Jean doesn't have it in him to register those concerns. The sole sensation is someone else's lips peppering his face with quick pecks.

Trying to keep him still, Jean places his hand on Reiner's nape and pulls him into a deep kiss.

"Jean," Reiner whimpers, his mouth still on Jean's lips, "Please tell me..."

Jean's hazed gaze is on Reiner's glazed over eyes.

"Tell me you feel the same"

His voice trembles with pleading.

What does 'the same' entail, Jean wonders. Is it lust that's burning up inside his stomach as he's laying under him? Cloying anticipation of having his skin caressed with Reiner's lips and tongue? Or does this supposed feeling go beyond the whim of satiating their thirst? Jean does feel something — there is no doubt about that — he doesn't know if he can reciprocate with the same depth.

Not keen on voicing his sentiments, Jean licks Reiner's lips, rewarding him with a smile afterwards.

"I don't want to be fucked on the couch in the common room, so I propose we go to your bedroom"

Reiner doesn't have to be told twice — his eyes flaring up like coals, he gets off of Jean and leads him to the door.

Cloaked under the darkness of the bedroom, Jean reaches for the collar of Reiner's shirt with his hands. His sight betrays him, forces him to rely solely on his sense of touch. Reiner's heavy breathing reaches his ear as his fingers make their way down the placket. Suddenly Jean feels his arms being grabbed by the wrists and lifted up — in the next moment slow hot kisses are planted on his palms and knuckles, leaving wet spots.

Freeing his hands gently in attempt not to seem rude, Jean keeps on undressing both of them. Reiner's lips still find him, pressing against the neck right where delicate skin covers a pulsating artery. It takes Jean all the crumbs of composure he has left not to tilt his head back and expose more of his skin to the caresses.

With their bodies finally robbed of covers, Jean takes a moment to run his fingers down Reiner's chest and stomach, noting how quickly and eagerly he responds to the touch. A stifled moan escapes Reiner's lips as he leans forward for a kiss — but Jean deprives him of this and pushes him on the bed instead.

"Let me handle everything," he says under his breath, getting on the bed.

Since his eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting in the room, Jean can see Reiner propping himself up on the elbows. Chest heaving rapidly, mouth half-open — he's waiting for him. Jean is almost teasing as he crawls on all fours towards him, his pace so excruciatingly slow that Reiner swears through his teeth.

Reiner lets out another gasp when he suddenly stops moving. Jean's head near Reiner's crotch, he lies down on his stomach all the while their eyes are locked on each other. In a smooth movement Jean extends his hand, his fingers wrapping around Reiner's girth — his vacant mind rids itself of any thoughts as he starts moving his fist.

"Oh fuck," the words slip out through Reiner's pursed lips.

"You like it?" this ends up sounding saccharine, the success at giving pleasure robbing the voice of any cockiness.

Jean presses his fingers around the tip, squeezing out a little bit of pre-cum and covering the shaft with pale drops. With his palm in thin suspension-like liquid, he deems it good enough of a slick to add velocity to his movements. The strokes having become more coarse and Reiner wincing at every friction, Jean is proven wrong in his assumption. In order to make up for it, he alignes his lips with Reiner's cock, opening his mouth slightly. A string of saliva tickles his tongue as it comes running down on his lower lip, dribbling on the pink tip. With viscous fluid spread along the shaft, Jean lets himself pick up the pace.

The wet sounds of spit-covered skin, the way his palm slides up and down, queit whimpers escaping Reiner's lips — all of it makes Jean's blood run to his stomach. He has never felt something like this before.

Reiner's cock glistening from pre-cum and saliva in the dim light, Jean finds it irresistible not to get a taste. As his tongue sticks out, the tip of it fluttering around the throbbing head. The light kisses planted and hot breath hitting the skin send Reiner over the edge as he squirms in an attempt to evade Jean's touches, too sensitive for them. Jean, however, is quick to wrap one of his arms around Reiner's thigh pinning him down to one place. A mischievious gaze that Reiner gets rewarded with clearly signalizes Jean's intention to keep the sweet torture going.

Out of breath, Reiner collapses back onto the pillows. Carte blanche granted — he smiles as his tongue wets the shaft all the way from bottom to top and the brim of his lips closes around the tip.

"You're so good," Reiner's voice is laced with softness that is not fit for such moment.

It's about to get better, Jean thinks to himself, an idea forming at the back of his head. Slacking his jaw open, he puts Reiner's entire length inside his mouth in one rapid thrust. The head of the cock reaches Jean's larynx, hitting the back of his throat with force.

Taken by surprise, he feels the walls of his throat squeezing around Reiner's girth — tears stinging his eyes. It doesn't help that Reiner, stimulated with pressure, arches his back and starts bucking his hips at a broken pace, slamming into Jean's mouth. He jerks his head away. After a moment of catching his breath, Jean goes into a coughing fit, rubbing his neck in a soothing gesture. The sore walls of his throat are constricting as the coughs expell pale clots that Jean catches with his hand.

"Did you just—" the opportunity to voice his dismay gets taken away from him when Jean feels being taken by his arms and pulled closer to Reiner's chest.

"My bad."

Reiner lifts his face by the chin, his fogged gaze sliding over Jean's features as if to inspect the damages he has left. Thumb brushing against Jean's puffy lower lip, Reiner leaves a kiss there as a consolation.

"I didn't expect you to go ahead and deepthroat my cock," he laughs when Jean rolls his eyes in annoyance, "You were really good for your first time"

Blood rushes to Jean's cheeks since he is unable to refute this words.

"What about you?" Reiner runs his fingers down Jean's sweat-covered chest "I don't want you to be left out"

"No," his voice sounds almost whiny as he rests his head on Reiner's shoulder, his hair all ruffled up. "The sun is rising already and my body hurts. I'll get my share next time"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean can see Reiner turn to him, holding his breath.

"Next time?"

"Sure, you thought this would be a one-time thing?" Jean's lips curl into a smile.

Reiner turns back away, the look on his face betrays his excitement.

"When are we going to tell them?" Reiner asks innocently.

Jean scoffs at the question.

"They already know. Your affection is so obvious."

(I guess I'm writing smut now)

[ronance4everbrainrot]

Here again the post you should be reading, if you haven't yet from @corgiplays

but well this is gonna be short... Well at least not long.. well not as long as usually..but still long ig

and I just wanted to talk about their dynamic from Ronance before S4 and how it plays into S4 in the

Murray adopting Robin AU

so if didn't see my last post about this, here

So Robin basically is her lovely sarcastic self more with Nancy and always calls her Wheeler

And Nancy is also very sarcastic and acts less mature (like sticking out her tongue at Robin, and Robin would be like "Real mature, wheeler") and she pouts a lot...because I think it's cute. And Robin thinks so too.

In the S4 aspect of this AU

Robin basically lost Chrissy, they weren't that close, they only really had that moment from the bathroom but it's still very hard on Robin, so she acts like she does in S4 but the reason being to distract herself from thinking about Chrissy (which also kinda was a dumb idea because she has to read the death cause on the newspapers so it's kinda a reminder) but she also wants revenge for Chrissy (Honestly like Eddie ig now that I think about.. Lol)

And well when Max is a target Robin is extremely anxious as well as determined (because she blames herself for not seeing the symptoms but also just because she wants to protect Max) So the puts her whole heart into that speech (which she basically already did) and she almost breaks down when they got caught, like I feel like she would almost get a panic attack but when walk past the music room she got the idea (well her eyes didn't really focus on the room but the ears picked up the music) or idk

Robin and Nancy have a talk about the Chrissy thing at one point, or Eddie and Robin maybe

Nancy also acts like she does in S4. She is stressed (because the shit is starting again and well she lost a friend) also she still has these weird feelings for Robin (she completely just pushed the almost kiss away from her mind, a very repressed lesbian... Or bisexual idc. Very internalized Homophobia ✨🙏✨) So honestly she just claims it to be annoyance and irritation. That's why she's annoyed at Robin. (Also because she still tells herself that she likes Steve so that's why she hates seeing them together. So she is also 'jealous' of Robin)

After Robin finds the Weekly watcher, she is impressed but also remembers that Robin is actually a genius. Which make these weird feelings even worst and she thinks that she's even more jealous of Robin because she's beautiful AND smart. But when that moment comes when Robin find the Creel thing. Nancy just gets mesmerized by her eyes (that she could drown in) and remembers that moment from the bathroom and she just can't accept it (internalized Homophobia✨ 🙏✨) So at first she tries to act nice and like nothing has changed.

But well after their make over before visiting Viktor, they almost kiss.. Well Robin had her eyes closed because Nancy was doing her makeup (idk how make-up works lmao) and then Nancy just stares at her lips thinking about kissing them but also well thinking it's wrong (also Robin having no idea) which is why she acts annoyed again when they arrive there, because of self-loathing.

Idk when she finally acceptes it. Maybe after the gets Vecna'd and it shows her both Barb at first and then Robin (Venca being an Ally helping her accept herself lmao)

Also um she definitely will not confess, I did say they'll get Murray'd

...omg....Vecna'd and Murray'd...😭✨😂🙏✨

Anyway. I did say that,

Murray helps Robin with her confidence and to get her to ask Nancy out.

While he helps Nancy be more open about her feelings...also in generale ig...

Also come out as gay to her (Gay Murray rights... Well aroace gay Murray rights 🙌✨) to show her she's not alone. (she has her suspicion about Mike and Will tho 👀) and she still thinks Robin and Steve are dating....

Until Robin finally comes out as a Lesbian.... And then they kiss.... No idk... But well it's still a work in progress on the S4 thing...

So I've already mentioned some things here somewhere else.

And uh... Oh! Tiny bonus:

Like Eddie did, Robin will also say "This is for you, Chrissy" when throwing her Molotov Cocktail.

....I'm gonna make myself cry 😭 help🙏

Anyway.. Lots of love 🥺✨🙏💕😔

Also does this explain their dynamic?... I mean just the way the act around each other...actually I do t think so... Well here a tiny summary

Before S4 they make fun of each other a bit and push each other or smth

In S4 they are like they are in the show (just the meaning behind their actions changing)

After S4 (if it goes as canon) I don't know yet, I mean Robin definitely blames herself for a few days but then says it's Venca's or Jason's fault (which it is to both) and idk about Nancy. And I'm too lazy to think rn. I'm too tired.

So

Lots of love again 😪✨💕🙌✨

[mhagun]

Gui npc doctor emo *sad emoji* hcs

Gui general hcs…★!

  ☆  Why do I feel like he’s in a constant state of perpetual annoyance ? Like , actually .

 ☆ After a while of person after person turning up readily expecting medicine when it was been made very clear that you need a doctors prescription , the job eventually gets pretty bothersome , which means that if he ’ s going to be dating anyone at any time , you ’ d need to be the one to ask him out . He just doesn’t have enough time or energy to ask someone out , much less develop a crush .

 ☆  Has probably successfully asked you out bcs in his mind it's not that hard ig . He ended up taking you back to his place for food and then took you home . Gives you a casual kiss on the cheek goodbye at your doorstep and then just ... disappeared ??? Like one second he was there and the next he was not lmao .

 ☆  REALLY quiet when it comes to working , only saying things he needs to say for his job . He does loosen up outside of work hours , so it ’ s the best time to try and build a relationship with him , but he’s still pretty abrasive lmao ( treat him like a stardew valley dateable lol ) .

 ☆ Baizhu would definitely try to set you two up . Kinda like a mom getting excited when her son mentions that there's a girl that he hangs out with . Didn ’ t introduce you two but most likely encouraged the relationship between you two ; he gives gui gift suggestions for certain holidays , does his best to get you both into a scenario ( one bed gui hcs ???? jkjk …… unless .. ) where you could spend more quality time alone .

 ☆ I feel like he would be very , like , nonchalant about first realizing he had a crush . Like , ‘ oh dam , im rlly in love huh ? ’ Not all too excited , but at the same time he ’ s not opposed to the feeling . He becomes friendlier overtime , but he still gets easily irritated with you , just like he does with everyone else . Sometimes he can also be a little harsh on himself , and it got a lot worse when he took a liking to you . He gets frustrated trying to pick out gifts ( which rlly just boil down to ‘ Qingxin or violet grass ? ’ ) , he sometimes gets really flustered if he notices that you remembered some miscellaneous fact that he mentioned a while back , just general “ first state of crushing ” stuff .

 ☆  If you want him to return your feelings , then the best way is to ask him outright . In short , you ’ ve gotta confess . Since , like I ’ ve stated before , he can be hard on himself but it ’ s an entirely different story when it comes to the embarrassment of rejection . But safe to say that once you ask him about his feelings towards you after telling him about yours , he ’ s all over you .  

☆ He loves initiating dates and different displays of affection , he just finds it rlly nice . He ’ ll occasionally take you to Xinyue Kiosk or Liuli Pavilion for dates , but most others consist of quietly walking around Liyue Harbor after his shift at Bubu pharmacy ends . He wants to go walking around Liyue ' s country with you so badly , but as he says ‘ I just don't wanna get jumped while i'm picking flowers for you . ’

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind. 

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer. 

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.  

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.” 

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.  

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear. 

No. 

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart. 

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying. 

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?” 

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”  

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason. 

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,��� Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him. 

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine. 

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

----------------

Yeesh. That one was a lot. 

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

OH MY GOD THE ANON WHO TALKED ABOUT HEIGHT I FEEL THAT SO MUCH

It's gotten to a point where sometimes i legit drop the fic if there's too much emphasis on it bc even if I'm not particularly tall (just average height) I'm still not that short??? (It's even worse in JP fics, I'm in pain every day)

imo it's the worst bc like. 99% of the time it literally has no influence on the story or anything, so i just wish ppl paid more attention and left it out

Then again IG being inclusive generally has been a big point of debate for a long long time and thankfully ppl have gotten much better about it (and generally writing gn stuff and such, i remember not all that long ago that just wasn't a thing and while the average reader-insert is still, like, short female(-coded w skirts etc)/AFAB, white and has at least shoulder-length hair (sth which i also never noticed until 4 years ago when i cut my hair so short you can't "put it up" anymore, braid it etc) it's at least much less egregious and a lot of ppl are explicitly trying to make it inclusive for everyone

And also way more variety in personality

...i feel like some fandom historian writing an essay her I'm so sorry i legit just wanted to be like "me too!" but ig i truly cannot ever shut up

- timezone neighbour

(as usual, hope u have been well!! I might possibly make some last TR comment when the last chapter is out but I've just gotten to the point where i have no love and just lots of bitterness and only thinking of reading the new chapters makes me want to set my laptop on fire instead LMAO but i hate leaving things unfinished so I'll probably read it in one go once everything is out, if only to lament what could have been. Regardless, i really hope you'll keep the blog up after its end too bc you're always such a wonderful presence on my dash 🥰)

It's alright, it's interesting to get different perspectives on these things! It really does sound like a big annoyance too. I actually get the thing with short hair! A while ago I had mine super short too and used get annoyed by all the long haired reader fics.

[rai-jin-andro-jin]

Finally Reading LOTR.

will journal my thoughts accordingly in my now-semi-absorbed Tolkien narrative style + my own:

I just sat crosslegged on my bed crocheting for like 4 hours, listening to the audiobook for LOTR.

As the ATLA meme would suggest, age hasn't taken my bending away, but my unbending — my unfolding if you will. Ugh.

Idk why, maybe it's just me, but LOTR feels a lot more sad in tone in these first couple chapters than the Hobbit ever was. Maybe the Hobbit could be desolate at times, but it always seemed to have a destination and some kind of action (I've read the Hobbit like three (3) times now). But oh my good gods: Frodo, Sam and Pippin have been gone from the shire for not even a whole day and it feels like it's been an entire week. The prose is dragging on, and i just stopped listening after their breakfast, and now in my head, they're stuck in those clammy 10am woods. Tolkien has such a knack for describing exceedingly wonderful environments, and exceedingly less wonderful environments. So fucking depressing sometimes lol. And this is not even the most depressing part of any of this story at all.

I think the sadness comes a lot from Bilbo leaving and Frodo being constantly sad and longing about it too. Like, girl, i get it, u grew up w him as nearly a father and shit, but also, oh my god, pls you are killing me w this melancholy.

I swear to god there was definitely suffering and annoyance and misery and homesickness in the Hobbit (aka There and Back Again), but i swear, Frodo is being no bit fucking Tookish at all and is like, longingly waving bye to the shire at every point, dramatically thinking or saying, "I wonder if I'll ever see this place again." We know, Frodo; you're only on a massive three-book quest to destroy the One Ring that was forged by the great Sauron Himself, clearly that's a heavy backpack burden to carry and all, but could you lighten up a little bit? Just a little? Maybe? No? Cool.

Some Bonus Meme Content for those who have read this far:

Frodo: hey Gandalf it's been 9 years what's up

Gandalf: *drops the entire fucking backstory of the Ring and doom of the world on a relatively young hobbit*

Frodo: welp time to die ig

Sam: did somebody say "elves?"

Gandalf: absolutely i did, my boy

[blazedgraysons]

This is definitely Grayson seven months into your pregnancy.

It had been a long day for him, having hosted your baby shower earlier that day. He had ran around all morning, entertaining both your family and friends while making sure you were comfortable as you enter your third trimester. It was a happy occasion, being able to celebrate something the two of you had wanted for so long. However, as the day went on, his bed continued to call his name, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep after the main event was over. Slowly though, his dreams were interrupted by soft whispers and a persistent poke at his arm.

“Gray.” You whisper, scared of waking what feels like a sleeping bear. He snores in response.

“Bailey.” You whisper louder, swatting his chest. He turns away from you, and you sit up fully. Annoyed now, you hit his arm repeatedly.

“Grayson, wake the fuck up.” You hiss, watching as he slowly wakes up.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He slurs, grabbing your stomach.

“Baby’s fine. I just really want ice cream. Can we go to Monty’s real quick?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes in hopes of appealing to him. He groans, rolling his eyes as he lays back down.

“Angel, it’s like midnight. Don’t we have Ben and Jerry’s in the fridge? We can get Monty’s tomorrow.” He compromises, exhaustion weighing over him. Even though Grayson would move literal mountains for you and your two’s future child, getting out of bed was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now.

“It’s not me; it’s the baby. And the baby wants Monty’s.” You complain, pointing at your stomach where the baby was kicking ferociously. You know it was selfish to wake him up this late, and a dick move to blame it on the baby. However you’re not going back to bed until the kicking stops, and if that means a midnight Monty’s run, so be it.

“Can’t you just go?” Grayson whines, already just wanting to end this conversation so he can go back to sleep. You look back at him comically before gesturing at your obnoxiously large stomach.

“I can’t drive, asshole. I promise it’ll take five minutes.” You assure. You’re met with silence, and it’s only a few minutes before soft snores fill the bedroom again. You take your pillow and lightly hit him on the chest.

“Y/N!” Grayson groans.

“Grayson.” You mock. You both stare at each other, waiting for the other one to surrender. Luckily, you’re just as stubborn as he is and watch as he mentally concedes to your wishes.

“Five minutes?” He confirms, grabbing a sweatshirt to throw on.

“Maybe ten.” He glares at you for that. “You know there’s always a line, but I’ll be quick, promise.” You hold out a pinky towards him, hoping this will appease his grouchy mood. He rolls his eyes for the nth time that night but ultimately links his pinky with yours.

You plant a light kiss on his cheek before hopping out of bed to get dressed yourself, mentally preparing your order.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to get there, passing the time with stories from the baby shower. You squeal in excitement as the blue building comes into view, laughing as the baby starts kicking too.

“Damn, didn’t know you liked Monty’s that much.” Grayson chuckles, turning into the parking lot.

“I don’t, but baby does. Look!” You grab his hand to place on your stomach, letting him feel. He rubs your stomach, chuckling at the way the kicks multiply at his touch.

“So, you’re the reason your mom forced me to get up.” He gets a forceful kick in response, and you move his hand slightly.

“Don’t rile him up, or else neither of us is getting to bed tonight.” You threaten, getting out of the car once Grayson turns it off.

“Like that’s not already happening,” Grayson mutters under his breath, punctuated with a loud yawn. He stretches as you lead him to the entrance, determined to finally fulfill your midnight craving.

“What do you want, amour?” You ask, humming as he wraps his arms around your stomach to stand behind you. It’s annoyingly cheesy, especially as he pulls you closer, but you feel content at the subtle form of affection.

“Salted caramel.” You nod as you move to the register and smile at the cashier.

“Two salted caramel shakes, please. Ooh, and fries. Actually, can I just get a double cheeseburger meal with salted caramel shake as a drink?” Your mind frantically changing as you continue to look over the menu.

“Y/N.” Grayson stretches out your name, annoyance dripping through. “I thought you just wanted ice cream.”

“What? I changed my mind. Plus, we’re here, so we might as well.” You shrug, handing the cash over to the cashier. You both move over to the waiting area: you distracted by the process of making milkshakes and Grayson distracted by the giant mirror.

“Don’t be too self-absorbed, amour.” You chastise jokingly, handing him his milkshake.

He shakes his head and pulls out his phone, snapping a picture of him to document your ridiculousness. Despite how annoyed he is by the lack of sleep, he does adore the silly, stupid moments like this of your pregnancy. It’s menial and sometimes means getting less sleep than he wanted, but he can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. He takes a few before selecting the one where he looks the least exhausted and uploading it to his IG story.

“Ooh, take one of me too.” You ask, holding your shake and order as you pose with him. He takes a couple, both of you laughing at the filters, and he picks his favorite as his new wallpaper before exiting.

You both walk to the car, and almost immediately you’re shoving ice cream and fries in your mouth as soon as your seated, moaning at how good it tastes.

“That good?” Grayson laughs, stealing one of your fries while you're distracted by your milkshake. You nod, eyes wide with delight.

“Thank you, amour.” You kiss his cheek again. “I promise you’ll get the best head tomorrow for this.”

And fuck, if that doesn’t make him sleep a lot better, he doesn’t know what the hell will.

[storm-in-a-tea-cup0]

An ask game!!!! I missed these!! (Actually tumblr in general) Thanks @coulson-is-an-avenger!!!

1- Why did you choose your url?

Oooh, I think I have answered this before so I will summarize the long story. My URL is a senior # that describes me. I needed one for the yearbook and when I asked my friends who were over for my 18th birthday, one of them said "Storm in a Tea Cup" cuz your hair is silver, you bark like a thunder and you're always sipping tea while giving life the judgy gaze over the cup rim. There you go.

2- Any side blogs?

Oh boy. Hm, I actually do have one, yes. @vere-anima-mea It's actually Kaia Lani's Tumblr that I created for the aesthetic of a single RP 🤣 the best thing tho is, it has a single post about a pagan ritual that every now and then is reblogged by witchy blogs and I feel...so great whenever that happens?? Cuz I did research a lot on a library to make that post?? Anyway, I think I will keep using that blog but like a diary of sorts. Or something else because the URL speaks to hidden depths of my soul.

3- How long have you been on tumblr?

Hm... Since the bored peeps started to be cryptic about their future RPs here so...late 2018/early 2019?

4- Do you have a queue tag?

Nope. I have a ginormous queue line tho. I really mean ginormous, no joke.

5- Why did you start your blog in the first place?

To get the crumbles my friends would sprinkle in their blogs about their writing.

6- Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Because that picrew is by far the one that represents what I think me in my inner mind looks like the most. She is...me but wilder, natural. She has green hair tips and a messy haircut that she tries to contain with a hairband, dorky glasses, is always smirking like she is telling you "heh, you wish" and attracts loafy birbs cuz she is a Disney Princess.

7- Why did you choose your header?

Oh, that's easy. Cuz I'm gay. Two gals holding hands in a flower field cuz they ain't straight. It helps that one of them, the one holding the hat, is a brunette like me so I guess I saw myself in it and it made me...at peace. Hopeful. Happy.

8-What’s your post with the most notes?

Don't think this applies cuz I am pretty sure any of my posts about the bored community will have the same amount of likes from my friends so.

9- How many mutuals do you have?

Listen, I am a grandma when it comes to technology so is there even a way to check this? Idk.

10- How many followers do you have?

82!!! How.

11- How many people do you follow?

153 blogs!!! Less than on IG, gotta correct that.

12- Have you ever made a shitpost?

Had to google the actual meaning of this to make sure but I don't think so. I rarely even make posts.

13- How often do you use Tumblr each day?

I don't. Currently can't even say I use it weekly, quiçá multiple times a day.

14- Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Nope. Never. I'm pro-peace always and forever. Literally. That's what I study at uni. Plus I am lazy. Fighting requires enormous amounts of energy and this girl has no time for that shite.

15- How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Hah. No. Big dislike. Have enough of people ordering my do's and don't IRL to allow that in virtual life aussi. Don't gimme that crap.

16- Do you like tag games?

Absolutely!!!!! I love all sorts of games with friends, to be honest!

17- Do you like ask games?

Refer to the previous answer. But addendum cuz just that is boring. These make me feel loved. Idk how to explain, it just feels...really really warm when friends ask about me. Even small little things.

18-Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

Moss, no doubt. They have art! Writing up on AO3! Yeah, them.

19- Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I do, yes. I'm at the acceptance stage of that crush but I feel like I will resume to the "giddy" stage whenever I think about this and them, this is so bad. As all my friends who are aware of this said, I'm way too deep already 😅 Sorry crush, you're most likely annoyed at this already. You can sigh and virtually punch me, I'll take it.

Hmm, I'll be tagging... @avatar-the-last-chicken-nugget (i am truly curious about the url but not foward enough to just send you a message, yes. Sorry. Also, Hi!!) @beneath-the-willow-tree @babyitsacrime @cloverywands @thepinkcatlady and anyone else who wants!!

[magioftheseas]

Soft Trauma

Summary: Komaeda wakes up, runs away from Hinata, but is caught by Naegi. Among other things.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Hospitalization, severe mental illness, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, some mentions of blood, just pretty messy medical stuff all around. There’s some rough kissing too Ig.

Notes: I’m pretty sure this fic was started in like...2013. 2014. It’s very, very old. I decided to finish it for kicks. Because it’s so old, dr3 just isn’t a blimp and it uses SHSL instead of Ultimate. So old. It’s Komaegi/KomaHina and very angsty. Have fun.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“Are you alright?” That person asks him, and the look Komaeda is on the end of receiving is...strange, to say the least. He wouldn’t call it particularly caring—but the concern was clear. It was...a very obscured gaze, though it almost softens when Komaeda keeps gaping at him like a lost dog. “It’s...understandable though, right? With everything that’s happened, especially to you... But it’s over now.”

“I... What?”

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” the other continues on, and the softness is gone to be replaced with his expression pinching up. Like this feeble attempt at conversation is starting to cause him pain. “I don’t know... I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Do you remember anything?”

Komaeda doesn’t immediately answer—instead staring curiously at...him. With bizarrely long locks and dull red eyes. The question he asks... Komaeda doesn’t know how to respond to it either way.

But he seems to...understand. “Right. It’s been rough. Never mind. You know what—never mind.” And annoyance sparks through his features as he almost jerks away and stops just in the middle of leaving. “You’re awake. Everyone’s awake. That’s all the matters. It’s over.”

“Over?” he echoes, and the other grits his teeth though Komaeda can’t see it.

“...Komaeda...” Komaeda flinches—because his surname sounds so dry. Like it’s something the other had been avoiding to say for a while. And though he clearly struggles with saying the rest—just Komaeda is enough to leave him near breathless—he continues. “Try and get better soon.”

Komaeda sees him walk out of the room and close the door behind him—but he doesn’t hear a thing. Was that person a ghost? With the way that person looked, it could have been a demon—but no. No, he knows that’s not what that was. Demons don’t show such care, especially for someone like him and...

--

When he remembers, he rips out his IVs and leaves the hospital room.

To where, he isn’t quite sure. He just stumbles in the direction his legs take him, holding his bandaged stump to his chest and staring at the ground all the while.

--

He’s still found, of course. But it’s not the person from before. It’s...someone else. Someone he knows but doesn’t fully remember.

“Komaeda-kun, there you are,” His sigh is relieved. Komaeda blinks the blurriness out of his eyes by the time he raises his gaze to the other approaching. Slowly. Carefully. His smile is small. Komaeda skitters back and further away. He still calls for him—but annoyance doesn’t touch his tone. Not like it would if that person—Hinata-kun—were the one to have found him. “Komaeda-kun, please. You need to get back. You’re not well.”

“How do you know that?” he asks in returns, voice too dulled to even manage surprise. “How would you know that? Who exactly are you?”

This brunet—it’s not Hinata-kun—doesn’t lose his smile for Komaeda like so many others. No, he still looks so understanding and it just makes Komaeda’s head spin more. It’s so dizzying, he might just faint and—then the other moves. And his hands are steadying Komaeda so that he doesn’t fall. Komaeda blinks a bit furiously, and for some reason, his heart is racing.

And this is familiar. He knows this feeling. He’s felt it before. He remembers that...

 “We...were in school together? We used to see each other quite a bit, right?” He remembers this—between the wretched poisonous memories of her and everything else, he remembers him. It’s fuzzy, but he recalls—though wasn’t he shorter? Softer?

He was still short. Still soft. But so bright. Was he always so bright? Wait—Komaeda picks up a few more pieces—the ones that don’t slice his fingers open and drip with his blood—and he puts them together. Back then, this person had been...

“We were almost friends,” the other says, wistfully and almost mournfully. It’s strange. He almost sounds like he regrets that almost. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. “We were in separate classes, Komaeda-kun, but I did see you every now and then. Do you remember? You...” Here he laughs, more like chuckles a bit weakly. “You were the one who cushioned my fall when I tripped on one of the staircases. I was terrified because I thought you were seriously hurt.”

Komaeda slumps a bit and he shoves the other away, stumbling back as his hand shakily goes to the scars his hair hides. The other sees and his frown deepens as he approaches him again. Like he was approaching some scared, wounded animal. And Komaeda, really...

He wants so badly to be held.

“Naegi-kun,” he says—voice blank and empty but with trembling limbs reaching for the shorter, softer other. His voice scratches against his throat, raw and painful, but he can’t stop saying his name, “Naegi-kun.”

Naegi crosses the distance with ease and wraps his arms around him, whispering sweet condolences into his ear while he has to pretend said comfort doesn’t burn him like dabs of alcohol against his wounds.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Naegi murmurs, and Komaeda freezes when he easily puts together what that is. But Naegi holds him tighter so that his pieces don’t fall apart. “It’s done. You can move forward, just like everyone else.”

Komaeda sighs; nuzzles against him as his hand and wrist press into Naegi’s back. Naegi strokes his hair like it isn’t a knotted filthy mess thick with dust. Contrarily, Naegi smells fresh and clean—and that scent is almost suffocating.

As awkward as it is with their different heights, Komaeda buries his face in Naegi’s shoulder further. For now, the warmth is enough. For now.

--

Naegi leads him back to his room by hand—like a parent guiding their child. Komaeda keeps his head down, though every so often his eyes flicker up just enough to observe the curve of Naegi’s cheek and the shape of his slightly tilted profile. He also thinks he’d like to see Naegi turn to face him completely, and then he wonders how much he’d see if he was closer...

And he winds up so disgusted with himself his head drops back down and stares hard at the ratty shoes on his feet he used to be fond of.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi asks him softly as he glares down at himself. Komaeda makes a sound of acknowledgment, but he refuses to look at the other facing him. “We’re almost there.”

He hums in response, and Naegi continues. “I was thinking... I’m going to stay with you a little longer. I’d rather not leave you alone right now, honestly.”

Komaeda’s breath catches, but he only shakily nods instead of making a comment. Naegi must notice—the way his pale trembling hand tightens around his smaller, firmer one. Komaeda doesn’t have to see his face to hear the smile in his voice. “Alright then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. And don’t worry—I’m not going to leave you unless that’s what you really need.”

You should though. You need to leave the first chance you get, Naegi-kun. I don’t need...

Komaeda can’t say that though—and the only thing keeping him from sinking is Naegi’s warm grip wrapped around him.

--

The problem isn’t the fuzzy memories of the younger SHSL Lucky Komaeda knew and then a little more... The problem is that Komaeda can’t stop thinking about Hinata.

Komaeda already tries so hard not to think about Hinata as he was in the stimulation. Hinata, who had a smile for him that disappeared as soon as it appeared—and yet he continued to approach him anyway.  Hinata tried so hard to understand even when it was clear he never would. Hinata was nothing special. Hinata was too plain, too average, and ended up far too important.

But wasn’t Naegi like that as well? Plain? Average? Far too important? But, shamefully, the main difference was...

“Komaeda-kun, I got you some water. It’s cold like you wanted.” Naegi opens the door, handing him the chilly open bottle for Komaeda’s trembling hand to take. He smiles brightly, warmly, and Komaeda wonders if the water is magnifying the blush he feels rising on his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Naegi-kun.” He really is grateful, but the revelation comes as no less of a sinking feeling of dread. Naegi’s widening smile only certifies it.

Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. But it’s not like I deserve it. Naegi-kun’s just being kind. He’s kind to everyone, no matter how awful or wretched they are. Still...

The gratitude and dread mix with something else and he begins to feel sick. Naegi responds to his thanks with a sweet comment of “it’s no problem”, but... It really is a problem. He feels sick.

He’s not going to say anything about it, though.

--

Naegi sees him and spends a lot of time with him. As much as he can. If Naegi ends up caught in something else, he still sends his wishes to Komaeda through either a letter or Kirigiri who sometimes checks up on him too. Kirigiri is nice when she relays the message but she looks at Komaeda a little too carefully—and he knows her talent far too well.

Though Kirigiri isn’t so bad to talk to—she’s good at relaying information on things Komaeda is shamefully unaware of.

“Your other classmates have been recovering well—so we don’t have to focus so much on them. Hinata-kun’s been making the process easier, too.” Komaeda nods at this, and can’t even remember if he asked for this information. Everything’s been in a blur lately. But Kirigiri continues on informingly—how his classmates have been pulling through, and how even despite the awful memories that Komaeda’s too afraid to touch, they...still manage. Somehow. Though it’s not likely going as well as it sounds.

Not that Komaeda really wants a clarification. But Kirigiri tells him anyway, and he politely listens until...

“Hinata-kun asked about you the other day.”

He freezes, one good hand clenching bone-white in the sheets as he stares down at the wrinkles bleeding through and tries to avoid looking at the bandaged stump of a wrist where his other hand used to be. After a while, he shakily asks, “W-What did he say, Kirigiri-san?”

“He asked if you would be able to leave your room anytime soon. When he should expect you to be discharged.” She reached out, smoothing the tenseness of his fist with her gloved fingers. A gesture Naegi would do. “I told him that if—when that happened, he wouldn’t have to worry. Naegi-kun would still be keeping a close eye on you, as well as the rest of the future foundation.”

Komaeda loosens his grip on the sheets, not even attempting a smile as he responds in a dull voice, “Naegi-kun really troubles himself a lot over me, as does Hinata-kun. I’d prefer it if they didn’t. But at least he won’t have to worry about it after all, right Kirigiri-san?”

“If you mean Hinata-kun, then I’m not sure about that. He still looked unsure, which makes sense. Even as I explained more thoroughly, he looked unsure.” She’s blunt in her explanations—observational and unbiased. Even if the explanation makes him feel uneasy, he appreciates that she’s so concise. “Do you want to know anything else?”

“Not really.” He’s a bit blunt himself. He gets that. “Thank you, Kirigiri-san.”

She gives him a slight smile, but it’s one that has him seize up for a moment. Because he recognizes this expression. He’s never talked to Kyouko Kirigiri before encountering her as SHSL Despair, but he knows almost instinctively that he’s seen this look. Considering who she is, it isn’t hard to figure out where.

“Is something wrong, Komaeda-kun?” The smile is gone, and she looks a little worried. Komaeda immediately shakes his head.

She’s still being kind. The last thing I should do is upset her.

“Don’t worry about it. I just... My mind went blank for a moment. Please don’t worry about it, Kirigiri-san.” He winces when he says her surname like that, and her expression doesn’t change. His heart raced with the very real possibility she saw through him anyway—but then she only nods.

“It seems we’re going to have to keep a better eye on you,” Kirigiri notes, almost sighing. “Though Naegi-kun’s optimistic about you, Komaeda-kun.”

He almost laughs at that, a smile cracking at his dry lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from SHSL Hope. I envy him—being able to retain such faith in someone like me...”

Kirigiri doesn’t say anything in response. But she takes the water by his stand and refills it. Then she rummages through the cabinets to find the appropriate medicine to take with it. Komaeda’s smile starts to fade.

“Here,” she offers, and he takes it immediately, swallowing down the pills with large gulps of the clean, cold water.

His stomach churns unpleasantly, but he thanks her politely all the same.

--

He ends up vomiting just as Naegi returns, and Naegi rubs soothing circles into his back and holding back his hair as he heaves over a trashcan. It helps because Naegi immediately shushes any self-deprecation that falls from his lips like further bile.

“We’ll get you something for nausea, Komaeda-kun.” Naegi says kindly, handing him some napkins to wipe his mouth off. Komaeda does so, and Naegi starts tugging him to get to the bathroom so that he can brush his teeth. Or maybe Naegi’s going to do that for him. The thought drags him down.

“You know,” Naegi murmurs as he helps him walk. “It’s alright to lean on me if you need it.”

Komaeda does. Though all it does is help him fall further.

No matter what medication they give him, the sickness never fades either way.

--

Things get worse when his dreamless nights disappear. He ends up dreaming a lot more than he wants—remembering things he really doesn’t want to think too much about.

His death in the stimulation comes up a lot—and it’s bizarre because he’d been resolute in the procedures. He wasn’t scared of dying, not if it was for a purpose. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—that he didn’t scream through the tape over his mouth. That he didn’t nearly choke through tears the second his lungs were filled with that poison.

That he didn’t have regrets and at the time, couldn’t stop thinking about...

...Hinata showed up in his dreams too. Hinata taking his hand as he pulled him up from the beach. Hinata fretting so much as they walked that he kept bumping shoulders with him. Hinata standing before him, looking torn with wariness and worry, and Komaeda unable to stop thinking that he might really...

Hinata with long black hair and red eyes piercing into him. Red. Red eyes. Red eyes piercing into him—red nails digging into him.

Komaeda halts his thoughts then and there and proceeds to risk overdose on sleeping pills so that he can pass out and fall into the void rather than getting dragged down there.

--

Admittedly that wasn’t the best option.

“Komaeda-kun, if you’re having trouble with sleeping, just say so!” Naegi actually looks angry—frazzled and...worried. Was he scared? It was just a few more days spent hospitalized, thankfully, and while it’s a bit disappointing, Naegi still... “Please. You have to say something when something is wrong.”

He really doesn’t understand and Naegi’s voice gets softer. “I don’t know how much you remember what happened at the academy—but I do. I don’t want it to happen again. I don’t want to see anyone go through that ever again. Especially not you—not again.”

“Naegi-kun...” His voice still sounds dead to his own ears and that just makes it worse. Naegi actually starts to shake as he reaches forward to grip Komaeda’s left wrist. His grasp is careful, wary of the bandages, and Naegi’s gaze just lowers.

“Were you having trouble with nightmares? Did you get scared?” Naegi questions these things quietly, gentle but coaxing. Komaeda feels bogged down with each soft word permeating his mind. “If you need to talk to someone, I’m here. Please. I want to help you—and I want you to want...”

I want you.

Komaeda silences him by placing a hand on his cheek, shushing him carefully, and Naegi looks eager to hear him unwind. To hear him spill everything he needs to—and Komaeda knows he’s only going to disappoint so he apologizes beforehand. “You don’t have to forgive me, Naegi-kun.”

And before Naegi can say anything else, Komaeda presses his mouth to his.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against Naegi’s slack, surprised lips before pulling away. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Naegi sucks in a breath, fights back the urge to bring his fingers to where he’d been kissed, and only smiles like he always does for Komaeda. It makes his heart hurt even more. “It’s fine. It’ll be alright, Komaeda-kun.”

There’s a tremor that goes through his body at those words. But Naegi’s perfectly willing to let it drop. He doesn’t say anything else and well, Komaeda won’t say anything, either.

Even though, if he remembers correctly, that was the first time he ever kissed someone. And to think, it was something he used to dream about a lot about. Having someone he would kiss—kissing Naegi in particular. Something he once accepted as an event that would never happen.

Disgusting.

--

The day Naegi insists he gets up and walks around to stretch his legs is the one he wants to stay in bed the most. But only because otherwise, he really doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t risk having to perhaps encounter his old classmates. It’s cowardly, of course, but he can’t...

He gives in but refuses to use a crutch so Naegi sticks by just a bit closer. He would have been with him anyway—no one trusts him, after all. It’s fine, as awful as it is, Komaeda likes that Naegi’s there. He’s a good stable point after all. SHSL Hope.

His lips sometimes burn with the memory of the kiss. But that was with Naegi-kun, not SHSL Hope. But Naegi-kun is...

“Careful, Komaeda-kun,” Naegi steadies him as he stumbles, sighing as Komaeda meekly apologizes. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. Just worried.”

Naegi’s always worrying about others he really should be more apprehensive of. Especially when that other is Komaeda. Considering that he still wants, no matter how much he tries to crush that yearning, Naegi really should be more uneasy than he is.

For some reason, it’s hard to say all that. So Komaeda just nods along and they keep on walking through the long, solitary corridor. The light shines in through the windows on the left side of the hall, filtering onto the tiles, and because he needs to stop looking at the ground to not look at Naegi, he glances out of them as they pass.

He stills to a dead stop in his tracks.

The first thing he notices is someone who has to be Owari, swinging her arms out and slamming them against a laughing Nidai. Even though she looked different—thinner because Komaeda remembers that she was the one who—there was no doubt it was her. They were being cheered on by Sonia, Mioda, and Souda as Tsumiki remained safely on standby tucked under the tree covers. Hanamura was given access to the grill, making what were probably lewd comments under To—the Impostor’s careful gaze. Koizumi and Saionji were chattering animatedly, and Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama were close together as well. Tanaka was more separated from them, though he wasn’t alone as he was just giving bits of food to the birds picking at the ground before him. No, not one of them was really alone.

Except. Where is...?

Souda turns to greet the upcoming presence. Long black hair was done in a braid—who did that, Komaeda wondered—and Ibuki is the first to rush up and tackle the other into a hug. He turns around to his other classmates—no, associates—and once Komaeda sees his face, his mind goes completely blank.

With his smile bright and wide and eyes shut as the rest of the group greets him and gathers around him, there’s no doubt for a moment that it’s him. Hinata-kun. He can’t hear what they’re saying or what Hinata’s saying, of course, but with Hinata’s grin on full display, he doesn’t feel like he needs to.

Hinata never was good at starting conversations, but his expressions were enough. Happy beams to let everyone know he was content—alert focus to show he was in deep thought or carefully listening. Uncertain frowns to show his worry. Gritted grimaces to challenge. Komaeda watches the emotions flicker across his face as keenly now as he did then.

That smile, though. It’s not one he’s witnessed often—mostly if not only small, almost sheepish grins accompanying shy gratitude. Ones that Komaeda could easily return back then. Back then. Now, though...

“They look like they’re having fun,” Naegi notes and it almost makes him flinch. Komaeda feels cold sweat run down his cheek as the younger gives him an easy grin that’s just like his—just like Hinata’s—and... “How about we join them?”

Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. And it’s not like I don’t deserve it. But...

“Aren’t you going?” Hinata, looking at him warily and yet expectantly, and Komaeda could only smile. He can’t now, even as he says the same thing now as he did then.

“I’m not so unaware of my position that I can just walk out there... If I did that, I’d just ruin the mood.” The words come out easily, and he turns away from both Naegi and Hinata, staring back down at the cold tiled floor. “It’s nice that you think it’s so easy, Naegi-kun.”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s...” And because Komaeda can’t bear to hear him say how fine it is when it’s not—he just snaps.

So it ends up this way, with him pinning Naegi to the wall and desperately trying to connect their mouths together as he tries so hard to ignore the heat from the window beating down on his back.

It ends up wrong. He apologizes profusely when his chapped lips scratch against Naegi’s softer ones. But he pulls the other close when Naegi just gives his sweet, forgiving smile, and their mouths rub almost painfully together with his disgusting continuous indulgence. It’s like he’s starving and this is the only thing that fills his stomach—but the necessity is distorted into greed and at this point, Komaeda doesn’t even care if this overabundance causes his insides to collapse—he just needs.

So it’s more like a drug. A drug. Disgusting. Disgusting.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi sighs. Komaeda nips at his lip, teeth gently tugging at them and hands beginning to tremble as he reaches to thread his fingers through soft brown hair. “Komaeda-kun, it’s okay.”

No, it’s not. Komaeda shakes his head before pressing his mouth to his, muting anything else from coming out. Don’t. It’s not.

Naegi responds, pressing back and steadying him with hands on his shoulders. Somehow that undoes him even more—and Komaeda gives a desperate moan.

“It’s alright,” Naegi pushes him away gently when he presses into him harder, the meeting between their lips nearly suffocating even as he greedily tries to take in more. Komaeda’s breathing harshly, drinking gulps of air and trembling like an addict going through withdrawal. It’s disgusting. It must be sickening to look at.

“I-I’m...” His forehead falls into the curve of Naegi’s shoulder. His neck hurts from having to lean, but he can only pull the other closer. “I’m... I’m...”

Naegi holds him in the hallway like he did the first day, the same gentle comfort and loving condolences. He strokes his hair, careful not to get caught on any unsightly knots, and Komaeda’s shaking in his arms like a leaf. It’s too bright—the light from the window, he can’t stand looking at it.

Naegi must somehow notice because he tugs Komaeda back to his room a little later with not much else.

--

He pulls Naegi practically on top of him when he’s back on his bed, connecting their mouths and needing this far more than he needs the image of Hinata’s bright smiling face on someone with long black hair. There are other things too—how this feels like compensation for a time before all that, those memories he does have of Naegi where Hinata isn’t there. This isn’t a surprise because Hinata is not and was never an elite.

He’s nothing special. No talent. And yet.

“Komaeda-kun, enough,” Naegi parts from him, placing his fingers over Komaeda’s quivering lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what? What is there to talk about?” Komaeda asks, attempting a smile but it withers on the spot. He wants to run a hand through his hair, but doing so would require relinquishing the grip he has on Naegi’s shirt. He shakes his head at the idea, though it makes Naegi’s frown deepen a bit. “It’s impudent though, isn’t it, that I’m even doing this. It’s audacious, unthinkable, and I don’t know why I...”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s alright.”

“Why do you always say that? As much as I respect you, Naegi-kun, even I know you’ve got that wrong. It’s not alright.” Komaeda laughed, wheezy and awful and it hurt his throat. Naegi doesn’t even look afraid, not like Hinata did. “It’s not alright because I’m still here. I’m still alive. After everything I’ve done, I should be dead by now—I think I ought to be dead.”

Naegi grips his shoulders, and before he can so much open his mouth to form a denial, Komaeda continues so that he can’t. “I know what I’ve done, and...when I remembered after you found me the first time... I managed to put the pieces together. I somehow managed to piece together the full extent of what I’d done. All I ever did was play into her hands. Again. I was used by her—that person I hate more than anything...and I let her dig her nails into me and squeeze.”

She always held him so tight with silk-laced steel in her tone and hands.

And I didn’t even try to fight her—I didn’t even try. I just let her do as she wanted—helped her achieve what she wanted, I just... I just...

At some point, he just stopped struggling. He just let her do...as she wanted...

“Komaeda-kun!” Naegi exclaimed, and Komaeda was only vaguely aware of why. He was curled in on himself—arms wrapped around himself as tremors wracked his body without relent. His breathing quickened, grew heavier, and his face was wet with sweat and what might be tears. Naegi shouted his name again, and he curled in tighter, beginning to hiccup and hyperventilate.

I’m not dead. Yet he’s never felt less alive in his life. He’s choking on air, feeling like an old coat being yanked in different directions with each worn, ugly thread severing, and despite there being pain—his chest hurts, his throat hurts, his joints are starting to hurt—he’s losing more and more of himself with each passing second. Not dead. Not. I’m not dead.

He hears something. Naegi trying to get to him? But it’s dark, he’s not sure, and he doesn’t know—what’s even going on. I’m not dead. But. But... I should be. I really should be. I meant to be. I wanted...wanted...

Then he just stops thinking. It’s too dark.

--

He wakes up exhausted. The IVs are back in his arm. His body feels like lead. More than anything, he wants to fall back asleep. Never wake up again until it was better. If it got better.

But I’m not dead.

Komaeda lifted his head weakly, wiping off his forehead and blearily blinking at his bandaged stump of a wrist as it rested calmly against the sheets. There wasn’t any blood anymore—there used to be so much blood. His head really was starting to hurt. He needed to take something for that.

Oh, and something for his earlier freak-out. That probably worried Naegi. He doesn’t want to do that again: worrying Naegi...

Nae...gi.

Where’s Naegi-kun?

On cue the door opens, and Komaeda turns with an immediate smile. One that immediately falls from his lips as his jaw goes slack and curls fall before his eyes.

“Komaeda,” Hinata wets his lips, hand squeezing the knob of the door before he ultimately lets himself in, closing it with his back. “I...was told that you...”

This isn’t a joke, is it? I know you’re cruel, Luck, but this is...pushing it. I don’t like it. I’m not happy with this—this is surely bad luck and that’s not fair... But Komaeda forced a smile again, and his giggle sounded painful even to his ears. “Good morning, Kamukura-kun.”

Hinata stilled, and Komaeda saw anger flicker across his features—no, more like a kind of fury—but then Hinata steeled himself, yanking his hand through the long black locks and muttering, almost inaudibly to himself...something. Komaeda couldn’t make it out, not really. Just as he was about to comment on it though, Hinata cut him off with a snarl of his surname.

“Komaeda, just what the hell...” Hinata glared, head lowered and gaze almost glowing beneath his brow. A warning sign—one that would have been frightening considering the face. Hinata’s never made it before and, in all honesty, the actual Kamukura’s expression was threatening in a sense, sure, but more a perpetual state than anything else. Not to mention back then, Komaeda outright laughed at that face. Somehow he manages to laugh again here and it makes Hinata nearly tremble. But he doesn’t say anything, so Komaeda starts.

“You can here for something.” Even with a smile on his face, his voice sounds cold. He feels cold, too, and Hinata even froze with those crimson eyes going wide. He looked more like Hinata with that face. Komaeda’s tone grew icier. “What, exactly, was it that you wanted?”

“I...” He hesitates long enough.

“If you don’t know, then you should leave. Come back when you do, you know?” Komaeda nearly rose his arm to gesture, but stopped dead when he realized it was the wrong one. So he gives up on that and thankfully doesn’t stumble on his next words. “I’ll be here when you do. Perhaps.”

Hinata snaps out of his surprise and glowers again, and he almost reminds Komaeda of a cat in the way he puffs out with ire. It’s actually cute. Komaeda giggles into his hand and that irritates him further because of course, it would.

“I-I...” It’s strange Hinata hasn’t left yet. He usually would have at this point. Instead, it’s like his feet are still rooted to the floor, which is extra strange because Komaeda really would prefer it if he just stormed out like he always does when his tolerance for Komaeda runs low.

Perhaps he wants answers. He didn’t ask for them last time and now is the perfect opportunity. I’ll give them to him, too, if he just asks. Maybe if I make that clear, he’ll...

“Hinata-kun, if you want...”

“I was worried about you.”

Komaeda stills, expression blank with confusion. Hinata seemed to blurt that out without thinking. And before Komaeda could brush it off with an easy ‘no worries’, it was like Hinata snapped in that moment he was taken off-guard by the statement.

Because, abruptly after saying that, Hinata was shouting. “I was worried! I thought something happened when I heard about you blacking out after a panic attack and I—I got fucking scared alright?! You were out of it for days. I didn’t know if you were going to wake up! I was worried sick about you, Komaeda, and considering the shit you pulled, I really shouldn’t have been!”

Hinata spews it all in one breath and at the end of his rant, he’s panting, breathing heavily, and Komaeda can only stare at him blankly. A little bit later and Hinata chokes out an aggravated sound, covering his face with the action. He shakes a bit again, like despite allowing his outburst, that heavy weight on his shoulders remained, and if Komaeda had been in the right frame of mind, he’d be disappointed. Or would that have been wrong?

Though he does agree that, “You...really shouldn’t have been, Hinata-kun.”

“So you did know,” Hinata darkly laughs behind his hand. He really does sound tired and sick of this. It’s not an unfamiliar reaction to Komaeda—he’s seen it before in countless other people but... “You’re such a piece of work.”

Komaeda can no longer look at him. Instead he’s looked at his bandaged wrist again, lying without worry on the sheets over his lap. There’s nothing to hide anymore, he thinks. He also thinks he really needs to have these bandages replaced. “I’m...fine now, Hinata-kun. Thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s just the polite thing to say. He isn’t sure if he means it or not—not that it matters, because Hinata can’t read him anyway. He even has that much more familiar look of frustration on his face at Komaeda’s platitudes. Nothing’s really changed.

“I really don’t get you.”

But at least...

“You try,” Komaeda manages a smile, and he actually feels it’s a bit more genuine this time. “That’s more than I can ask for.”

“Just like with Naegi-kun, right?” Enoshima sing-songs. “You’re still so desperate for affection, Komaeda-kun.”

...wait.

Enoshima giggles brightly from where she was laying her head upon on his bed as Komaeda turns slowly to look at her. She smiled up at him, continuing cheerily. “Some things never change. In fact, isn’t this situation exactly the same?”

It was the same. Exactly the same.

“First Naegi-kun...” Naegi, who was nice to everyone no matter how wretched they were. Naegi still smiled for him even now.

“Now Hinata-kun...” Hinata was smiling so brightly with everyone else earlier. He’ll never smile for him like that though, never.

Enoshima’s smile widened, her index finger tracing shapes into his thigh. “Even though you went through the trouble of opening up to another person, the result is still the same. Isn’t that a shame?”

It wasn’t just random shapes actually. She was tracing letters. She was spelling it out.

“But now you have two people so I guess it isn’t all bad. Naegi-kun’s finally letting you do what you want, Hinata-kun’s even running after you... You could have it all right about now. So I guess it’s not so bad...”

She reaches for his hand—a hand that not only mirrors her own but is her own—and their fingers entwine impeccably. Enoshima held it tight, painted pink lips pulling into her brightest, loveliest beam. “But we know how this ends, don’t we Komaeda-kun? Don’t worry though, when you’re lost again after those two both end up leaving you, I’ll be there. I’ll even hold you, if you want—I’m not going to leave you, Komaeda-kun...”

It’s certain—that’s right. I trust my luck, but... “You lost.”

She lost. She’s gone—she’s dead and she’s never coming back. This is wrong—she’s wrong. I’m not dead—this is wrong. I’m not dead, I’m not... I...

I want...

“Komaeda?!”

Komaeda’s eyes shot open, and Hinata’s face was...close. Over him. Looking stricken and then relieved when he blinked several times in confusion. Held. He...was being held? Hinata’s arms are tight and warm around him, he can hear his heartbeat, and why was he on the floor in this embrace when he should be in his bed?

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, voice hushed before he lets out a heavy sigh. “You lied.”

But she lost. I’m not dead. I want...

“You’re not fine now. You said you were—you aren’t.” He’s all matter-of-fact and weirdly upset about it. But he’s still holding onto Komaeda tight like he’s worried letting him go will allow him to slip away. As if Komaeda has some other place to be other than locked up in a hospital room with only Naegi as his sole...contact.

Hinata-kun’s here though? Yes, Hinata was here holding him. Naegi. Where was Naegi?

“I... Hinata-kun?” His expression changes, from that weird upset to pity, and Komaeda’s handled more carefully than glass as he’s lifted up—almost effortlessly on Hinata’s end, when was he this strong? Surely not Kamukura—and Hinata lays him back on the bed, only flickering his uneasy glance to the unhooked tubes fluttering by the machines once before looking away in distress.  “Hinata-kun, where is Naegi-kun?”

Hinata’s gaze snaps back to him, wide-eyed surprise before hardening into something cooler. “I’ll tell you if you give me some answers first.”

Ah...huh? “Hinata-kun, you could have just asked...”

“They have to be good answers too!” What constituted as a good answer? But Hinata explained that. “I mean, I have to actually understand what you’re trying to say rather than you getting all wishy-washy like you always do...”

The frown on Komaeda’s face might have softened him a bit—making that sternness on his face fade, because Hinata adds in a much quieter voice, “Just answer me as directly as you can, please? I want to understand.”

Komaeda does nod, and the other takes a deep, deep breath.

 “Did you really want me dead?” Hinata asks, still all quiet. “Did you want us all dead? Did you really want everyone including yourself dead so badly?”

It’s strange. Strange. “I...did. I wanted...”

To eradicate despair. To spare the world from more suffering. To end it. If I could. If it was in my cards. Everything I did played into that girl’s hands.

“Got’cha,” Hinata sounds both like he expected the answer yet it still managed to disappoint him. How boring. Komaeda cracked a weak smile despite himself. “Well, you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“Not entirely true. After all,” He turned that weak smile to Hinata, managing to make it a bit wider. “That girl isn’t here, is she? She’s gone. And she’s not coming back. I don’t even have her hand anymore. Of course—I didn’t get to kill her either. I didn’t even get to see her again.”

That’s right, that’s right, that’s...

“That’s for the best.” Hinata sounded sure about that. Truly...strange. “Meeting her was an unpleasant experience. You wouldn’t have liked it anyway.”

Komaeda laughed, and oddly...Hinata didn’t look scared. He still had that look of stern certainty and...strange. Strange. Was this really Hinata? This face... Komaeda isn’t even fully sure he knows or recognizes it. “Well, it’s a shame. But that’s that. It’s not like it wasn’t a possibility I’d die first.”

“You didn’t die.”

“I didn’t, did I? I failed on that account too.” Everything I did played into that girl’s hands. But she’s not here anymore. She’s not. “I...I want to see Naegi-kun.”

“Not yet.” Hinata has the decency to look somewhat ashamed, but his expression quickly hardens. “There’s another thing I wanted to ask. Nanami. Are you aware of what happened to Nanami?”

“That was after I died, how am I supposed to know?” Komaeda whined. “Obviously, I’m aware she wasn’t actually there, but that’s it.”

“That’s it?” For whatever reason, Hinata quirked an eyebrow.

“That’s...” He swallows and nods so hard that it hurts. “That’s it.”

She wasn’t real. My efforts were utterly pointless after all. All I did was play into her hands. Are you asking me about Nanami Chiaki to make fun of me?

No—Hinata wouldn’t do that.

He must have just really cared about her.

Ha.

Haha.

Hahaha.

“I want to see Naegi-kun.” It’s funny, how he’s trying to smile and the efforts leave him shaking. “I want to see him, I want to see him, I want to see him.”

Hinata stares back at him. If his desperate face is being reflected back at him in those crimson pools—he doesn’t want to see it, so his eyes squeeze shut.

“I answered your questions,” he whispered, pitiful and childish. “Or is there something else? I would call you impudent, but given the circumstances... It’s just what I deserve, right?”

He hears Hinata’s intake of breath. He doesn’t want to think about what expression Hinata might be wearing.

“It’s not about that.”

“Why not?” He must come across as such a child. Such a stupid child. “Don’t you hate me, Hinata-kun? Surely you must. Not only did I try to get you all killed, but I was also just... I was horrible. From start to finish. I spoke of hope but I must have brought such despair. Not just to you, but to everyone, to...”

To Naegi-kun, too. I don’t have the right to be alive. Not when so many others aren’t.

Hinata just sighs. Like this outburst is nothing more than a dull annoyance. It’s enough of an insult that Komaeda opens his eyes, realizing then that his vision has gone blurry with tears. It even stings and wiping his eyes with his ruined arm surprisingly doesn’t do much.

“You weren’t horrible at first. You helped me out a lot,” Hinata mutters. He’s almost awkward about it, but shamefully, the tears won’t stop coming so Komaeda can’t look at him properly. Despite that... Despite this shameless, despicable display... Hinata places a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm to the point of searing. “I don’t hate you. Not anymore, anyway.” His hand pulls away, and Komaeda can’t catch it. “I’ll...go get Naegi.”

And because he can’t fathom having the gall to ask the other to stay, he lets his left arm fall. But... But, but, but...

“Thank you.” The blur that is and isn’t Hinata-kun pauses at the doorway. “For not...hating me. I really am sorry about everything, Hinata-kun. I’ll... I’ll try not to get in your way anymore.”

Maybe, Hinata turns to face him. Maybe he doesn’t. Komaeda can’t tell, not when he’s forcing a smile as the tears keep on running.

“P... Please take care.”

It’s funny. Hinata almost sounds choked up. That must be a mistake. It couldn’t possibly be. Couldn’t.

Let’s not think about it anymore.

--

Naegi brings with him a box of tissues. Kind, considerate Naegi. How wonderful he is—how wonderful he has always been.

If only I fell in love with you properly, Komaeda can’t help but think. He blows his nose, and there are flecks of blood in the tissue. They’re as red as Hinata’s eyes now. Before all this... I wish I had fallen for you properly, Naegi-kun.

“You’re so nice,” he can’t help but mourn. “I wonder if that’s because you’re SHSL Hope.”

“Oh, no,” Naegi laughs so easily. “I’m still as normal as I’ve always been.”

Turning her away when the rest of the world fell to her heels isn’t normal.

“Naegi-kun...” He dabs at his eyes before crumbling up the tissue in his hand. “To someone like me, you’re a superhero.”

“I’m just a guy, I swear.” He believed Naegi meant that. So, what was he supposed to think? “Komaeda-kun, I...” What was he supposed to think when Naegi looked uncomfortable, not just uncomfortable but unsure. “I want to help you not just because we were schoolmates, once, but because it’s just the right thing to do.”

What was he supposed to say to that?

Perhaps... Naegi-kun is exceptionally foolish. But...

“You wouldn’t be yourself if you abandoned anyone,” he murmured, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips. “I hate that. I hate that so much. It actually makes me feel even lower than trash.”

“S-Sorry!” Naegi really does look so apologetic. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad!”

“Of course not,” Komaeda sighed, and because Naegi was so close, because Naegi was hovering, Komaeda had the opportunity to kiss his cheek. And he took it. Inelegant and quick, a soft smack of his lips when the pressed against Naegi’s soft, round cheek. “Actually, you make me feel so good that I feel even worse. There’s no winning with someone like me. I’m just the worst, huh?”

He keeps talking, but Naegi is flushed so brilliantly. It’s funny.

He does look normal like this.

“I’m the worst,” he reiterates, and he wants to cry again but he can’t stop himself, “I like you—a lot. I love you, even.”

It’s normal to be afraid of rejection, he thinks, heart pounding so painfully. It’s normal, normal, normal, that’s why I can’t...

He can’t take it. Not here. Not like this.

Not when Naegi is smiling at him like that.

“Komaeda-kun... I...”

Not when Naegi speaks so softly, so gently, so sweetly—and takes Komaeda’s hand, squeezing. Just like how Hinata had squeezed his shoulder before.

No, exactly like that.

Just like that, he can’t bear to think about it anymore.