#instead of having to do it all once I'm actually ready to use the blog

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Have officially begun the process of moving all my content onto the new blog bc my faith in support to actually fix the issue does not actually exist.

If it gets fixed I'll keep using this blog like I've been and just consider the other one a backup. Otherwise I won't be deleted this blog, but I won't be using it regularly (if I continue to), and not for posts meant to go into tags.

I'm not following people yet bc I'm still in the process of moving posts, which means mass reblogging, which means 200 posts straight per day until I'm caught up.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Aphrodisiac

rival!seonghwa x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety

Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names (baby, sweetheart, pretty), choking, spitting, a little bit of hair pulling, seonghwa is actually obsessed with you

Summary: your colleague-turned-enemy pulls a prank on you.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: so i actually got this request like a year ago buttttt life happened and i'm just now publishing it. anyways i hope you all enjoy it and will continue to support this blog by reblogging my work and commenting your thoughts! much love, angels. <3

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“I’m sorry, what?” You both said at the same time, eyes wide.

“Yes, unfortunately we only have one room left. We can prepare a walk letter for one of you to take to another hotel just a few minutes away and we will pay for your stay, but unfortunately we are fully booked.” The front desk clerk offered an apologetic smile.

“Okay…um…give us just a moment.” Seonghwa pulled you back from the desk as soon as you spoke, his expression dark.

“I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest you do. I’m more than happy to turn around and go back home.” You sighed, swiping your hand across your forehead. “Listen, if you’re staying here then I need the car. I don’t give a fuck how we do this, I just want to lay down.” Your lack of snark was concerning to him, given your usual form of communication was bickering.

He was silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “Look, why don’t we both stay? You can cancel your reservation and save yourself the hassle of going somewhere else. I’ll get a rollaway bed and you can have the huge bed.”

Your cheeks flamed at the idea and you weren’t sure if it was due to indignance or something else. Even so, you caved quickly. “Are you sure?”

“We used to be friends, we can manage three nights together.” He rolled his eyes. The words ‘used to be’ hurt for some reason.

“Okay. But any funny business and I’ll hurt you.” You gave a warning glare before stepping back up to the desk. “You can cancel my reservation and give him the room.” You said before excusing yourself, making room for him at the desk.

That was how you’d landed yourself in your current predicament. “I’m a fucking idiot for letting you talk me into this.”

“You’re an idiot for less but okay.” He shrugged as he dropped his bag on the bed. “It’s not my fucking fault they ran out of rollaway beds. It’s also not my fault you’d rather eat rusty nails after having your wisdom teeth removed than share a bed with me.”

“Actually that last part is entirely your fault.” You snorted humorlessly as you rifled through your bag for your pajamas. A cold knot of anxiety settled in your stomach once more when you couldn’t find them. “Oh are you fucking kidding me?” You mumbled to yourself as you checked your bag again. Nothing. “Way to fucking go, y/n.” You sighed and held out your hand. “I need the keys.”

“For what?” Seonghwa asked even as he reached into his pocket.

“I can’t find my fucking pajamas.” You sighed again and he watched with concern as you raked a hand through your hair. “I’m pretty sure I left them on my bed when I was packing.”

Instead of the keys, a shirt landed in your hand. “I’ve got some basketball shorts too. They’ve got a drawstring so they’ll fit.”

“You’re being awfully nice.” You said cautiously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m just not prepared to comfort you if you start crying - by the way, you look like you’re about to.” His usual sass was tinged with something else but you were sure it wasn’t concern.

“I am not.” You huffed before squashing your irritation as he handed you the shorts. “Thank you.” You mumbled begrudgingly as you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Left alone, he heaved out a sigh. What was he doing? He never really hated you, he was just upset over being passed on for the promotion and was mad that you were offered the position when you didn’t apply for it. He was more mad that you didn’t take the offer. He could’ve gotten over his jealousy had you not turned down the position but it felt like a slap in the face that you wouldn’t take something that was being offered to you when he would’ve pounced on the opportunity.

Now he was faced with the uncomfortable reality that he still had feelings for you and would be in extremely close proximity to you for three nights but you couldn’t stand him. Had things not soured between the two of you, he likely would’ve made a move during a trip like this. Now he was left with his feelings and no hope of having anything more than a series of arguments with you.

His heart stumbled to a halt for a brief moment before kicking into overdrive when you came out of the bathroom, hair wet from a quick shower, his clothes dwarfing your frame. Part of him was dying to get his hands on you, to kiss and claim every inch of you. You looked absolutely delectable wearing his clothes and his possessive streak was about to rear its head.

Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away. “It’s about time. Do you always take forever to get dressed after a shower?”

“Well now I'm tempted to take even longer next time. Don’t play with me.” You gave a fake smile as you circled the bed to where your bag still was. You lifted it off the bed and placed it on the floor by the nightstand then turned the sheets back and grabbed the can of disinfectant spray from a shopping bag. The two of you had already stopped by the store and you’d grabbed a small can.

“Is this really necessary?” He frowned in annoyance even as he humored you and followed suit, moving his things and turning his side of the sheets back.

“Yes it’s necessary. Do you know how many people touch these sheets even after they’ve been washed? Or how dirty those laundry rooms actually are? And don’t even get me started on the duvets.” You cringed as you began to spray the bed down, lifting the pillows on your side before circling the bed and working on his side.

“And we’re about to make it dirty by sleeping here. What is your point?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed his clothes from where he’d placed them on the opposite night stand. “Whatever. Have your fun. I’m going to shower.” And with that, he left you alone.

Once you were satisfied, you placed the can back in the bag and crawled into bed, cutting the light on your side off. You drifted off before he was even out of the shower.

When he returned, still toweling his hair, you were fast asleep. He was quick to turn the other light off to keep from disturbing you, even though he wasn’t ready to bed down just yet. He stood over you and watched for a moment, taking in the planes of your face. You looked so worried, so fatigued. What had changed for you in the time that your friendship had fallen apart? He didn’t think too hard about it and got in bed as well.

————————————————

Your presentation had been a failure and you were currently nursing your wounds at the hotel bar, trying to avoid Seonghwa. You knew he’d mock you and you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

You let out a deep sigh when he found you, turning further away from him when he sat beside you. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Remind you of how badly you fucked that up?” He paused before feigning apology. “Oops. Too late.”

“Seonghwa please just stop.” You felt a lump forming in your throat and reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Why? You’re the one who screwed up, not me. You can’t seriously expect me to feel bad for you.” He did but he couldn’t stop digging the hole deeper.

“Seriously. Stop.” You forced out, rifling through your wallet as pressure built behind your eyes.

“Listen, I'm sorry you’re not good at public speaking or whatever, but that’s not my problem. It’s not my job to be your bestie.”

“Yeah, fucking obviously.” You finally spat as you tossed down a twenty and stood. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Seonghwa.” Your face was red and your vision was starting to blur with tears so you hurried off towards the elevator, not wanting to let him see you cry.

It wasn’t your fault you bombed the presentation. Your anxiety had choked out every word you’d tried to say so you’d fumbled through each slide and he’d stepped up, covering the information in a more coherent manner. If he’d been anyone else, you would’ve found comfort in the support, but he wasn’t someone who did things because he cared.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor before repeatedly smashing the ‘door close’ button but it was too late. He’d managed to get an arm in the door before it shut and stepped inside, an unnerving amount of concern etched on his face. Why was he concerned? He loved seeing you pissed off.

“Y/n…” He reached a hand out but you jerked your arm away as the doors slid shut.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Seonghwa.” Your voice cracked and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears starting to fall.

“Y/n, stop.” He grabbed your arm more forcefully this time and spun you around. You looked down so he couldn’t see you properly and he just sighed as he pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Those two words broke something in you and your shoulders shook with a silent sob. He rubbed circles on your back as you cried into his chest, his familiar scent slowly seeping into your bones and calming you as you finally reached the tenth floor after several minutes. Why the fuck was the elevator so slow anyways?

As soon as the door opened, you untangled yourself from him and headed off towards your room without a word. You weren’t sure what to say.

The second the door was shut, he reached for you again. “Y/n, we need to talk.”

“We’ve needed to talk for two years. Why now?” You were tired of trying to figure out what he wanted. Tired of the fighting that only seemed to encourage his irritating ways.

“Because I'm tired of hurting you.” He sighed, gently squeezing your bare shoulders. His warm hands on your skin offered a measure of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

“Why? You hate me.”

“I never hated you. I was angry at you.” He corrected, urging you towards the desk chair and forcing you to sit before he propped on the desk. “I didn’t understand how you could pass up such an amazing opportunity and I was angry that you didn’t want it as much as I did. It pissed me off that you could want to miss out.”

“Seonghwa, I never wanted that position. I’m comfortable where I'm at.” You sighed and crossed your legs. “Have you ever considered why I didn't take it?”

“I just said that.”

You ignored his snarky tone and carried on. “Not only did I not want the job, I knew that you did. It was partially out of self-preservation and partially out of respect for you.”

“If you’d respected me as much as you say, you would’ve taken the job and not seemed so ungrateful.” He deadpanned and you felt more tears, this time from frustration.

“I just told you I didn’t want it!” You exclaimed, uncrossing your legs and leaning forwards. “You saw what happened today. That would’ve been every day if I’d taken the promotion. It’s embarrassing and anxiety-inducing, something I frankly don’t need more of. I’m not mentally strong enough for that humiliation. I didn’t want to take it because I knew I’d fail.” You said bitterly as you stood and kicked off your heels. “And for the record, I told them you were a better fit. So if you want someone to be mad at, be mad at them. Not me. I tried to get you the job.” You spat and then you stormed into the bathroom, leaving him sitting in silence.

It took you fifteen minutes to get ready for bed and when you emerged from the bathroom, he was sitting on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to consider the full reasoning behind you turning down the promotion. I was just so angry that you were chosen and still refused.”

“You’ve always been more ambitious than me. You’re more comfortable in your own skin than I am. More confident.” You shrugged and sat on your side of the bed.

“Which is sad, quite honestly.” He smiled humorlessly. “Listen, I know this is my fault. Can we agree to stop the feud?”

“That depends on you. I don’t instigate, I react. So we can only stop this if you stop trying to get under my skin.” You shrugged and laid down, pulling the sheets up to your chin when he stood. “Now go take a shower.” You hummed and flicked off your lamp.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep once he left the room but the next morning, you awoke to a strong arm wrapped around your waist. You realized your head was laying on his other arm so you tried to move away but he pulled you in closer. “Seonghwa.” A sleepy grunt was his only acknowledgement. “Why are you cuddling with me?”

“You’re warm.” He hummed, his voice deep with sleep. Holy hell… “Must’ve moved in my sleep.” He hadn’t. He’d been holding you the whole time.

“Okay but you’re awake now. So why are you still holding me?” Your cheeks were rapidly heating at the realization that he was shirtless this time. He made an unconcerned ‘I dunno’ noise and shrugged but made no move to release you. You tried to wriggle away again and his grip tightened.

“Well now I can’t let you go.” His voice was laced with amusement. “Solely because you want me to.”

“Unhand me!” You cried, a smile already on your face as you struggled to get away again. He laughed and pulled you further against him. “Come on, I thought we were gonna act like adults.”

“I never agreed to that. I just said I’d stop being mean.” He pointed out as his fingers dug into your side, earning a soft squeal as you jolted. “And in the spirit of being nice, I won’t exploit your ticklishness right now.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” You rolled your eyes, still smiling even as he finally released you.

“Go get dressed. I’ll make us some coffee.” He hummed. You did as he said, padding to the bathroom after grabbing your clothes. As soon as you were gone, he shot out of bed with a grin, ignoring how perfect you looked in his clothes. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean he couldn’t still prank you.

He brewed the coffee and mixed in the creamer and sugar like you liked - he’d observed you making your coffee many times and knew how you liked it - then dropped in the chocolate. He knew how much you loved chocolate so you’d be thrilled to have it in your coffee. It was like a milkshake with how much creamer was in it.

When you came out a few minutes later, he handed you the cup. “I added something for you.” He hummed, waiting for you to sip the drink, which you did cautiously. Your face lit up at the sweet flavor and you thanked him, not catching the mischief in his smile as you drank in comfortable silence.

“You know, part of me isn’t sure I should trust you just yet.” You admitted a few minutes after finishing your coffee.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to change that, okay?” You nodded and bit your lip as you settled against the headboard. “We���ve got the whole morning free. What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I kind of want to go back to sleep.” You chuckled as he gathered his clothes to get ready for the day.

“I mean, you could.” He shrugged as he padded to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

In the short amount of time it took him to get ready for the day, you noticed something was off. You were warm and your breathing was picking up. You felt flustered at the memory of his shirtless form, sweats slung low on his hips, and your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. Why were you so turned on?

Your mouth went dry for a brief moment when he came back before watering as you took him in. He was in all black, his button down hugging his chest just right and his thighs looking powerful in his tight pants, and you wanted to pounce on him. What the fuck?

“You good?” He drawled, lifting a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.

“Yeah, why?” You responded immediately. That was far too quick for your liking.

“Because you look like a tomato and you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat.” He paused and made a show of moving closer. “Wait a minute…” He leaned down and examined you for a moment before grinning, faking shock. “Are you…turned on?”

“No!” You practically shrieked.

“You must’ve really liked that coffee.” He snorted as he righted himself.

Everything clicked at his words and your jaw dropped slightly. “What did you do?”

“Oh you know.” He shrugged as he went to his bag and reached inside. “Gave you a treat.” He grinned as he held up the pack of aphrodisiac chocolates.

“You motherfucker-” You chucked a pillow at him, indignation filling your words.

“Should I have one as well? Maybe we can fuck away the animosity.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he opened the box and pulled out the foil packet. When you hesitated to turn him down, his grin grew. “You want that? Want to fuck away all the bad feelings that ever existed between us?”

Your breath hitched as he broke off a piece of chocolate and lifted it to his lips. Finally, you nodded sheepishly. He quickly popped the candy in his mouth and let out a theatrical groan, both for your reaction and because it tasted amazing.

Your cheeks grew hotter at the sound and you averted your gaze, earning a laugh from him. “You’re too cute, y/n. You never struck me as the shy type.” He stalked towards the bed, lifting one knee onto the mattress as soon as he reached. “You wanna know what I think?” When you didn’t respond, he continued anyway. “I think that the second I get you naked, you’ll be a completely different person. You seem like a screamer. I bet you like it kinda wild.”

You hated how your body reacted to his drawl and you especially hated how quickly he figured you out but didn’t say anything to correct him. Instead, you simply accepted his advances when he moved closer and tipped your head back against the headboard. “Now’s your chance to back out.” He warned, his lips a hair’s width away.

Instead of verbally responding, you closed the tiny gap between the two of you. You felt a jolt of electricity when your lips touched. Immediately, something in him changed. He quickly lost his cool and began to devour your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth the moment your lips parted. You could taste the chocolate on his tongue and your pulse ratcheted up.

Your pussy throbbed when he let out a soft groan and you couldn’t stop your hands from moving to his chest. You deftly unbuttoned his shirt as his hands untucked your blouse and began to lift it. The instant you pulled back, your top was tossed aside and he urged you to stand. You didn’t want to move just yet, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours, but you complied quickly and a moment later he was knelt in front of you.

He pressed his forehead to your stomach as he took a steadying breath, then reached behind you to unzip your skirt. “This fucking thing has been taunting me for ages.” He growled as the material slid down your legs, revealing your already-soaked panties.

He pressed a kiss above your belly button, followed by one right below it, then another right above your panties. “How long?” Your voice sounded strange to you, never having been so rough in your life.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters right now is that I get a taste of your pretty pussy.” His gaze was heavy as his fingertips skimmed along your thighs, making your thoughts fuzzy. “May I?” He asked, fingers finally tracing along the edges of your panties.

You nodded quickly and he didn’t bother moving the material before pressing his tongue to you. The motion was meant to tease, as he quickly replaced his tongue with his nose and took a deep breath, groaning at the scent of your arousal.

Long fingers pushed your panties to the side a moment later, revealing your glistening folds to him. “Shit…” He hissed, his eyelids growing heavy as he zeroed in on your slick. Then his tongue was back on you, lapping at your mess. He locked eyes with you and his hands went to your ass, kneading the soft flesh there as his tongue worked you.

Seonghwa ate pussy like he’d been in the desert for days and your body was the first drop of water he’d stumbled across. Like a man starved. He was beyond enthusiastic and you were certain he’d wring you dry of orgasms before noon.

He sucked on your clit while pulling you impossibly closer and your jaw dropped, eyes fighting to stay open. “S-Seonghwa-” Your voice was a breathy moan as your hands tangled in his hair and he growled against you in appreciation, making sure you felt the vibrations.

You tugged at his hair in response and he gave a harsh suck, making your knees weak. You let out a soft curse and felt him smirk against you but couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed with his cockiness. He was too damn good at what he was doing for you to think about anything else.

Your head tipped back after a few minutes, soft moans flowing freely from your lips. You were doing well at keeping quiet so as not to disturb other guests but he’d change that. He was determined to make you scream and cry for him.

A soft nip to your clit had your spine straightening and your eyes flying open. “Oh fuck me-” You gasped at the pain that quickly gave way to pleasure as he soothed the sensitive bud with his tongue.

“Later, baby.” He teased before diving back in with renewed vigor, his tongue working faster as he felt you tensing under his touch. You shot him a glare but bit your lip hard when he laughed against you.

“Shit-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He groaned at the sensation and you made another small sound. He knew good and damn well what he was doing to you and you didn’t want it to end, even as the knot in your belly began to unravel. “Oh- ‘m gonna cum-” You warned and he sucked on your clit once more, harder this time.

Your toes curled with the intensity of your orgasm. Your chest heaved and your head fell back as you let out a string of subdued moans and soft curses. Even as you came down from your high, he continued to lap at you and you felt a burning sensation under your skin. You could handle several orgasms but you needed a few minutes between each one.

“Hwa wait-” You whimpered. “Hold on.” You gently pushed him back and he reluctantly pulled away.

“The second I get you undressed and on that bed, my head is going back between your legs.” He warned as he stood, pulling you against him. His stiff cock strained against the confines of his pants, pressing against your belly, and you couldn’t help but reach out and palm him as he tipped your head back for a kiss.

You moaned softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he plundered your mouth, noticing the way his cock twitched at the sound. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra and tossing it aside, lightly pinching your nipple a moment later. You squeezed him through his pants in return and he nipped at your lip as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Impatient, you broke the kiss and began to sink to your knees but he stopped you. “Another time, baby. Let me take care of you this time, yeah?”

“But…”

He leaned in so his lips were right by your ear before whispering. “After all our meetings are done for the day, you can do whatever you want. We can come back here and you can have me however you’d like. How’s that sound, baby?”

You clenched around nothing, both at his words and the sound of his voice, rough with desire. “Anything I want?” He nodded. “You don’t know what you’ve just signed up for.” You grinned mischievously as he righted himself and pulled you against him.

“I’m more than happy to be your toy, sweetheart.” He hummed as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. “Now let’s get these off so I can keep playing with you.”

He slid the material down your legs and you stepped out of the flimsy cotton only to be pushed backwards onto the bed. He crawled over you with a wolfish grin, one hand caressing your side. “You gonna let me go down on you again, pretty?”

“Please-” You nodded, your voice coming out as a breathy moan.

“Good girl.” He cooed, already moving down the mattress. He knelt beside the bed and hooked your legs over his shoulders, eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “God- you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

You don’t bother trying to stop his praises, too focused on the way his lips seal around your clit once more. You never would’ve had a chance to respond even if you wanted to.

Instantly, the burn under your skin returned but in a more delicious way. Your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him this way and that. You knew you wouldn’t last long since you’d already had one orgasm so you decided to fully enjoy it and tell him exactly what to do.

Of course, he had other plans. He wanted to appreciate you in ways he’d only been able to dream of before. He wanted to take his time and drown in you. You tasted like Heaven, like he’d always imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

After several moments of sucking and licking, he decided to try something else. Something he hadn’t been able to do while you were standing. His tongue pressed inside you and you immediately pressed against his touch, his nose bumping your clit at the same time. “Oh- Seonghwa, please-” You gasped out, pulling his hair hard.

He groaned against you at the sting and retracted his tongue only to plunge into you once more. In and out, in and out. He carried on like that for close to a minute before he retreated, tongue flicking over your clit once more. At your whine of dismay, he slid two fingers into you and curled them instantly, finding your g-spot in record time. It was as if he had studied your body for years and knew every inch of you. He’d wanted you for so long that he’d dreamt of doing so.

His impossibly-tight pants were constricting. They were getting on his damn nerves. But he wanted you to be the one to undress him so he didn’t dare try to shimmy them off. Not when he was finally able to bury his face between your legs.

You let out a loud whimper as he scissored his fingers and lapped at your cunt, your back arching off the bed. “Fuck- ‘m close, Hwa-” You warned, thighs beginning to tremble. He was too fucking good and you were too high strung to hold back.

As you clenched around his fingers, coming undone as soon as the words left your mouth, he let out a long groan against you. You felt him shift under your legs but didn’t bother trying to figure out why as you allowed wave after wave of white hot pleasure to cascade over your body, back still bowed off the bed.

He helped you through it, sucking and nipping at your clit until you were certain you’d gone up in flames. You gently pushed him away, chest heaving, and he stood between your legs. “I’m so giving you the sloppiest blowjob later.” You panted, smiling up at him as he moved over you.

“I’ll look forward to it.” He grinned as he leaned down to catch your lips in a messy kiss. You reached for his pants as you kissed and made a small sound when you found a wet patch across the front.

“Did you-”

“Yeah. You tasted too good and looked too perfect for me to hold back.” He admitted shamelessly as his lips trailed to your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks since you had another round of presentations you needed to look presentable for later in the afternoon.

“There’s no reason that should be so hot.” You murmured, slipping your hand inside his soiled boxers. You didn’t care if it was dirty, you needed to touch him. Lewd sounds quickly filled the room as you stroked his cock, pride swelling in your chest when he bucked into your touch.

“Wait.” He stopped you even as he rocked his hips once more. “I need to be inside you. Are you still on the pill?”

“IUD.” You said as you lifted your messy hand to your mouth and began to lap up his cum.

His jaw dropped as he watched you lick your fingers clean, eyes glazing over with lust. “Fucking hell…” He groaned, pulling back abruptly. He wasted no time in kicking off his pants and underwear, trying to clean himself at least a little before he rejoined you on the bed. “You’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

“There’s worse ways to go.” You teased, pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer in invitation. A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled back, which you quickly leaned up and licked away, earning a soft curse. You leaned up once more to whisper in his ear as he lined up. “Fuck away all the bad feelings, Seonghwa. You promised.” Then you gently clamped your teeth on his earlobe, reveling in the choked noise he made.

“You’re a demon.” He hissed as he pressed in, gasping at how tight you felt. You whimpered at the stretch and tugged him closer, lip catching between your teeth. “So fucking tight for me, baby. So perfect.”

You moaned at his words, clenching involuntarily around him. You loved the praise and he knew as much now. He finally rocked his hips and you let out a soft whine at the friction. “You’re so big…” You moaned as you allowed yourself to fall back against the sheets, hair fanning out around your head in a halo.

Stars danced in his eyes as the sight of you beneath him. This was a religious experience and he was already in the clouds. And you were praising him? He felt like he might die if you continued to comment. Your approval was all he ever needed and to get the validation in bed too was enough to have him on edge. He was fighting hard to stay composed so was trying to distract himself with random thoughts but you were clouding his senses and he couldn’t focus on anything else.

He gave a deep thrust and you let out a reedy moan, guiding his hand to your chest so he’d thumb over your nipples. Instead of simply teasing, he pinched you and your eyes rolled back. “Harder.” You demanded, unsure of what you were referring to. Did you want him to pinch your nipples harder or did you want him to fuck you harder?

He couldn’t tell either but gladly did both, relishing the sound you made. “You like that?”

“So much.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Need more. Please?” You pleaded, gasping when he pinched your nipple again.

“So impatient.” He tutted. “I love it. You’re so desperate for me that you can’t wait. How cute.” He continued, his hand sliding up to your throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you to be patient.” His smile darkened as he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, cutting off blood flow. His hips slowed and you whimpered but he briefly tightened his grip in warning. “Be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” You nodded furiously and he snapped his hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs. “Good girl.”

You weren’t on this planet anymore. You weren’t even in this universe. The whole ordeal was so hot that you were in your own world, focused only on the pleasure and the oddly-comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Open.” He demanded suddenly and your jaw instantly fell slack. “So obedient.” He cooed as he leaned closer before pursing his lips. Oh god is he about to do what I think? Fuck. You gripped his wrist as he spit into your mouth, a pathetic noise slipping out. “Swallow.” You did so eagerly, your entire body spasming at how hot it was. His jaw dropped at the way you suddenly clenched around him and he quickly pulled out, cumming across your thighs. “Fucking hell, baby. You like it that much? Fuck.” He panted as he stroked himself through his high, groaning when you nodded and reached to rub tight circles over your clit to guide yourself through your own orgasm.

He looked stunning like that. His jaw hung slack, his eyes half-lidded from the intense pleasure. He looked fucked out. He looked so fucking beautiful. He was art.

“Please.” You whispered breathlessly. “One more. Need to cum one more time. Need you to cum one more time. Please?” You begged, vision whiting when he squeezed your throat again.

“So needy, baby. Want me to fuck you so dumb you drool? Is that it?” His tone was nothing but adoring even though his words were meant to sting a bit and your heart throbbed in your chest. Was this more than fucking away tension and animosity? “Flip over. Lemme see that perfect ass.” He pulled away and you quickly complied, wiggling your ass as soon as you were in position. “God- you’re so fucking perfect, y/n. So perfect.” He praised as he squeezed your soft flesh.

“Seonghwa…” You whimpered his name as you tried to push yourself back onto his cock. “I need you so bad. Please?”

“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely, baby.” He said as he lined up and pressed into you. “Fuck- this pussy was made for me, pretty. Feels so fucking good.” He breathed, setting a rough pace from the start. His hips slapped against your ass as he plowed into you, driving you into the mattress.

You couldn’t help but cry out when he slammed into you so hard he knocked you forward. Your knees would be so irritated from the position and the way the sheets rubbed against your skin but you couldn’t care less. You simply wanted to feel him. He was all you needed at the moment.

He suddenly pulled you up from where your face was buried in the sheets and wrapped his hands around your throat for leverage. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart. Like you were made for it. Were you made for me?”

“Yes!” You gasped, jolting when he brushed your cervix. “Yes, I was made to take your cock and anything you give me.”

Lewd sounds filled the air as he repeatedly slammed into you, your mess running down your thighs to mingle with his. You’d need new sheets brought in by the time you were done. You almost felt bad for the housekeepers who would service your room later this afternoon. Almost. You couldn’t feel too bad with Seonghwa balls-deep inside you.

“You’re gonna make me cum.” He warned suddenly as he released your throat and you bit your lip hard. “Where do you want it, baby? I’m already so close.”

“Everywhere.” Your request was simple and it drove him over the edge. He pulled out as he came, covering your ass and thighs with his release. His breathing grew ragged as he allowed the pleasure to overwhelm him and he let out what was easily the sexiest sound you’d ever heard a man make, his voice pitching low in a way that made you clench around nothing.

Before you could reach between your legs to finish yourself off, he was back inside you and working faster than before, even as he began to get overwhelmed from the pleasure. He could feel you tensing with your impending orgasm and he wanted to be the one to send you over the edge one last time before you had to go shower again. “Don’t you dare touch yourself, baby. I’m gonna make you cum. Understood?”

You nodded quickly, thighs beginning to tremble from the sensation overtaking your body. “Yes! ‘M so close, Hwa. Please make me cum. Please!” You begged and he immediately reached around to toy with your clit. Tears sprung into your eyes at the pleasure flooding your body and fire spread beneath your skin.

“I can feel you trembling, pretty. Why don’t you just let go? Cum all over my cock, baby.” He coached and you couldn’t fight it anymore. A cry ripped from your throat and tears began to roll down your cheeks as your final orgasm crashed into you. “That’s right. Just like that.” His deep voice spurred you on as he tangled a hand in your hair, pulling just hard enough for the most delicious sting to spread out over your scalp. “Good girl.” You let out a choked sob at the name, delirious from the pleasure and gratification.

As you slowly came down from your high, he gently released your hair and smoothed his hands down your back. “You did so well for me, sweetheart. So perfect.” You whimpered softly at the praise as you collapsed against the mattress. He slipped out of you and immediately laid beside you, still rubbing your back with one hand. “You okay?” He asked as soon as he saw your tears. You nodded weakly, utterly spent. “Words, baby.”

“I’m okay. That was just…intense.” You murmured, suddenly exhausted.

“It was.” He agreed quietly, reaching to brush your hair back from your face. After several beats of silence, during which he took his time admiring you and playing with your hair, he spoke again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

Your cheeks heated up and you fought the urge to hide your face. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded so you continued. “Earlier you said my skirt was driving you crazy. How long? You didn’t answer me before.”

“Too long.” When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft sigh and began to explain. “I always felt like shit for it but I've wanted you since day one. The moment we met, I knew I needed you. And seeing you in that damned skirt week after week drove me absolutely insane.”

“Why would you feel like shit for that?”

“Because we were friends. I shouldn’t have wanted you the way that I did. They always say women can’t have male friends because they all wanna sleep with you and I felt like I was only proving that right and risking our friendship.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ve always found you insanely attractive too and have had my fair share of untoward thoughts.” You grinned and he let out a soft laugh. After a few beats of silence you spoke again. “I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why the fuck did you have those chocolates on this trip in the first place?”

“We should get cleaned up.” He hummed as he sat up, clearly not wanting to answer. He had a secretive smile on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a pain.” You sighed in exasperation. “Just tell me.”

“Well I hadn’t anticipated being the one helping you with it but I did plan to inconvenience you a bit.” He laughed and you sat up to chuck another pillow at him.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I’m your ass though.” Your cheeks pinked at the thought and you nodded slowly, liking the idea more than you’d anticipated.

“Yeah. I guess you are.”

[vivalas-vega]

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

howdy y'all - we've got another rooster fic. i feel i've neglected this man too much on my blog and wanna start writing for him more so here we are with a fleet week fic inspired by my own journey onto a navy ship yesterday!!! (the similarities between my fic and the real deal start and end with waiting in line. my guide was cute but let's just say he was no bradley bradshaw). it was very cool and educational and if your city does fleet week i highly recommend checking it out! this fic will have maybe three parts total. anyways hope you enjoy :)

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 3.2k

warnings: slight language, naval inaccuracies!! (even tho I just did my own fleet week tour I still don't know shit, I'm just a girl)

The ocean breeze filtered through your hair as you stood off to the side, eyes fixated on the impressive carriers in front of you. The sun felt hot on your skin and excitement was buzzing through your veins as you listened to your best friend in your ear… well, half-listened.

“We’re brunching! Come on, meet us at Malibu Farm,” Maggie said and you sighed.

“I told you it’s Fleet Week, I’m already down here,” you replied and you could feel her eyes roll on the other side of the phone.

“I would be supportive if you were trying to bag one of those Navy hotties but come on… bottomless mimosas and all the dirt on Stephanie’s breakup are better than some boats,” she said.

“I will see you for drinks tonight,” was all you replied before hanging up. You’d tried (very unsuccessfully) to convince some of your friends to come with you, telling them about how cool these carriers were and how you only got the chance to see them up close and personal once a year but they had zero interest… you were the only one in your circle who found this sort of thing interesting, and you would have been bummed except for the fact that you were more than okay doing things by yourself.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to a concert or a museum solo, you actually enjoyed it… you loved hanging out with your friends but it was nice to not be tied to what the majority of the group wanted to do (or didn’t want to do), and as you waited in line you were actually a little glad none of them had taken you up on your offer. If Maggie were here she’d be ogling the cute officer who appeared to be getting ready to take your group on board, and she’d spend the whole tour trying to flirt with him instead of listening to what he had to say. 

You were content to wait in line as long as it took, taking in the beautiful ships to your left before switching to people watching, you knew this week drew all kinds of visitors and you found it entertaining to see such an eclectic mix of people all in one space… there were the obvious ex-Navy types, returning to their roots and reliving the glory days, there were couples who looked a little out of their element but excited for something new to do as a date, and families with kids… you even spotted an entire elementary class on a field trip. Spare your friend group, most people were more than interested in the opportunity to spend a day aboard multi-million dollar vessels and you were one of them.

Across the way Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was chatting with his teammates about how much they wanted today to be over… it wasn’t that he hated Fleet Week, because he did enjoy it for about the first hour, but after that it became tiresome to give the same spiel over and over and over. They’d all tried to get out of it, Natasha had even gone so far as trying to manifest a deployment, but according to the higher ups there was no excuse for the Navy’s best and brightest to not make an appearance at an event happening so close to their home base. 

But then he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you seem so enamored by everything around you… you didn’t hold an ounce of annoyance over the fact you’d been standing in that same spot going on half an hour now, something he’d seen from other visitors a dozen times already, and when a gust of wind kicked up your hair and sent it fluttering around your face you gave a half hearted attempt to tame it, but really you were just enjoying the breeze and the sun on your skin and he knew he had to know your name. He watched Jake getting ready to take your group aboard and he had to know if you’d abandon the formal tour in favor of letting him take you up instead.

You were eavesdropping on a conversation between a sailor and a kid just ahead of you, a soft smile on your lips as you listened to just how excited both parties were to be talking about the ship in front of you and you were so focused on them that you didn’t notice a person approaching you, not until his shadow cast across your face and when you turned you saw a man who nearly knocked the wind out of you… he was tall and solid, arms straining against the short sleeves of his khaki uniform and you thought that no one should look good in that color yet here he was proving you wrong. His golden brown waves glistened in the direct sunlight and he had a slight smirk beneath a mustache that you really wanted to hate, but you really didn’t… he was handsome, potentially one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and here he was standing directly in front of you and you looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, ma’am,” he introduced, extending his hand for you to shake which you did as you gave him your name and a smile. “What brings you out today?”

“A bizarre fascination with ships the size of planets,” you replied and he laughed. It was warm and a little rough around the edges, much like you’d appraised him to be in your short interaction, and you wanted to hear it again.

“Well, my day wrapped up not too long ago and I couldn’t help but notice you waiting for a tour…” he started, leaning in slightly with a mischievous look on his face as if he was about to tell you a secret, “and between you and me, your tour guide is a dud.” he finished and you looked towards the man, tall, blonde and oozing charisma and you had a feeling Bradley was lying to you as you watched him charm the entirety of your group with one sentence… but you weren’t feeling too keen on calling him out on his fib.

“Oh no, is that so?” you replied, disappointment lacing your tone.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I think you oughta let me take you up, make sure you get the tour you deserve,” he propositioned and you nodded, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I think that might be for the best… for the sake of a thorough Navy education and all,” you said and he nodded, gesturing towards the ramp and he held out his hand for you to take as you pulled yourself onto the steep landing. His hand was warm in yours and all-encompassing as he held it and made sure you made it safely before letting it fall back to your side and you were almost a little disappointed when he did.

He led you into the cargo hold, a massive room filled with so many things your eyes had a hard time adjusting at first. You trailed alongside him as he explained everything to you, sparing no detail as he went and you were particularly fascinated by the boat that was rigged to be deployed at a moments notice, positioned right in front of a hatch door, and he told you it was primarily there for search and rescue missions as he rattled off information about how long it takes to get it down into the water and pointed out the crane used to move it around as needed.

You listened with rapt attention as you continued through, you added a quip or a question here and there but mostly you were hanging onto his every word as he pointed out things like their freezer and the gym, and you realized you might have been content to listen to this man read you his grocery list and you had to make a conscious effort to focus on the words themselves and not just the voice that was speaking them. As you made your way up a steep and narrow stairwell, so much so you might have described it closer to a ladder than stairs, he stayed right behind you where he could catch you if you fell and you tried to ignore the fact that his diligence almost made you want to fall.

“There’s a lot up here,” he said as he led you down a hallway lined with doors, “but it’s mostly just bunks and offices. We’re not technically supposed to show you this, but… I won’t tell if you won’t,” he added as he pushed one of the doors open and you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key as you peeked inside, taking in the modest living quarters with multiple twin beds.

“So, this is where you sleep when you’re deployed?” you asked and he nodded, brow furrowing when you looked at him, clearly skeptical about something as your eyes trailed him top to bottom before returning to the beds in front of you, “how do you even fit?” you followed up and immediately you flushed, not meaning to ask that at all but it was the first thing that popped into your head and it flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Not comfortably, sweetheart,” he replied with a laugh and you smiled softly at the term of endearment as he shut the door and nodded for you to follow. He talked about the photos lining the walls, telling you who was who or what was what in the ones he recognized before you went up another stairwell and before you could walk through the door frame in front of you he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned your head to look at him, an unasked question on your face, and he gave you that addictive smirk of his, “now this is the really fun part that very few people get to see,” he prefaced and you felt anticipation brimming as he kept his hands on you and guided you forward.

“Just breaking all the rules today aren’t you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you replied and he wanted to tell you that you could just call him Bradley but one look at the mischief in your eyes told him you knew that… you just liked calling him Lieutenant and he liked hearing it too much to stop you. When you turned your attention forward you were faced with two beautiful jets right in front of you and you faltered for a moment, stunned by the sheer impressiveness of the aircrafts.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, careful of your step as you approached one of them and Bradley tried to commit that look of awe on your features to memory, his heart stuttering at the sight. You instinctively reached a hand out before snapping it back, realizing you probably shouldn’t be touching things with price tags you couldn’t comprehend.

He chuckled, “go ahead, it’s mine so do your worst.” 

He thought you might get whiplash with how quickly you turned to face him, “yours? How have we made it through this whole tour without you mentioning you’re a pilot?”

“Thought I’d keep you on your toes,” he replied as you returned your focus to his jet, hand trailing along the smooth metal as you walked around it.

“I never thought I’d get to see an F/A-18 in person… at least not one that’s active,” you sighed, and now he was certain his heart had stopped in his chest. “Tops out at what, twelve hundred?” you asked and he blinked in surprise, only able to nod in response because he didn’t quite trust his words right now. He knew he liked you as soon as he saw you, so much so he was taking you on his tenth tour of the day when all he’d wanted to do previously was go to the bar, but now he was worried he was in a little over his head as you appreciated his jet, having identified it immediately without any help from him. “God, this is incredible, Bradley,” you said, maybe a little breathless from how excited you were and before you knew it he was disappearing, leaving you standing at the nose with a confused expression.

You laughed when he returned, rolling a ladder to the side of his jet and beckoning you over. He hadn’t anticipated you to know anything about planes, or really have any interest beyond the first minute of being in front of it, but now that he knew otherwise he wanted to show you everything. He held onto your hand as you took each step, trailing right behind you just as he had in the stairwells and when you got to the landing he started pulling the canopy back and you let out another soft gasp.

“Can you get in trouble for this?” you asked, turning to look at him. You knew private tours with high ranking pilots were not standard for Fleet Week, and you also knew this wasn’t an area most people would be allowed in, and you worried for a brief moment what would happen to him if anyone caught you.

He shook his head, “you’re accompanied by a Lieutenant, we’re fine,” he answered, smiling as you leaned over slightly to look inside his cockpit and his heart was thudding in his chest at the sheer wonder in your eyes. He started pointing out all of the controls, telling you what they did and why, and he answered your every question just as he had with the rest of the ship. “Sweetheart, I’ve gotta be honest… I’ve never met anyone who gave a damn about these jets that didn't work in or around them already.” 

You pulled your attention back to him with an incredulous look, “how could they not?” you asked, and you wanted to keep your gaze on those pretty brown eyes that were locked on you, but the novelty hadn’t quite worn off yet and you looked back inside the jet. “I mean… this is next level engineering wrapped up in a pretty package, what’s better than that?” He thought you were beautiful when he saw you standing on your own with your hair blowing in the breeze and the sun kissing your skin, he thought you were beautiful when you laughed at his dumb jokes in the cargo hold, but right now he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you slightly bent over and leaning into his cockpit as you truly appreciated the one thing he loved most in this world.

“Please let me take you on a date,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself and you looked at him a little surprised. You’d been hoping since he approached you that he’d ask, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little at the unexpected timing.

“Ask me again after the tour,” you replied with a smirk and though it vaguely sounded like rejection he couldn’t help but smile. If you wanted to make him work for it then he absolutely would. You asked him a question about the gauges and he told you exactly what they measured, and when you finally made your way back down the ladder he even let you sit on the second to last step as he wheeled it back to its place.

“Bradley!” you squealed when he whipped it around, hands bracing on the poles on either side of you and you were a little breathless when you were suddenly facing him, looking up at him as his strong hands gripped just above your head as he continued pushing you through the open area.

“Just wanted a better view,” he replied and you flushed at the compliment. Even though it was only two steps he still offered you his hand as you got off and of course you still accepted it, lingering for a moment before dropping it. He took you back through the carrier a different way than you’d came so he could show you absolutely everything, still narrating as he went. Truthfully, there wasn’t much difference on this route than the other but it was longer and he wanted to drag this out. He knew as soon as you stepped off the ship he wouldn’t have any reason to keep you longer than he already had, and he wanted to postpone that moment as long as he could. 

When you entered the now familiar cargo hold you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, you didn’t want your time with Bradley to come to an end but it seemed it was inevitable as he led you down the ramp and back onto solid ground. Your eyes were bright when you turned to face him and you still had that smile on that hadn’t seemed to leave your face all day and it was another sight he wanted to commit to memory. You had surprised the hell out of him, turned his boring day around the second he saw you and he knew with certainty he couldn’t get enough of you… and you were in the exact same boat. You knew when you got here today you’d have a good time, that the other man Bradley insisted was a dud still would have given a good tour and you’d have gotten exactly what you came for but the man in front of you exceeded every one of your expectations and then some, and you weren’t looking forward to the moment you had to go back to your car and not have his eyes on you anymore.

“Bradley, that was…” you sighed, “that was incredible, I don’t really know how to thank you for that.”

“Let me take you out,” he replied easily and you flushed, the tour was over and he was wasting no time in asking you out again, and this time you let him. 

You nodded, “I’m free tonight.” His grin was wide as he fished his phone out of his pocket for you to input your number, and you couldn’t help but mirror him when he told you to put your address as well so he could pick you up… if this was anyone else, if you hadn’t just spent the afternoon with him catering to your every query and whim, you would have told him no. You would have said you could meet him somewhere, but you trusted him. The few hours spent together showed you that you could, and that wasn’t lost on Bradley. If you’d said no he wouldn’t have even blinked, he would have suggested something else that made you more comfortable, but you didn’t say no… and that caused his chest to tighten as he looked down at your beautiful smile.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek and you felt your skin tingling as he pulled away. “Wear something comfortable.”

You nodded, a little curious as to what he could have planned but you could just tell if you asked he wouldn’t say, and you were more than happy to let this man surprise you. “I’ll see you tonight, Bradley.”

“And I’ll be counting down every second.”

[ambrosialdesire]

OMG i would like to request yandere bertolt x paradis reader.you can pick whatever part of the timeline you want, maybe he managed to survive to take her to marly, or maybe she just tried to escape on marly or paradis, or maybe he just kidnapped her I don't really care

Thank you

desiderate

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 bertolt x fem!reader word count: 9.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, some explicit sexual content, s4 bertolt au, implied non-con, violence, kidnapping mention, stalking, forced kissing (kinda dubcon), slight groping, kinda masochistic bertolt, cigarette usage/smoking, blood kink, knife kink, slight voyeurism, male masturbation mention, panty jerking off mention (?), slight body mutilation, scarification implications, all characters are 18+ synopsis: they've brought you here on this foreign land, a land that was once believed to be completely overrun with monsters. you've been living pretty easy with this new life of yours but it's hard to forget about what he's done to your old home. this singular man, capable of complete destruction despite his nervous demeanor. there may be humans here but the true monster still remained, watching your every move until he was ready to strike. a/n: IM NGL IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST BERTOLT LMFAO i made bro a creep cause i feel like between bertie and reiner, bertie definitely has the tendency to be lurking and stalking behind corners and constantly following you and finding to opportunity to snatch your underwear to jerk off into LOL the reference that i used for s4 bertolt is this fanart that was used in a tiktok edit but i have no idea who made the art and it's making me scream bc it's definitely how i imagine what he looks like (but with thicker chin stubble) and i want to give the right creds (if you look up s4 bertolt/bertholdt fanart on google and see a tiktok image of him smoking, that's what i'm talking about but i want to give actual creds to the artist) also mb on the smoking scenes idk how it feels to smoke but i do sorta know the distinct smell of it this is also in no way connected to the cacoëthes series just to let yall know hehe i hope you enjoy this anon! thank sm for your request!! and sorry for the wait LOL note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"Call off your damn hound Reiner, I'm getting sick of his shit."

Pushing past the blond as you entered his home, you made your way to his dining table. You huffed as you sat down, leaning back against the chair as your boot-covered legs kicked up on the wooden table. Reiner rolled his eyes, pushing them back down to the ground with a heavy thud. He crossed his arms, leaning on the wall adjacent from where you sat.

"A hello first would suffice. What's Bertolt getting himself into again?"

"My business!" Exasperated, you threw your hands over your face. "He keeps fucking following me and it's starting to freak me out. You guys know I'm not suspicious anymore, there's no way for me to be able to contact Paradis Island at all."

Saying your old home's name had started to feel foreign on your tongue unfortunately. It's been over four years since you've been whisked away by these two assholes and living here has been nothing but a thorn on your side. You worked under the Warrior Unit, mostly a simple soldier for both Bertolt and Reiner to boss around for basic things. It's nothing different from your time as a scout but it's frustrating working for them instead of with them.

You don't know why they took you away with them instead of breaking out their other accomplice, Annie, but after a handful of screaming, punching, kicking, and biting from you, they managed to drag you off to the boat. You stayed there for an estimated week or so with random strangers coming and going, poking and prodding at you as if you were one of Hange's experiments on Eren and randomly caught Titans.

The two of them finally came back one random night unconscious, battered and beaten to the point where their Titan healing powers couldn't even help them fast enough. You needed them alive — how else were you going to manage escaping this unknown place of theirs — so you helped tend to their wounds, staying at their sides until they were finally awake.

Once they were conscious enough, you punched Reiner square on the nose, spinning around to smash your knuckles right into Bertolt's cheek. Your hand was throbbing in pain but the burning fury you felt was stronger. By the time they woke up, the boat already was leaving the docks, and now you were most likely already miles away from home.

"You fucking assholes."

Blood was dripping down his nose, while a cut just barely formed on the bruised skin of the other. It was in vain however. Steam was steadily coming out of the two of them, meaning that the healing was back in working condition.

"FUCK! I didn't even say anything yet!" Reiner scowled as he placed his hands around his nose, snapping it back in place with a nauseating crack.

Bertolt laid there quietly however, lanky fingers brushing against the welt on his face but he was unable to meet your stare. Tears started streaming down your face, your body crumpling to the floor. You were completely hurt, you trusted these two like they were family, especially Bertolt. Was he really who you thought he was? How could they do this to you? To everyone back in Paradis?

"Why? Why me?"

The two of them fell even more silent, Reiner looking up at the ceiling while Bertolt closed his eyes shut as if he was the one that was currently going through it.

"Well say something goddamnit! Why am I here?" You were beyond angry, voice crackling from how loud you were screaming at them. "Tell me!"

Bertolt finally opened his eyes, pale green staring into yours. You couldn't see him. There was only the Colossal Titan looking down at you as if you were nothing but an insignificant speck on the wall. He opened his mouth, uttering remorselessly one phrase that made you even more resentful of their entire beings.

"I'm sorry."

Now you were here after long months of being processed and interviewed over and over by many Marleyan higher-ups, eventually and finally gaining their trust. You knew they still didn't like you but who really gives a shit, they left you alive and that's all you could be grateful for.

Since you directly worked underneath the two Titan shifters, they were able to get you housing and some basic supplies for you to be able to function properly in their society, as well as a good amount of pocket money to buy whatever you needed. You didn't go out of the house for a month though, still horribly and rightfully angry at them. You were also afraid of the idea that you'd get mobbed immediately once you stepped out and killed on sight by the locals.

Bertolt was the one that finally knocked on your door, tired and baggy eyes focused on the peephole. Part of you wanted to keep the door closed and ignore his presence, but he might report you or something stupidly petty. When you opened it up, the faint waft of bitter tobacco invaded your senses, nose wrinkling at the unfamiliar smell.

As you looked up at him, he felt and looked even more like a stranger than a past friend. It's only been a month but it looked like he had gotten broader at the shoulders and taller. He was wearing a beige uniform, a white undershirt and black tie peeking out of the chest of the long, belted trench coat. His black hair was partially pushed back with gel, slightly being more grown out from the last time you saw him. The way he held himself now in Marley was completely different from Paradis, an eerie calmness surrounding his person. He used to hunch into himself when he was a trainee and a soldier, but now his back was rigid and straight, arms hidden neatly behind his back. The posture reminded you of the utmost dedicated soldiers in the Scout Regiment.

"You haven't been going to work." He softly spoke, his head slightly tilting to the side.

"So?"

"Failure to comply means termination. Termination means you'll get kicked out of Marley. Getting kicked out of Marley means death." Alright, straight to the point. Even the way he was speaking sounded different, as if he had suddenly gained a newfound confidence that was only present here in his homeland.

"You guys really thought I was able to function properly in a new continent where everything is different in a few months? Not to mention, I'm still pissed off at the two of you but fine. I'll come in tomorrow. Goodbye." You proceeded to close the door on him but he stopped it with his boot. Groaning under your breath, you tried pushing at the door so he could back off, but it was to no avail.

His hand grabbed the side of the door and heaved it open with little struggle, letting himself in as you toppled back into the ground from the force.

"You haven't been going out at all. When's the last time you bought groceries?" You flinched, avoiding his judging gaze. How did he know?

"Last month." You muttered as you got up from the ground, brushing yourself off.

Bertolt sighed, glancing off to the side. "Okay. I'll wait here for 15 minutes. Go get dressed and get your money, I'll help you navigate the markets."

You didn't want to but food was definitely running low, and you don't know how long the canned meat in your pantry was going to last in your anger-riddled protest. You made your way upstairs, rummaging through the closet and grabbing the cleanest clothes you were able to find and put on within the time limit he gave. Making your way back down, you found him in the exact same spot, his eyes glancing around the living room.

"Alright. Let's go and we're going to make it quick. I don't think I can stomach standing next to you for this long." You bitterly grumbled, moodily pulling the door open. Bertolt followed after, closing the door for you and taking the lead. What sucked even more was how quickly you had to dash after him, his steps being too large for you to have a steady pace next to him. Maybe him being a near giant compared to a normal person — you noticed as the two of you walked through crowds of people — was thanks to the Titan DNA.

Each passerby gave you a look as you walked on through but never spared a second glance, which was good. You knew that you were an unfamiliar being, a foreigner that was never supposed to be here in the first place. The farmer's market was still open, vegetables and fruits neatly lined up in each stall. He did most of the talking, being able to haggle easier due to his status and the blaring armband that wrapped around his upper arm. You didn't like having to be publicly labeled, it felt like you were merely a product rather than a person.

You were focusing on a stall with jars of honey and jams when some person suddenly shoved you aside with their shoulder, body suddenly losing its balance due to the amount of groceries you were holding on one arm. You prepared for the impact of the cobbled ground but never felt it, instead feeling a firm hand snug in-between your curve of your side and another on your shoulder.

"Careful now." You opened your eyes, meeting his in shock once he steadied you back on your feet. Bertolt's face soon turned to a bright red, his hands quickly leaving you, and his gaze glancing away. Perhaps there really is still some semblance of the man you knew in your homeland.

"Th-thanks..." Adjusting the bag stiffly back up your arms, you proceeded forwards without him, leaving him behind at the stall. It became a usual thing eventually, he'd come over every two weeks to make sure you were fine and the two of you would go out buying your necessities for an hour or two. It didn't erase the fact that you still hated them, but at least he was helping you get comfortable in this strange new world.

You finally started going to work as promised, wearing an awkward and stuffy white uniform that made even the tangling straps of the cadet uniform pale in comparison. According to the paper that came with the uniform, you were to report to Reiner and Bertolt in one of the headquarters' rooms. However, the details were so vague that you were completely lost in the beginning, roaming the hallways without a clue where you were heading.

"Soldier. Face me."

You stiffened, turning around and straightening up. The tall man was vaguely familiar, a full blond beard lining his face and round spectacles hiding his eyes. His right hand raised up as if he was saying hello and you quickly returned the gesture, somewhat remembering that it was their version of a salute.

"Name and ranking?"

"Y/N L/N, er... I'm not sure of my ranking sir. I just know I'm assigned to work for the Vice Captain and one of the Warriors?" You shuffled your feet awkwardly and he nodded, gesturing his hand for you to follow him. He started scratching his ear as he walked, as if he was in thought. To you, he really felt familiar but you couldn't quite place where the feeling belonged.

"Ah yes," His eyes glanced at you, the blue color peeking out from behind the glasses. "Now I remember. You're Reiner and Bertolt's human souvenir from the devil island, aren't you?"

Is that what they called you? And how dare he call your home a devil island! A bubble of anger was rising within you, but you didn't want to take it out on the older man that was helping you find your way. He had to be a higher-up based on his demeanor and you'd rather not get in more trouble.

"...Yes sir, I am."

"You were supposed to be here a month ago." You cringed internally but nodded slowly.

"It's my fault sir. I've only been here for a few months and everything is too... new. I hope my absence didn't affect anything." The man simply hummed, stopping at a door with the words 'WARRIORS UNIT' neatly carved into the wood. You pulled the door for him, letting him saunter in before you entered.

"I found your little pet, you two." His hand pressed against the small of your back, pushing you forwards towards a table where the two of them sat. They looked completely exhausted and were partially bandaged up, quietly sparing a glance at you with a short wave.

You settled yourself in-between them, about to thank the man for helping you but he was already stepping away, going outside to light up a cigarette.

"Don't mind Zeke, he's just... eccentric like that. Hope he didn't offend you." Reiner pushed a pile of papers towards you to sort once you turned back to them, saying something about piling them from who sent them; the important files being from the commander and the Marleyan superiors and the unimportant files being from other soldiers. It slowly dawned on you that you became some sort of assistant to them, a glorified secretary for their war schemes.

"It's nothing too difficult, you're lucky to get this kind of work compared to us and the other Eldian soldiers." Bertolt slightly smiled, continuing to read a paper in his hands and you sighed quietly, beginning to sort. Part of you was grateful you didn't have to face war anymore, but the other part didn't want to be treated differently. Maybe the Marleyans thought that you'd defect once you were on the field or kill as many as you can with a weapon in your hands, going out in a blaze of glory. You never held a gun before though and it was most likely that everyone in this military could shoot you down before you could aim it at one person.

An hour or two passed by and you finished up the sorting, neatly tapping them together. It really wasn't a difficult task at all, were they going to make you do something else for today? You quietly waited for any orders, the two focused on their own thing until Reiner suddenly got up.

"I'll go get lunch for us. Y/N, you can relax for now, there's nothing else we need from you today. Good work." He ruffled the top of your head playfully, just like he did before after a training session in the corps. The blond soon left the room, leaving only Bertolt and you alone.

The two of you sat in silence, your hands fiddling with the seams of your uniform. Was sorting the only thing you're going to be doing during your time here? You'd quit within the month if that was the case but if not, maybe in due time you'll save enough money to open up your own shop. You've always wanted to sell clothing back in Paradis, just like your mother and father.

"You look good in the uniform." Bertolt finally mumbled out, the sound of a paper flipping over barely making it audible. You slightly flushed at the comment, diverting your attention to the closest wall in sight.

"Really? I feel like a wet cotton ball, it's so uncomfortable. The scouts uniform is way better." You grumbled, tugging at the cloth around your legs.

He slightly laughed at that, shaking his head. "No way. The scouts uniform was too tight, not to mention the straps were always so difficult to put on."

"Maybe it's cause you're a literal giant compared to everyone there. I just know they had to customize a whole other set for your ass." He snorted and started laughing, dropping the paper in his hand. You couldn't help but let out a few chuckles as well, crossing your arms together. The two of you bantered for a little bit longer and just for a second, it felt like you were right back home in the training corps canteen.

Everything fuzzed out in your hearing and you soon found yourself comparing home to here. The smells were different, not quite fresh as the countryside air and had a more smoky tone with every breath you took. The sights were different, more machinery was seen rather than grassy fields and trees. The people were different, there was no one recognizable to chat with besides your kidnappers. Everything here had entirely evolved and you were being forced to adapt to it. The realization made you feel a drop in your stomach, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.

"Bertolt."

"Hm?"

"I want to go back home." Your voice was meek, heavy droplets falling down and staining the white fabric beneath you. His body stiffened and he got up from his chair, almost slamming it into the table when he pushed it in.

"This is your home." He responded coldly, a singe of irritation trailing off his words as he left the room, slamming the heavy door shut. You started to sob quietly, tightly holding onto the sides of your sleeved arms.

No it wasn't, and Bertolt knew it too.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Your work schedule was simple: Monday to Wednesday from 9:30 am to 6 pm, you served the Warrior Unit. Every other day, you could do whatever you wanted and that was that. The pay was pretty good for a livable wage, but nothing special. No task you were given from Reiner or Zeke was too difficult either, it was usually just sending out letters to their superiors or sorting anything they wanted you to sort. To be honest, it felt like they were just tolerating you since the Marley government didn't want to deal with you anymore. It sucked but it's better than being belly-up in the ocean.

You haven't tried to make amends with Bertolt after that day because one, it was his fault so why would you apologize anyways and two, he hasn't been around that often in the office space. Reiner explained to you that there will be days, sometimes weeks or months where some or none of them will be here. Apparently when they came back with the failure to retrieve the Founding Titan, the loss of Annie and her Titan, and the inability to capture Eren's special Titan, some nations came together and declared war on Marley.

"Hopefully it won't be so often that we're going to be gone for long. Wouldn't want to have you sit at home and do nothing." Reiner teased with a slight nudge against your arm before downing his glass of liquor.

"I do nothing even when working. Maybe I'll pick up some new hobbies when you guys are gone, like knitting or cross-stitching."

Maybe you can give the creations to your neighbors since you were just doing it for fun. One of them is an expectant mother and since you had moved in, she had been nothing but kind to you. It would be nice to give something to her in return.

"Alright grandma." You elbowed his side hard, rolling your eyes. He grunted and started rubbing the affected area, grumbling under his breath about your temper.

"Where's Bertolt? Aren't you guys inseparable?" He suddenly cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. Back in the training corps and the short time in the Survey Corps, you've rarely seen the two separated. Wherever Reiner went, Bertolt followed suit.

"Probably caught up in something. He'll be here soon, he never cancels without notice." He waved his hand dismissively and you thought none the wiser, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass before taking a swig.

"Already missing him?" You suddenly choked on the liquor, throat burning at the sensation. No way. No way in hell, you'd ever miss him. He could get swallowed up by another Pure Titan and you wouldn't even bat an eye. You'd laugh instead, basking in the blood that would gush out of his torn corpse.

Before you could even say anything back, a soft voice popped into the conversation. "Missing who?"

The two of you turned and there stood Marley's behemoth, still dressed to the nines in his uniform. Reiner greeted him happily, ignoring the question completely, turning towards the bartender and ordering another scotch for his friend. Bertolt settled right next to you, taking the glass in his hand and drinking up the entire thing in one go, some liquid spilling out of the corner of his lips. He quickly wiped it up with his thumb, his tongue peeking out and licking the remnants away. His cold green eyes glanced down at you suddenly, catching you staring at him.

A flush of heat went through your skin, quickly looking away to stare into your partially-full glass. The drinks kept on coming, the haze of alcohol filling everyone's systems. You were the least intoxicated, slowly taking in the new attitudes and information from your drunk companions. It wasn't much but they became more chatty, opening up about their lives before Paradis.

"I joined because of my mother." Reiner moved his glass towards the bartender, his head leaned up against his arm as he watched the brown liquid fill up his cup.

"Oh yeah?" He nodded, taking a sip from the newly refilled glass before speaking once more.

"She had high hopes that our family would've been whole again. Me, her, and my father. He's, uh—" He cleared his throat, turning his attention towards you. A faint dust of pink rested on his cheeks, a cheeky smile growing. "He's a Marley-blooded man, so y'know... I'm not really supposed to..."

"Exist." You muttered as you finished his sentence and he let out a soft laugh, nodding lightly before downing his drink again.

"Harsh, but more or less, you could say that's it. Compared to me though," The black-haired man closed his eyes, huffing softly. "Bertolt here is more tragic."

Curious but puzzled, you turned your attention towards him, his hand running through his gelled locks and he mumbled something under his breath before taking a shot. You did wonder a bit about how this man turned out to be the worst attacker on Paradis Island's humanity, it felt sickening thinking about a sweet little boy being trained into a horrid monster.

"You know I hate talking about it Reiner." The blond snorted, turning on his chair and leaning back on the bar's counter.

"C'mon. Let her in on your situation, after all—" He stood up, walking over to him and placing his hand over his shoulder, leaning in close to his ear that you almost barely caught what he said.

"You owe her that much."

Reiner made his way to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone once more together. The thought of trying to decipher what he meant flew past your inebriated mind and so you sat in silence, instead thinking that you might as well make your way home now. It was probably already past midnight, and you were sure that you were waking up late with a massive headache. As you finalized your decision, turning in your stool and towards the door without a goodbye, the thump of glass hitting wood snapped you out of it.

"I was raised only by my dad." Bertolt started and you slowly turned back towards the counter, your full attention on him.

"Don't know what happened to my mom, he never really told me and I was never curious enough to ask. It was just the two of us for as long as I knew but even as a kid that could barely read, I knew that he wasn't... okay." His fists clenched together and you could hear the cracks of his joints from how tightly he was gripping.

"When you're born an Eldian and live in the farthest parts of the internment camps, medicine is hard to get by and treatment is even more difficult to obtain. The minute I became eligible to join, I took the opportunity." You don't know what compelled you in the moment, but you placed a hand on one of his fists. He started relaxing once he realized that you were touching him, still stiff as he reminisced further.

"Did they give him the meds?" Bertolt nodded, taking in a shallow breath.

"A few days right after I inherited the Colossal, they started giving him everything they promised and he was getting better day by day. It wasn't until I left for our mission in Paradis that his condition evolved into something worse." You swallowed nervously, slipping your fingers into his and holding his massive hand gently. His head turned towards you, his eyes soft as he looked into your gaze.

You've never seen or heard him be so vulnerable before, guilt forming in the pit of your stomach. For him, he was fighting a one-sided war against your home, all because he wanted to take care of his dad. Yet in return, he caused the displacement of so many from their families, ripping them apart with a few kicks into the walls.

"When Zeke came on Paradis and we finally met up, I asked him about my dad and he told me that despite all the medicine and treatment that he's been getting, he wasn't getting any better. I had to see him again, no matter if I had failed the original mission or not. I couldn't die on that island without being able to see him again and I just barely made it. Sometimes the way we escaped made me wonder how I even made it out of there. It was only for a few months that I got to spend with him once we came back, but he passed away in his sleep last month."

His hand tightened around yours, though not enough to break it. No wonder he started to look more disheveled and exhausted recently, his whole reason for getting where he is was now gone. You pitied him but that didn't excuse the murders of thousands he did in your homeland. At the same time, it didn't mean that you should bring that major fact up, not when he was currently grieving.

"I'm sorry Bertolt."

"It's alright, you don't have to pity me. I have more to be sorry about towards you and the others. I'll never be able to properly make it up, nothing I'll ever do will be enough to wash away the blood on my hands."

The two of you sat there in silence, a warm hand around one cold hand. You really should leave now, before Reiner comes back and you'll be stuck drinking even more than you wanted to. You attempted to finally slide off the wooden seat, but he clenched your hand gently and tugged you towards him instead. Your eyes fluttered in both confusion and tiredness as you stood in front of his sitting frame. Blinking once, his face appeared right in front of yours. His free hand slid behind and rested against the nape of your neck, feeling thin but calloused fingertips tenderly brush against the skin as he pulled you even closer.

Okay... this was getting a little too weird for your liking. Beginning to open your mouth to verbalize your annoyance and trying to move back, he then took the opportunity to press his lips against yours.

You could taste the alcohol that the three of you had been previously been consuming intertwine with the tobacco's bitterness of the cigarettes he used, a vagueness of something sweet brushing up against your tongue as he tried to coax you into returning the action. His stubble was rough against your skin the more he moved, digging deeper as he pressed further into your mouth.

You had half the mind to bite that damn muscle of his, but the warmth of both the alcohol and him was stupefying, hypnotizing. It felt like you were melting against him, a warmth pooling in your stomach and in-between your thighs. Slowly, you convinced yourself to return the kiss, gravitating into his embrace. It was stupid of you to do considering you hate the guy but hey, who doesn't do stupid shit every now and then? Fuck, you even started wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders.

There wasn't much people in the bar anyways, either too drunk off their minds to care or simply ignoring the disgusting couple intertwining themselves in the public space. The bartender was off chatting with another patron, most likely used to the sight of a couple making their passion uncomfortably known to others. It's the Colossal Titan user, who on Marley dared tried to say something about it?

The hand that once was holding yours, grabbed at the crook of your back to draw you even more impossibly near him, then sliding down towards the curve of your ass. To your utmost surprise, he clutched and squeezed at the flesh firmly, feeling you up with this sudden confidence that you would never thought of him having before.

"Annie."

Sobriety hit you like a cold bucket of water splashing onto you once you heard her name slip through his swollen lips, taking no time to immediately shove the man right off of you. He just told you his story, that his dad had just died last month, and here he was, kissing and groping you and then suddenly calling out Annie's name. You were breathing hard, eyes wide as saucers as you stared down at him in shock.

"What the fuck? What the fuck!?"

Bertolt's hand reached out to you, as if he was trying to make you lift him back up. You've never felt so nauseated to hear those very words come out of his lips as a valid apology, like it was no big deal.

"I love you."

You ran.

You ran out of the bar, into the blackened sea of night, never once looking back. If you did, you were afraid of what you might see in his eyes or if he was chasing after you. With tears lingering in the corners of your eyes, one single thought remained.

Out of everyone in the squadron, why did it have to be him?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

For a month and a half the day after what happened, you never saw Bertolt in the office or around the internment zone.

It was probably the first time him and Reiner were ever separated for this long, the blond telling you that it was his own decision to be sent off into the battlefield alone. You wondered if he told him what he did to you after he came back from the bathroom, or excused why he was on the floor and why you were gone. Reiner never said anything about the incident, so it soon faded in the back of your mind into obscurity.

He wasn't your first kiss anyways, some now-dead nobody trainee back in the day was, and the two of you were drunk, stupid shit happens. Part of you also somewhat knew about Bertolt's fondness for the Female Titan user, originally not knowing about how close they were previously, but damn it. For a heated moment to be ruined like that left a sour taste in your mouth, and you couldn't help but hate him even more for it.

"He's back."

"Who?" Reiner's fist came down on the top of your head playfully, catching your attention from the paperwork.

"Y'know who. Better talk to him now before he passes out from exhaustion from the looks of it. Also, because I know you miss him~" He teased and you swatted his fist off of you, watching him as he walked off towards the main room laughing, leaving you with a pit in your stomach. You really didn't want to talk to him, even if a month had passed on by, but legally, he was your superior. Professionalism before personal feelings unfortunately.

You finally got up, walking slowly to the destination before taking in a deep breath and entering the medical unit. Bertolt was near an open window, a lit cigarette lazily nestled in-between his fingers as he stared out of it. He was the only person there and you swore that every time you saw him, he started to look more unrecognizable from his previous cadet days. His hair wasn't slicked back anymore, falling at the front of his eyes; in fact, you thought it might've grown out a little more from the last time you saw him. The Titan marks were still prominent on his face, like he had just transformed not long ago.

Wiping your clammy hands on your puffy uniform, you approached him, pulling up a chair nearby the bed and sitting down stiffly.

"Welcome back sir."

His head turned towards you and you swore that you felt the room grow colder as he gazed into you through the black strands of his messy hair. Maybe you were the only one that noticed, but his eyes were dead, hollow but still held some sharpness in those pale green irises. This was no longer the Bertolt you knew, this was a numbed man that got mentally thrown and torn apart in the arms of the constant war, the constant transforming, and the constant murder of many.

"Hit me."

"E-excuse me?" He must’ve gotten faster because you didn't realize how quickly he grabbed you until he pushed the palm against his healing skin. It was burning to the touch, as if you were right next to a blazing bonfire. Instinctively, you started to try and wiggle out of his grip but he held steady.

"Hit. Me." Bertolt's grip grew stronger around your wrist, fear creeping in through every cell in your body as you watched the surrounding skin pale from how hard he was holding. "That's an order."

You swallowed but nodded quickly in agreement, just so he can let go of you before any bones shatter. He immediately released you straight away, the action as fast as he previously took ahold of you and took a hit of the nearly burnt out stick. You had to hype yourself up for it, thinking back on every rotten memory you’ve had with him, balling up your fist and striking him as hard as possible where he originally placed your hand. The force made his head swing the other way, the cigarette butt dropping on the ground as your knuckles throbbed in agony. It was like directly punching a stony wall, not like the previous time you punched him on the boat to Marley.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, straightening back up as you held onto your wounded hand. "And how do you feel, Bertolt?"

Bertolt’s body didn’t move, but his hand began to slowly trailing up to the injury, pressing his fingers against the forming bruise. You flinched as he pushed his hair back to where you could finally see his eyes, exhaling the smoke that he previously took in through his nostrils. He glanced over in your direction and let out a soft chuckle, although you noticed that it didn't quite reach those dull eyes of his. There was one thought that lingered in your mind as you stared back into his gaze, that he must've gone crazy fighting in the frontlines.

"Good hit, make me bleed next time." ...What? "Though, I'm surprised that you decided to visit after... what we did the last time we saw each other."

Recovering quickly from trying to process what he just said at first, you cleared your throat, crossing your arms. "The Vice Captain requested me to visit his right hand man, who am I to refuse his wishes?"

He simply hummed in response, reaching for another cigarette in his pocket and his lighter. Placing the unlit stick at the side of his mouth, his eyes caught yours once more, a slight smirk forming. "When'd you start talking like the soldiers? You forget the years we've spent together already since I've been gone, or did you finally get in trouble for treating us like equals?"

You scoffed, pulling your lips in a thin line. "You're the one that gave me an order earlier, and I've had a recent revelation that I had to start acting like a subordinate rather your friend or buddy or whatever the fuck we are, so yeah, I guess it's the latter."

"Ahh, better watch your language then or I'll have to report you for profanity against a superior." Bertolt was of course joking, the mocking tone intertwining with his words. As you felt your eyebrow twitch in annoyance, the sound of lighter clicked and ignited, your eyes watching him pull the flame near.

"Y'know..." He started as he took in a drag, leaning his head back towards the ceiling and soon exhaling the smoke out slowly. "I've been thinking about you the entire time I was gone."

A heaviness plopped itself back on your shoulders, and you wanted nothing more but to excuse yourself out of his premises. You were about to say something to leave him alone, but he kept on talking, droning on and on about how he was counting down the days when he could finally see your face again. Bertolt mentioned that you were the only reason he kept on fighting, why he kept on killing so his commanders could see that he was doing such a swell job as their loyal Titan holder and let him leave early. What a horrible ideology, most of those people could've been innocents.

"And another thing, I kept thinking back on the kiss we shared that month ago." All the color drained from your face, turning and taking a step back to try and run, but felt his hand grasp onto the fabric right against your back. His voice had the same disdainfulness as before, a demandingness that you didn't even know he had in himself to project.

"Don't leave and turn back around. That is an order."

You grit your teeth, finally turning back around once he let go of your uniform and find him standing, his tall stature hovering over you. Nervousness crawled up your spine, flinching once you felt his cold fingers reach over to caress your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, inspecting your features quietly before taking another drag of his cigarette. He then neared your face and press his lips against yours.

Recoiling at the abrupt kiss, you tried to push him away but the grip on your face was painfully tight, almost akin to the hold on your wrist earlier. You could do nothing but endure this assault, a slight whimper slipping out as the soreness of your face grew.

Bertolt's tongue brushed against your lips, trying to coax you into opening them. You might as well obey, just to get this over with and the fact that you were running out of oxygen at an alarming rate. Once you did, he pushed the smoke in your mouth as he deepened the kiss, the burn in your lungs and in your throat getting worse. In a panic, you bit down as hard as possible to free yourself, the taste of iron combining with the bitter nicotine. You quickly doubled over and started coughing, watching in tears as vague smoke came out of your mouth with every heave and breath.

"Ah." You peered up at Bertolt from within your teary vision, the tips of his fingers on his lips and pressing against the wound you inflicted. It was deep from what you're able to see, but already started to heal itself. Yet, that's not what at all made you run out the room in distress, almost vomiting into the bushes once you stepped foot out of the building.

You watched in mortified horror as he smeared the crimson around his lips and chin, a seemingly euphoric and satisfied expression reflecting on those pale green eyes of his. He looked down at your frozen form, crouching down and reaching over to your face with his bloodied fingers. A small whimper slipped out as he smeared the substance on your mouth, a hungry grin forming.

"Isn't this a beautiful sight? My blood on your lips, I wonder if I can make you bleed for me soon." It felt like he wasn't supposed to say it aloud, but maybe he wanted you to hear, to have a taste of what his true self was like. That thought alone made you run out, leaving him on the ground once again.

This time, you had to make sure you'd never see the sick fuck ever again.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

And this brings you back to the beginning, in Reiner's home completely agitated and frightened for your life.

The past few months, Bertolt resumed his normal duties along Reiner and you; although you limited your interactions with one another, you can’t help but notice that he was following you everywhere. Not just at work, but the times where you were on your breaks, going out to eat, shopping for groceries or clothes, even in your own home; you saw him. You barely caught him sometimes, he'd disappear in a blink once you tried to get in a second glance to confirm who you saw.

He lingered behind corners, staring at you with such a frightening glimmer in those dull eyes of his. He was usually expressionless as he stared into your very soul, not a single crooked smile or the usual slight upwards curve of his eyes. Nothing, absolutely nothing. And the strangest part was that he never said a word, just... stared. Sometimes he just stood there right in the public's view, crowds of people passing besides him without a single glance towards the weirdo in their way.

There was nothing you could do about it, he wasn't technically bothering anyone and due to the internment zone being rather small, they already knew that he was associated with you. How unfair it was. You wished you could live like them, ignorant and dismissive of the monster that stood right next to them.

Him being right outside of your window was your final straw, the lamplight just barely highlighting his features as he stood in your backyard. You screamed and backed up into your dining room table once you realized that he was right against your window, pressing his hand against the glass as his breath began to fog it up. His eyes were crazed, the first time you ever saw anything in them after weeks of ignoring him. You flung the drapes over the window — as if it could do anything to protect you — before running upstairs and hiding in your closet for the rest of the night.

If he was able to sneak up on you, to be that close without you noticing… what else has he done?

"He's being a fucking creep, Reiner. If it's not him trying to figure out that I'm some kind of double-crosser, it's him being some kind of perverted stalker." He snorted at your remark and you could tell that he was not entirely convinced. You took in a shaky breath, finally putting down your foot.

"Then I would like to request that I leave the Warriors unit and work somewhere else. I don't care where and if I have to move, all I want is to never see Bertolt ever again." Reiner's expression suddenly hardened and he pushed himself off the wall, leaning on the table opposite of you. You've never seen him quite as serious until now, unease filling your stomach.

"You do realize that we cannot protect you once you leave the unit, right? The only reason you're alive still is because of us, Y/N. Anywhere else in the other units, the generals and commanders will watch you like hawks for any mistake you make, minor or not. They would use any excuse to have your head." His hand rested on your shoulder and squeezed it firmly, checking his surroundings before leaning close into your ear.

"Look. I know about Bertolt's strange behavior, trust me, I've already noticed he's been off ever since he came back from that recent excursion. I don't know if I can convince him to stop doing this to you, but I mean it when I say that you're better off staying in our unit." He then leaned back and lightly smiled for more reassurance; a part of you felt that it was the scout in him that was talking and that made you feel a little better.

"We're all you got in this world and your best chance for living. C'mon, just give him one more shot." This wouldn't be happening in the first place if you left me back in Paradis, you thought bitterly but hesitantly nodded your head.

"Okay, fine. But you better get it in his head that I don’t want him stalking me anymore or I’ll report him to General Magath and leave the unit, no matter what the consequences are." You got up and headed towards the exit, turning your head to see him slowly push in your seat. He noticed that you didn't leave yet and lifted his hand up, almost waving goodbye.

"No promises," Reiner held up his pinky, slightly wiggling it. "But I'll do my best."

You scoffed, but smiled regardless.

"Then whatever happens, it'll be on you."

The next day continued on as usual, something normal for once as both Reiner and Bertolt weren't in today. You thought that they must've gotten deployed to another war since you hadn't seen any of the other Warriors either, but you continued work as usual for your shift. Even if you weren't required to, you might as well lighten the load for you the next time around.

By the time you were done with half of the stack, you finally called it quits, seeing that the sun had began to slowly set behind the towering buildings right outside of the windows. Clocking out, you slung your satchel over your shoulder and pushed past the doors, quietly walking back to your home. Now that you started to think further during your trek, it's strange that you didn't get any notification from Reiner about their sudden leave. He'd always gave you some kind of heads-up even if you didn't ask, either through a note or in person.

Was this something so serious that not even you can know about? That would make more sense, you're technically just an underling to them, you didn't need to know more confidential information from the Marleyans as a Paradisian; not like you wanted it or had any use for it anyways. The orange glow of the sun began to fade, the sky slowly turning darker by the minute as lamplights started to flicker on right on cue.

You were so close to home that you started to pick up the pace, a feeling of anticipation running through you. It's not like you felt scared, no. This was the first time in days that you finally felt like you didn't have to look over your shoulder, the first time in months where you didn't feel like you were being watched.

In a matter of minutes, you finally reached the front door of your home. You rummaged through your bag for the keys, taking your time as you pushed through the unfortunately crowded mess. There was no need to rush anymore, not until they come back, and hopefully Reiner was able to talk Bertolt out of his abhorrent, unprofessional behavior. Letting out a happy hum as you finally found what you were looking for, you pushed in the key and turned it open, only to be greeted with a gut feeling that caused goosebumps to immediately form on your skin.

Something was wrong. Despite everything being in their right and respective places, there was something... off. Standing still at the entrance way, you scanned the environment slowly, a lump forming in your throat as they darted to-and-fro nervously. The windows were locked, you knew they were, and none of the drapes seemed to be moved or altered from their original places. There was only one entrance and to get to the backyard, you would have to take the side fence door at the outside of the resident. You almost were tempted to back out of your own house, the one place where you've considered as the safest haven from the outside. This feeling, it had to just be that you were unused to being finally left alone... right?

You finally took a step inwards, the wood creaking underneath your boot. Mentally, it felt like excruciatingly long hours had just passed by for you to get another step, internally praying that your mind won't play tricks on you from the various sounds that were occurring in the considerably old home. There's nothing or no one here, you're just being a paranoid baby.

Exhaling slowly, you finally shut and locked the front door behind you. Repeating the phrase over and over gave you confidence to continue forwards, determination in your eyes. You'd be damned if Bertolt thinks he could scare you out of your own home, you'd rather go to prison than try to stay at his home for temporary shelter.

You lost your appetite to prepare a simple dinner, now knowing that you'd prefer not to try cooking something when you've just arrived in fear for your life. However, you carefully made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a knife out of the wooden block. The sound of the metal sliding out of its sheath may have been the loudest thing you've been currently hearing. You gripped onto the handle tightly, turning towards the stairs.

You knew you weren't alone here, the house may settle now and then, but this felt different. This was different. No matter what your brain was telling you, your gut was telling you otherwise.

Crrreeeaaakkkk...

You froze, feeling suddenly out of breath as you stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. The sound came from your room, there was no doubt about it. A memory of Bertolt trying to secretly make breakfast for you flashed into view, the sounds of pans clashing below waking you up. You should've questioned how he gotten in the house in the first place during the earlier stages of this thing of his, but you were far too hungry and tired to even notice until now.

In meticulous steps, you made your way to the staircase, trying to make sure you didn't step on the wrong board and alert the intruder of your presence. Hell, he might've already known since you unlocked the door. The hallway never felt longer than it was before as you approached the room, the moonlight shining down on you and the weapon held in your dominant hand. There was more creaking the more you came towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest in the rhythm of a thousand Abnormals sprinting towards their next delectable meal.

The door was slightly ajar, alarms ringing in your head. You never have left the doors in your room open in your life, especially when sleeping and even when you left the premises. Someone is in there and you know who it is. Taking in a deep breath, you leaned in gradually towards the crack in the door, trying to control the trembling in your hands as you peeked through.

The stench of blood first hit your nose, then the sight within nearly made you scream in horror. Bertolt was in your room, sitting on the middle edge of your bed, all bloodied from head-to-toe what you were able to tell from the street's lamps dully illuminating the surrounding room. Though that was stomach-churning in itself, the action he was performing on your bed made everything even more heinously depraved.

The bastard was fucking his fist with your panties wrapped around his cock, his pelvis erratically jutting into the tight hold he put around it. His lips were slightly parted, almost barely audible groans slipping out with every stroke. Even worse, you could hear just the cusp of your name with it, your own face growing warm.

You had to report this to General Magath, now. Burn your bed and used underwear once you got the chance to second on the list. Reiner failed, maybe even never went up to him, and now you had to take the drastic way out of this. He finally took things way too far; if not your underwear, it might’ve been you.

You took a step backwards, immediately paling as the floorboard behind you squeaked loudly under the weight. The movement from within your room paused abruptly, anxiety and dread crawling up your veins with every passing moment. The sound of the bed springs being relieved of any weight on them immediately alerted you that you needed to start running or hide until he leaves. It was too late, the door opening with a grinding, crackling noise.

"Welcome home, Y/N."

Bertolt lunged at you, instincts kicking in as you swung the knife, aiming for his throat. You knew it wouldn’t kill him, you’ve seen Mikasa do it years ago and he healed without any trace of the injury left, but it would give you enough time to get to Magath’s residence. At least, that’s what you tried to do, but he moved last minute, the blade only digging into the side of his face towards his mouth.

He was stunned by it at first, a nauseating feeling permeating within your stomach as you watched the skin and muscle separate as he opened his mouth, blood streaming down his jawline in thick streams. Then he started chuckling, pressing his hand against the wound roughly and almost pulling it apart. This was no time to stay shocked however. You took this final opportunity to run, carefully trying not to cut yourself as you made your way down the stairs.

"Y/N!!!" Oh god, oh god, oh god. You reached the entrance, turning the lock and pulling it open, the cold air of the night blasting in your face. Freedom was right there in your grasp — just right there — before a thickly drenched hand from behind grabbed ahold of you from the mouth and pulled you back inside.

You couldn’t scream as his bloodied palm held firmly down onto your mouth, tears streaming down your face as he lodged himself right between your legs. He was crazed, his pupils dilated with excitement as he stared down at your quivering form. You could the hardness straining against your uniform pants, a sob stuck in your throat. The inflicted wound on his face was obviously starting to heal, steam coming off of it.

"Good try, too bad you aren’t strong enough to even try to finish the job." He took the knife out of your hold, his blood still staining the edges. Bertolt neared it towards your throat, your body fighting back as it approached closer and closer.

"Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep moving like that." He scolded, as if he wasn’t the one with the weapon, the cold blade right against your jugular. You froze on cue, taking in sharp breaths with your nose to try and not to panic even more.

"You weren’t meant to see me uh—" His face flushed pink, scratching his uninjured cheek with his pointer bashfully. This bitch was acting like he didn’t just break in your home, committed a perverse act on your bed, and about cut your throat open. Bertolt slightly adjusted himself, rubbing his still-hard cock against you. "But it was pretty exciting, how long were you watching? Did you get excited?"

You wanted to shake your head, only flinching as you felt him unbuckle the belt, nimble fingers unbuttoning and zipping down your pants. You had no choice but to feel him slip his dirtied hand into your underwear, his fingertips pressing against your hole. A proud smile grew on his face, a vast contrast to your horrified expression as the two of you made the same realization. You’re wet.

Bertolt pulled the knife away from your neck, short relief coming out of you in waves, but he didn’t drop it or throw it aside. No. He used it to tear your uniform shirt open, a muffled yelp escaping you as the cool air made contact with your bare skin.

"We’re going to have some fun together, okay?" You felt like throwing up in his hand, hoping that you’d asphyxiate from it. Your heart stopped as you realized that he was nearing the tip of the blade on your lower stomach, right below your belly button.

"Right after I carve my name into you."

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, DDDNE, Yandere themes, mental manipulation, obsessive behavior, allusions to violence, blackmail, angst, masturbation, Tyler Stone is also a warning lmao

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Yeah, after a million years, it is me! I'm sorry it's been so slow to update, y'all; things have been... *A lot*. Seems like every time I get a one-up something else happens, like my dad being in and out of the hospital for example.... As I stated in my previous post, this story won't be continuing for much longer!

Part 3

Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua @peterbparkersburger @tojishugetiddies @aisyakirmann @itslariette0 @xxeclipze @oharasfilipinawife @amber-content @ixanne2006 @miguels-aranita @scaleniusrm @stopxplease @blueapplesiren @ruexvn @jadeloverxd @theitchbbbb @realifezompire

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Pt. 4

You had gotten so used to the quiet and privacy of Miguel's mansion that you weren't entirely sure how to handle when the infamous Tyler Stone dropped by for a visit. You certainly didn't enjoy the energy the man put off, nor the looks he would send your way as you "entertained" him until Miguel arrived home; having sent word to Lyla that he arrived.

You noticed that even Lyla seemed uncomfortable with Tyler's presence, her holographic avatar was actually fidgeting when you looked at her. Whatever went on between Miguel and Tyler must not have been very good, judging by how perturbed Lyla was with the older man.

"So... You're the little mouse that my boy Mike has hired, eh?" Tyler grinned, swirling the wine in his glass around as he watched you wipe down and clean the bar. You were well aware of his eyes tracing the entire shape of your ass as you kept your back turned to him.

Yes, having him leer at you wasn't enjoyable... But you preferred it if he looked at your ass instead of your chest or face. Something about that man's gaze made you very uncomfortable; it wasn't at all like with Miguel. You felt safe with him... Even if sometimes he came home from work with the energy of a man ready to catch a criminal charge. You had chalked it all up to the stress of running Alchemax; and now, having his former boss just show up out of the blue while he was gone...

How the hell did Tyler Stone even get in? You assumed only you and Miguel had the passkey to get in. So, how--

Tyler grinned once again, tapping the rim of his glass with one of the gaudy rings on his fingers, catching your attention once again. "Well, sweet-cheeks?"

You grit your teeth and turn, giving him your best sweet smile, "Ah! Right, yes, sir. I'm Miguel's housekeeper."

"And a damn fine bartender..." Tyler hummed, downing the rest of his wine in one swift gulp, licking his lips of the excess as he eyes you up and down once again. "In fact, I'm thinkin' about snatching you out from under my boy... What do you say? Your job will come with all the perks I'm sure Mike holds from ya... A nice fat check..."

His hands constantly groping you...

Your shoulders stiffened, his offer making your blood curdle; "I--"

"She's off-limits, Stone." Miguel's deep voice rang out from the threshold.

You sighed with relief, looking over at him, holding back a shocked gasp. Miguel looked... Disheveled. His face was sweaty, chocolate locks stringing around his forehead, droplets of sweat rolling down his sculpted cheeks.

He straightened his posture as he stalked towards the bar, casting you a soft look before focusing his attention squarely on Tyler, the look in his eyes from behind his red lenses just exuded one word: murder. You almost swore Miguel was about to reach out to snap his neck, until Tyler clasped Miguel's larger hand in his, shaking it with a laugh.

"Ah, don't be so serious, Mike." Tyler laughed like Miguel wasn't currently staring daggers through his skull. "I was just proposing a business deal with your lovely little maid, here!"

"You wouldn't be trying to poach my own employee from me, would you, Stone?" Miguel asked, his voice relaxing to a more soft pitch; his body language still tense but not so aggressive. You could tell there was some definite bad blood between the two men.

Your fingers fiddled nervously with each other at the obviously thick tension in the air, "Miguel..."

"Ah, don't worry, querida." Miguel assured you with a smile, his gaze softening once it landed on you. "Tyler and I need to have a private discussion. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off..."

You nod, swallowing hard. Something was off, but you weren't willing to risk pissing Miguel off in any way, despite how gentle he seemed with you, even in the face of the former CEO of Alchemax. You quickly placed your cleaning supplies in the cabinet and scurried out of the room, closing the doors behind you.

Tyler didn't fail to notice how Miguel tracked your movements from the corners of his eyes as you left, and a shark-like smirk made his lips quirk dangerously. "Oh, now I see why you're not so keen to let me take her from you."

Miguel scowled at the older man, "Why the hell are you here, Stone? Don't bullshit me."

Tyler pressed his hand over his own heart, feigning innocence. "Why, Mike! I would never bullshit you, my boy... Wouldn't dream of it, in fact."

Miguel glowered, his temper already short from dealing with a troublesome Kraven variant that wrought havoc in another universe, plus an "incident" in one of the labs at Alchemax. Tyler's sudden manifestation was testing his patience.

Oh, he had so looked forward to coming home, having a nightly drink with you... maybe work some aggression off. Maybe he could have convinced you to help...

But now, that little fantasy faded in the light that was his sperm donor's annoying fucking mile-long smile. That stupid fucking face that reminded him so much of his own, sometimes he couldn't stand to look in the mirror.

"Don't play coy. Tell me why you're here."

Tyler raised his thick brows, his forehead creasing from the slight wrinkles, there. "Mike--"

"Miguel." The tall man hissed.

"Mike." Tyler corrected, pouring himself another glass of wine. "I've heard you've been a little distracted, lately. A little... scatter-brained. So unlike you. I came to see what was bothering my boy in his personal time--"

"I'm not your fucking child, cabrón." Miguel snarled, breaching Tyler's personal space and standing almost nose-to-nose, "Now stop. Fucking. Pontificating."

He sighed deeply, frowning softly at Miguel's "mood". Oh, how he hated when he got like this. Too uppity for his own good, too ambitious. And after what happened between them... rather dangerous.

Oh, if he only knew how dangerous he was...

"Fine. I checked your financials and saw you had arranged a payroll to a rather cute houseworker." Tyler peered at Miguel almost boredly over the rim of his glass. "As well as some purchases for very small cameras, a number of which happen to be waterproof..."

Miguel felt the hair bristle on the back of his neck. Tyler had.... He had implanted a bypass-shunt program into his personal files? Without Lyla picking up on it? How the fuck did he manage that?

He must have hired someone to do it. He had to have hired someone to do it!

His fists clenched and his jaw tightened microscopically; but Tyler seemed to pick up on it anyway as he casually sipped his wine.

"Oh yes, I've been keeping an eye on you. Can't let my most promising progeny be left to his own devices for very long, now can I?"

"You--"

"How often do you spy on the girl, hm? I imagine watching her undress is rather titillating." He smirked, "She has a very nice body... Almost wasted just being looked at..."

Miguel grabbed Tyler by the collar of his 10,000-credit suit, bunching his fists and lifting him off the stool, sending some of the wine splashing from the glass and onto the bar top; snarling Miguel spits at him. "You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me, Tyler? If you so much as lay a pinky on her, I will--"

Tyler laughed, completely unfazed by Miguel's aggression. "Careful, now, Mike... Wouldn't want some evidence of your little Rapture addiction slipping out and making its way to your pretty little doll, no?"

Miguel snorted, his nostrils flaring as his face heated up. He dropped Tyler back in the stool, turning to stomp away, his fists balled and chest heaving to control his rage, just barely controlling himself enough to avoid burying his talons in the meat of his palms.

Tyler sighed, downing some more of his glass, "We wouldn't want the public finding out that the great Miguel O'Hara was a junkie, now do we?"

His head was abuzz; adrenaline pumping so hard through his veins, he could feel that primal urge to just reach out and snap Tyler's neck. Hiding or disposing of the body would be easy enough, concealing any other evidence would also be a snap. Unfortunately, if anybody knew he was coming over to Miguel's...

Fuck. Tyler also probably had some kind of implant to contact emergency services in the event his heart stops or he's severely injured. Then, Miguel would obvious be a shoe-in for a brand new jumpsuit; not one of his own design.

The multiverse would suffer, another Spider-Man demonized by the public for murdering a man who outwardly appeared somewhat decent...

Then, it felt like a tension wire snapped; realization dawned on Miguel as clear as a sunny summer day.

Tyler was baiting him. He wanted him to snap.

He wouldn't give in to his cheap taunts.

Miguel forced his body to relax, reaching up to slick back a stray strand of hair, and turns to give Tyler a cool smile, "Well... if that were to happen... I would have to tell them where the Rapture came from. How you used it to control me, manipulate me, threaten to kill me."

Miguel felt sick glee at how Tyler's smile instantly fell, and the Hispanic man tipped his head to the side, his smile eerily calm.

"Oh... You thought I didn't have evidence of that? Now, imagine how the public will react when news of me being your illegitimate son--the result of a disgusting affair--gets out?"

"You--you wouldn't." Tyler spat, throwing the wineglass to the ground and shattering it, the red liquid running out to pool around it, soaking into the grout in-between the tiles like a thin, watery pool of blood.

"Your mother would be--"

"I don't give a fuck what Connie deals with. She's had her dose of karma a long time coming... and it's honestly only fitting that I be the one to deliver it." Miguel sneered, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Tyler swallowed, glaring up at his own flesh and blood like it was Hercules fighting the lion. Only... it was up to anyone's guess who would emerge the victor of this bout.

But... He knew that Miguel was much larger, much stronger, faster--younger...

It was an uphill battle and he currently had a bullet wound to his knee.

So, Tyler Stone relented in the seething rage that was Miguel O'Hara. He adjusted his coat from where Miguel has mussed it before, wiping up some of the wine on the counter with his handkerchief before tossing it to the floor indignantly.

"Very well, Mike... I'll leave your little toy alone. But... do be careful enough to take care of your toys in the future. Don't want to forget what happened to your last girlfriend..."

That slight sting didn't hurt as much as he'd hoped, Miguel merely jerking his head to the side, his lip curled in an irritated snarl. "Get out of my house."

As the smaller man began to walk briskly out, he gave Miguel a smirk over his shoulder; "Y'know, my boy... some stuff really is genetic. You don't realize just how much like me you really are."

Miguel scoffed, his body finally relaxing as he turned to clean another one of Tyler Stone's messes, wiping the bar you meticulously cleaned for him clean, tossing the piece of cloth into the nearby trash bin, and turning on the little disc-shaped cleaning bot to clean up the shattered glass and suck up the wine.

"Lyla." Miguel sighed as he took off his sunglasses, his hand shaking as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, boss man." She greeted hesitantly. "Whaddya need?"

"Find out how Tyler got into the system. How he got past you. I'm going to upgrade your code later with stronger firewalls, too." He said, staring at her flickering avatar.

"Yeah, believe me... I don't like him getting past me. It feels... gross. Violating." She shuddered.

Despite changing her programming to see the logic in his words by default, Miguel was emotionally attached to Lyla. For a long time, she was his only true friend. She was there for him after the Rapture incident...

And to now watch as Tyler had essentially brute-forced his own program onto Lyla felt akin to some form of assault on her; one of his greatest creations to date.

But... the shreds of his conscience began to thread together as he remembered you. The cameras, the stalking, having Lyla be hypocritical and spying on your personal business...

"You... You know everything I do is to keep her safe--both of you safe, right, Lyla?" He asked softly, staring down at the little robot as it chirped as its cleaning cycle was finished, returning to its charging dock.

"Well, yeah.... I saw the crime reports... saw how that guy probably would have killed her... and... well." She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked up at him, a brow quirking upwards. "I mean... the cameras are just as good for safety, right? Like how people put baby monitors in their kid's room, or to spy on the nanny. Keeps her from getting hurt even where she should be safe..."

Miguel smiled warmly at her. Yeah... she was programmed to see his logic, but... hearing it made him feel much better.

"Thank you, Lyla. Let me know if anything goes wrong with her personal stuff, alright? I want to make sure Tyler isn't spying on her, too." He turned to begin leaving the room, "I'm going to work this adrenaline off. Make sure my Pequeña Ave is relaxing like I told her to, hm? When you're not busy sorting through the bullshit Tyler pulled, that is."

"Can do, boss!" Lyla chirped happily, giving him a little salute. "Have fun gettin' those reps in!"

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You couldn't find Miguel in his office, the lounge, his bedroom, the bar, at the pool... the only other place you could think of was his small gym.

He didn't seem to have had a good day at work, and Tyler's presence only seemed to worsen it when he came home. You wondered what exactly happened between them to make their relationship so hostile in the first place...

But, you shoved that curiosity to the side. You decided to try and give Miguel a little pick-me-up. You remembered the story he told you of he and his little brother sneaking off to enjoy their snack of mango and chili salt.

You cut the mango in half, pulled the large seed pod out of the middle, and halfway sliced the halves into little cubes; and finally sprinkled on the chili salt. Afterwards, you placed the snack on a tray with a nice, ice-cold bottle of his favorite sports drink. If he was in the gym, he would definitely need to replenish some electrolytes after working out.

As you walked down the hall, you noticed Lyla's avatar following you. "Hey, Mamacita." She said. "I'd steer clear of the boss. Mr Stone-head reeeeeeeally made him mad."

You wiggled the tray a bit and gave her a smile, "That's why I'm bringing him this, Lyla. Snacks do wonders for mood improvement!"

She tilted her head, taking a moment to respond. "Oh. Right. Good idea, actually..."

You noticed her seemingly distracted nature today, which was almost unheard of for the AI. "You ok?"

"Yeah, going through my files before Miguel puts in a new update for me tonight. Gonna get me a niiiiice makeover, program-wise." She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "I'll be pretty indisposed however; one, from going through my millions of lines of code, and two; he's gotta put me out while he works on me."

You chuckled, "Ah, well I'll leave you to that, then. Hope the update goes well."

Lyla gives you a snarky salute before her avatar disappears as you near the gym. As you reached the arching threshold--no door, you noticed some time ago; he apparently liked a bit of an open floor plan when it came to that--you could hear the sounds of him grunting, huffing, and swearing. It sounded like he was working hard.

You round the bend and open your mouth to announce yourself--until you see why Miguel was really making those sounds.

His back was to you, shirt abandoned on the floor by the dumbbells. He sat in his boxers, pants discarded the same way his shirt had been in favor of working out almost entirely naked.

Or, well.... maybe it started with him working out--until he went to the weight bench and it devolved into something else entirely.

The mirrors lining the opposite wall gave you a perfect view of him despite him sitting with his back to you. His boxers were shoved hastily down to his thick thighs, leaning on one hand as his other one slowly stroked up and down his rigid, leaking cock. Miguel's head was tipped back, his eyes closed in frustrated pleasure, sweat making his body shine as though he had almost appeared oiled-up. His usually well-kept hair was messy, tacking to his forehead and scalp with thick layers of sweat.

The sight immediately sent a throb down to your core; heat roiling and pooling low in your belly and had you biting your lip in equal parts mortification, shame, and arousal.

He grunted, grinding his teeth as he tipped his head down again. You quietly jumped back out of sight as he looked down and opened his eyes, growling as his hand circled the head of his dick before twisting and stroking back down.

"Fuuuuuuck." You heard him sigh. "That's it, bebita... fuck, I'm close."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you imagined who he could possibly be picturing in his mind's eye; what dream woman he probably had at his feet, between his legs, worshipping the thick shaft he stroked in his hand

You pinched your thighs together, feeling your arousal already begin to soak through your panties, threatening to breach the fabric of your pants. Your face heated up, flushing with color as the sounds of him pleasuring himself assaulted your ears in the all-too quiet house. Hell, it felt like he was being so loud, his sounds of self-pleasure drowned out the blood rushing in your ears.

You couldn't contain your curiosity, and peek around the corner again. Miguel had his eyes closed again, a blissful crease prominent on his brow as he bucked his hips in time with his hand.

You watched as he snagged his plush bottom lip between his teeth, his face twitching as his hand jerked faster, the thick precum dripping down his cock and coating his fingers, assisting in the glide as he fucked his own hand, his release imminent.

You squeezed your legs together even tighter, taking care not to jostle the tray in your hands and not make any noise that would give you away.

This was... wrong. You should turn around, and leave your treat to him in the kitchen for him to find on his own. You should...

You swallowed the gasp that wanted to come from you as he muttered something to himself, something you couldn't quite make out--before the thick ropes of his cum spurted from the tip of his cock.

Continuing to stroke and pull, to lengthen his orgasm as long as possible; to ride the high further, Miguel rolled his head back with a gutteral moan, his cum splattering on the floor mats below him, his legs trembling.

As he began to even his breathing out, you turned and as quickly and quietly as possibly rushed back down the hall to avoid being caught--and maybe attend to the pressing matter that stained your panties.

Miguel however--

Miguel knew you were there. He could smell your perfume as you made your way down the hall, hear your soft footsteps and conversation with Lyla.

He grinned as he looked into the mirror, his eye tracking where you had once been peeping in on him. He could smell you the moment you got wet; hear the way your heart thudded in your chest as you spied on him.

He had been edging himself; not intentionally of course, but with how frustrated and angry he was, Miguel had been dancing on the edge of a climax for most of the time. Until he caught your scent, the smell of your wet little cunt filling his senses and making his mind buzz with his budding orgasm before driving him over that peak.

He wondered what you thought of the sight. You were aroused, certainly. You very much liked what you saw. He almost hoped you would walk in, and offer your own soft, sweet little hands to stroke him to relief.

But ah, you were a polite girl. Scurrying away like a frightened little mouse before getting caught and possibly pissing him off.

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh as he grabbed his sweat rag from beside him, wiping at the mess he made of himself. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but smile.

Maybe getting into your head was going to be easier than he anticipated.

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Part 5: I have no idea Imma be real with y'all

[lees-chaotic-brain]

JJK Men Getting Jealous

Feat. Gojo and Megumi

CW: Random guys being creeps, harassment, attempted kidnapping (or so he thinks), reader has female pronouns and anatomy, light swearing

Part Two | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo Satoru

The two of you were enjoying your date at the park when Gojo received a phone call. Normally, he would have ignored it, but you forced him to, telling that he needs to take care of his responsibilities. After all, you loved Satoru as he was, but the man needed to grow up a little.

Stepping away, he turned his back and answered the phone, immediately trying to weasel his way out of whatever assignment he was needed on.

Meanwhile, you were seated on a bench and scrolling through your phone when a street photographer approached you.

"Excuse me?" A young man was looking at you hopefully as he held up his camera.

"I'm a street photographer, and well, when I noticed you sitting here I just knew I had to capture your stunning looks for my portfolio. So would it be okay if I took your picture?"

Flattered, but a little uncertain, you replied.

"Well, thank you, but actually I'm just waiting for my boyfriend-"

He cut you off.

"Oh don't worry! This will only take a second!"

Stepping up to you, he reached out and brushed your hair back with his fingers.

"What-what are you doing?" You ask nervously, leaning away from his touch.

"Just brushing your hair back from your face! Can't have it covering those stunning features of yours now can we darling?"

He winked cheekily.

Finally finished with his call (he had managed to dump the assignment onto the three first years), Gojo turned around, ready to bask in your presence and affection.

Instead he witnessed an unfamiliar man moving his hands to your chest brushing off your shirt and smoothing the fabric.

Pausing, he took a moment to try and comprehend what he was seeing.

Then he saw you flinch and swat his hands away.

He was by your side in an instant.

"Please stop." You said firmly. "My boyfriend-"

"Is right here!"

Gojo interjected cheerfully, swinging an arm around your shoulders and using his other arm to push the photographer away as he sat next to you.

"Why don't you take a picture of me and my girlfriend?"

He suggested menacingly, looking at the man over his glasses.

"After all, don't you think we make an absolutely stunning couple?"

Needless to say, the photographer snapped a couple quick pictures of the two of you before speeding away.

"Thanks 'Toru."

You said, sighing in relief once the man was finally out of sight.

"No problem! After all, he was touching my boobies."

To emphasize what he was saying, he turned and buried his head in your chest.

He peeked up at you with puppy eyes.

"These are all mine, right?"

"Of course babe."

You laughed, and stroked his hair.

"They're all yours."

Megumi Fushiguro

While the two of you were shopping with Nobara and Yuji, you saw something that interested you and you wandered off.

Noticing that you were missing, Megumi split off from the others, and went to search for you.

Finally finding you, he couldn't help but to smile a little, because you were just so damn cute.

You were happily wandering around a manga store quietly humming to yourself as you browsed.

Moving to join you, he was shocked when a guy around the same age as you guys snuck up behind you and put you into a chokehold.

Were you getting kidnapped in front of him? He was speeding up, ready to give the guy a beatdown he wouldn't soon forget, when you flipped the guy over your shoulder.

The guy twisted gracefully midair to avoid being slammed on his back, and landed smoothly on his feet in front of you. You shot your arm up, ready to strike, but the guy easily caught your wrist.

"I told you to stop using that move, it's too predictable."

The guy said, shaking his head at you.

Pausing, you looked up at the guys face for the first time.

"TAKESHI?!"

You shrieked his name, and launched yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You big dummy! What was that for?! You scared the shit out of me! But never mind that, I missed you! What's going on? Why are you here?!"

Laughing he spun you around.

"Whoa. Slow down. I missed you too idiot. I missed my sparring partner and was just checking to make sure that you were keeping up with your training!"

He batted his eyes innocently as he set you on your feet.

"After all, my mom would kill me if I left her beloved unofficial daughter unable to defend herself in the big city! What if you got mugged?!"

Unable to suppress your smile you pinched his cheek.

"You just did that because you wanted to scare me. Jerk."

"Aw, you know you love me."

"Ahem."

You both turned to find your unimpressed boyfriend staring at the two of you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Striding over to you, Megumi wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, giving the other guy an once over.

"I'm Fushiguro Megumi. Her boyfriend. Who are you?"

Takeshi gave you a fake wounded look.

"What? But I'M her boyfriend!"

Blinking at him, Megumi frowned.

"What?"

Stepping out of Megumi's grasp, you walked over to Takeshi and cuffed him over the head.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DATING THAT YOU ARE MY BOYFRIEND!!"

"BUT I AM!!"

"YOU ARE LITERALLY GAY!"

"AND!?"

"AND YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND OF YOUR OWN!!"

Poor Megumi just stood there in shock. After the two of you worked it out with a quick wrestling match (you won) and stopped screaming at each other. You and this "Takeshi" explained that you were childhood best friends, and that Takeshi was just a jerk who liked to mess with your love life.

Needless to say, Megumi spent the rest of the day pouting, and needed lots of reassurance cuddles that he was way better than Takeshi, and you would never leave him for him.

"You would never leave me for him, right?"

"Of, course baby. He's just a friend. I love you so much more than him."

"But you love him a little bit?!"

"GUMI. HE IS LITERALLY GAY AND HAS A BOYFRIEND."

Thanks for reading! Should I make a part two with Toge and Yuji? Let me know!!

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Xavier: Lazy Mornings | Drabble

I totally meant for this to be posted yesterday...but then one of my homies got me into FFXV and legit played that all night. So anyway, my third 10-minute drabble. I'm actually going to start working on Rafayel's batch right now and write maybe one or two of them before I gotta get ready for work.

Pairing: Xavier x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Waking up to something burning normally wasn’t the ideal way of starting your morning. Especially not when you noticed how the man who was normally passed out right next to you until who knows when was currently not in bed. The two things combined had you jumping out of bed in only your underwear, all but sprinting to the kitchen in a panicked haze.

As you suspected, you could see Xavier in the kitchen wearing one of your favorite aprons. He seemed to be trying to cook bacon, but in the frying pan it looked almost charred. He had his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he slid off the desecrated food onto a plate and looked it over. That’s when he finally noticed you in the doorway, looking at him in horror.

“What’s goin on?” It came out as more of a slur as you let out a loud yawn. You covered your mouth and noticed how your eyes seemed to water. You really were tired and you couldn’t place why. Xavier glanced at you, those cerulean puppy dog eyes were big as he almost seemed to pout at being caught.

“I got hungry so I thought I could make us some breakfast.” He finally said and you looked him over then back to the pan. “I also thought maybe I could bring you breakfast in bed for once since I woke up early…” ah there it was. Now you couldn’t be mad at him.

You shook your head as you walked over to him, your hand reaching up. It looked as though you were about to cup his cheeks, but instead you opted to pinch them, making Xavier flinch back in surprise. Before he could get too far though, you were dragging him down to your level and planting a kiss on his lips.

Your arms snaked their way around his waist as Xavier seemed to melt against your lips. Your fingers delicately played with the strings of the apron and you easily untied it and parted from his lips, using your hands now to take off the next piece. Once the apron was gone you tossed it on yourself, tying the back piece and smirking.

“I’ll get us some breakfast, you just sit there and look pretty.” You said with a laugh and Xavier was now actually pouting after realizing he had gotten played by you.

“Can’t I at least help?” Those giant eyes looked at you as he seemed to almost be begging you with them. It always set your heart beating faster than it should and you had to hold strong so you would have a kitchen by the end of the morning.

“How about you crack and whisk us up some eggs. I want to make a breakfast scramble.” You finally said and Xavier didn’t seem happy with the meager chore. His lip jutted out in a pout and gosh it was so hard to say no to him when he was begging.

You grabbed his cheeks with both hands, squishing them and watched as his cheeks turned red. His own hands went over to grab onto yours, but you didn’t let up, “Behave, Xavier.” You scolded him. He knew just what he was doing when he gave you that look, “I want something edible this morning for breakfast.”

Xavier huffed and rolled his eyes; the hands that were trying to pry yours off now went to your waist, dragging you closer as he pressed another kiss to your lips. He spoke against them in a soft voice, “I truly can’t do anything else?” he was testing you this morning it would seem.

You pushed him back gently and smiled, “You really can’t. Now get the eggs ready, babes.” you pat his chest once before parting, walking over the fridge to grab what you needed.

“Fine…but I’ll make breakfast next time then.” He muttered.

“Like hell you will…”

So anyway...tomorrow Infold has a Livestream for what's essentially Season 2 of LADS. Anyone gonna be watching it? Imma have to literally wake up at 6am to catch it.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi, are there any recommendations you have for me for my writing process? My process is extremely long because I keep getting stuck. Got an idea for a conflict, okay. Stuck on fleshing that out. Eventually done. Stuck on my characters, who they are, and their roles. Finally get that done. But now I need to figure out backstory. Stuck. Figure out the plotline/solution to the conflict. Stuck. It's MONTHS between these steps of writing a story. I'm on the verge of giving up...

Slow and Clunky Writing Process

Please don't give up. The world needs the stories only you can tell. ♥

There is so much information out there about plot, story structure, conflict, goals, outlining, backstory, plot points, pacing, theme, character arc... blah, blah, blah... it can get incredibly overwhelming, especially if you can't seem to get to point of actually writing the story.

Having said that, I think it's so, soooo important to know that you don't actually have to worry so much about that stuff at the beginning.

The truth of the matter is, your first stories are probably not going to be the stories you publish. That doesn't mean you can't publish them, it's just that most of us will write two or three, maybe four or five stories before we write one that's good enough to share. As a result, what typically happens is you get a little bit better at all of those things (conflict, pacing, character arc, etc.) with every story you write. Keep learning about those things as you go, and try your best to incorporate them into each story, but you shouldn't be looking for a level of perfection that they hold you back.

Think of it like this: if you decided you wanted to build your own home, you wouldn't read a bunch of blog posts and books about home construction, maybe take a workshop or two, and then start building, expecting to build a house you could actually live in. Instead, you'd probably start by building some smaller structures... maybe a dog house, a patio with pergola, maybe help a friend split a big room in their house into two rooms. You'd take on smaller projects to put your budding skills to use and practice them. Then, when you got really good at everything, you might be ready to build your house.

Writing is the same way. You can't take all of that information and pour it into a perfect, flawless story in one go round. It's too hard, too overwhelming, and you never get a chance to actually hone your budding skills.

So, start by just writing the stories you want to write... just for fun... just to practice your skills. Don't worry if your conflict isn't perfectly fleshed out. Don't worry if your pacing is wonky or your character arc is unsatisfactory. Focus first on just writing the story. Then, you can hone your revision skills by trying to improve those things once the first draft is complete. Put the story through two or three revisions, and you're really sharpening those skills. When you go to write and revise the next story, it's going to be a little bit easier.

You'll know when you get to a point where you've written something that's publishable. You'll still need to do two or three revisions to get it where it needs to be, but the whole process will be much easier.

And one last thing: don't worry about backstory unless it's critical for helping the reader understand the world of the story, the conflict, or who the character is/why they do what they do. ♥

Happy writing! I promise it gets easier!!!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey, I've recently discovered your blog and I've been binge reading almost all of your writing lol. I love them and I honestly admire your dedication and love for MysMe, thank you so much for all your writing! Though I hope you aren't pushing yourself or anything 😭💗 I'm wondering if you have any HCs of Jumin and V during their childhood/teenagehood?

Jumin and Jihyun recount many events throughout their childhoods now and again, and sometimes I find myself laughing because there's things you don't expect them to say. Like, when they were both in the church choir and had a singing contest between one another! They're poking fun at each other because of it, and it reminds me that they're childhood friends without a doubt and even though there's a lot we're unable to see, they've always been there for each other to see this or that.

Sometimes, I like to think about Jihyun and Jumin doing homework together! It wasn't easy to do it when they were in elementary school because their families likely had them with tutors and in cram classes most, if not all of the time, on school days. But, as teenagers, I like to think Jihyun is glaring at his art history homework while shoveling his tiramisu down, and Jumin sipping tea, casually tearing through much of his calculus homework.

You'd think they would talk while they work, but that's not always the case. They enjoy each other's company, and if you actually hear those two talking, it's because Jihyun couldn't handle the way the way all of his books phrased the wrong information about something, and that presses Jumin to discuss why he thinks the information is wrong and why incorrect information would be published.

Those two could be talking for hours while continuing their work, but if you get them talking about something, they're never going to shut up. Which, is good, I don't want either of them to feel like they aren't allowed to talk at length when they feel comfortable with someone else.

But, that does lend itself to their life later on, when you hear about how casually they speak to each other when they have an evening purposefully set aside for drinks. Rika used to tell them to go to bed because they would spend hours discussing the universe and then not only would they wake up with a hangover, they wouldn't get to bed until sunrise.

The good thing about their friendship is that they find a sense of kinship in each other. Those two have the tendency to hold back unless they're with each other or their respected MC. I don't know why they feel like they have to hold back when it comes to their passion and enjoying the fine art of having communication be of language... but it's nice to see open up. Jumin and Jihyun are the type of people I would love to talk to for hours because so much of their friendship is built on the fact that they've always been able to talk to each other about anything.

That's why it hurts so much when Jihyun stops confiding in Jumin, after all.

Here's a light-hearted theory before I tell you the most painful thing I can imagine, Jihyun would drive Jumin around in his little toy car after the accident because Jumin was never allowed to drive his car again after he snuck onto the Kim property and smacked his car into the wall. That’s okay, though, Jihyun loves the wind in his hair and Jumin prefers to be a navigator. 

After the house fire, Jumin is the only one who visits Jihyun regularly. Mr. Kim doesn't bother to visit his son that often, sure, he's there if he HAS to be, but outside of that, he doesn't visit. Jihyun is in pain, he's experiencing the agony of loss after his mother sacrificed her life for his. He wishes he listened to Jumin earlier, he wishes he tried to a lot harder to listen to his Mother and do the right thing, and he wishes... the darkest thought of all, that his mother was still alive instead.

He's hurting, and that hurt silenced the once pretentious teenager who was ready to fight his professors about the meaning of modern art.

He becomes a shell of himself. He doesn't talk to people, he doesn't want to be around people, and it doesn't seem to matter how much people try to take his mind off of things, nothing makes it better. He is in so much pain all the time and it doesn't seem like the painkillers are going to make it any better.

I have always run with the assumption that his back is covered in burn scars and that's one of the reasons why he refuses to wear any clothes that reveal his body. The burns hurt a lot, and no amount of money can heal him, because it really doesn't matter if you have all the money in the world— you are not immune from death and injury. 

That being said, there's only one person who comes to visit him every day, one person who always wants to talk to him even if he's not in the mood, and one person who has always promised to be by his side no matter what's going on. It’s Jumin Han. Jumin reads to him when he visits, he tells him about what he's learned that day, he tells him a lot... anything he could think of to help. Jumin isn't the best at being comforting, he always judges if what he's saying is right, but he can't do nothing when Jihyun needs him.

I sincerely think one of the reasons why V was able to get through the brunt of his Hospital stay has to do with the fact Jumin was there for him. Jumin refused to let his best friend be alone. He was the one who told Jihyun to make things right with his mother, and he knows that no matter how difficult things were in the end, that woman was everything to Jihyun. His Mother was a kind woman, and she loved her son more than anything... enough to give her life for his. That's a sacrifice Jumin understands on some level.

It's the kind of familial love he's always read about in books because he isn't getting love at home.

Not that you should be willing to throw your life on the line at every corner for your loved one, but there is something to be said about the willingness to jump in the line of fire to protect somebody you care about in the heat of the moment. I don't know if the two ever communicated with each other about this at length, in fact, I have a feeling they didn't, but—I do believe Jumin had it in his heart that he needed to be there for Jihyun because that’s what his mother would’ve wanted.

She didn’t want her son to be alone. 

He is a family-oriented person, and I know he always tries to see the best in someone's family, including his, even if it's not easy. He is the one who tries to reach out to Mr. Kim... even as they're adults. Jumin can't help but want better for V's family. It's just like how he wants his family to be better as well.

But, I know that no amount of Jumin talking to Mr. Kim would make him visit his son more… and Jumin did what he could for his friend back then.

I've always had this mental image of V laying face down in his hospital bed and Jumin sitting by his bedside, reading a book to him as the soft hum of cicadas and heart monitor beats linger between them. It's not perfect, not by any means, but they're together and that counts.

[misstodorokifreelance]

Saw your Boku No Hybrid Academia headcanons and wanted to know if you'd do something for Shinsou and Dabi (if that's possible; if not, just Shinsou).

Hey there Anon! Hybrid Headcanons for Dabi and Shinsou? Well you must have read my mind cause I just thinking about that recently. Both of these gorgeous men are a new territory for me, but I'm super happy you've given me reason to write more of these, so lets get right into some headcanons (I also added Iida and Hawks cause they were in my drafts.) And cause I keep forgetting, if you havent checked out the rest of my lil blog here's the link for you all; https://misstodorokifreelance.tumblr.com/

BNHA HYBRID HEAD-CANONS PART 2

TW: Non/con, definitely a little smutty when mentioning ruts and stuff along those lines, oral, mentions of choking, degradation, breeding kink, and all my stuff is 18+.

DABI

🔹Hybrid: Leopard (or another big wild cat)

General Headcanons:

🔹 Dabi is touch starved to the extreme, and quite often doesnt exactly know how to handle it, coming off as a hissing, biting yet oh so regal person. He knows he's handsome, but nobody who has ever touched him has been kind, so it'll take a while for him to get used to it. 🔹 Once he's gotten used to your touch, you best believe he'll find excuses to be near you. He'll be stalking up to you like a predator and gently closing in on you until you have no choice but to give him attention and affection, and you best believe the entire time he'll be acting like you're just doing his bidding but definitely secretly like it. 🔹 He loves lounging around watching you work about the house or do whatever it is you do. He surveys everything, smugly content that in this house he's the king. 🔹 He's VERY proud of his tail, and often carries it over one arm as if it's an accessory and not his actual tail with an air of smugness. 🔹Secretly he also LOVES and I mean LOOOOOVES you washing his hair. He'll lounge back in a bath against you, purring ever so slightly as he feels for nails against his scalp while you lather and rinse his wild hair. It`s the only time he seems actually relaxed. 🔹 Dabi is super super protective of you, to the point he just kinda hates other hybrids and other humans that come near you. After enough times of you telling him not to be so aggressive, he instead will get a wicked expression on his face and push you into the bedroom as soon as any guests are gone. Whether that's just him holding you as tightly in his arms (plus his tail wrapped around you) as he can, or him going straight for wanting to claim you and put you in your place really depends on the mood he's in that day. 🔹 He's very rough in showing any affection back to you, and he has a hard time not wording everything as if he owns you. Cause that's how it feels to him; he owns you now. He'll have you backed against a wall with his teeth at your neck, or a hand ready to choke you in a moment. 🔹 He has pet names for you, when you're good, but mostly even in casual conversation with him it's a little degrading; everything from 'Little Mouse' to 'Darling' will all have a tone that makes it sound like he's above you.

🔹 He would slaughter anyone who even looked at you funny, he doesn`t care. He's even more protective of you when you're in public with him, and he will definitely spoil you rotten in front of every passer by. 🔹 Some of leopard Dabi's favourite things include; Luxurious couches to lounge on, getting his hair washed, lazy nights, leather clothes (on both him and you 😉). Spicy Head-canons 🌶🌶🌶:

🔹 Oh boy oh BOY, you do not want to be near Dabi when he's in a rut. From day one he'll be almost feral, and he wont take no for an answer, grabbing you and dragging you to the nearest soft surface so he can rut against you till you're a sobbing, sloppy mess for him. 🔹 He doesn't care what you have to do that day or where you have to be, he's going to have you on your back or on your knees and he's going to be rough and feral with you until he's claimed you over and over and over. He loves seeing you filled up, it makes him feel so smugly proud of himself. 🔹 His degradation will be at maximum here, roughly slamming against you as hard as he can and purring out little praises here and there but mostly it's all degrading. He likes it when you cry, or beg him, and he goes rougher when you do it makes him even hornier. 🔹 He's finishing inside you everytime, you better be ready for that. He's a Todoroki after all, the breeding kink is right at the forefront of his mind and he's getting you full and him milked dry at every opportunity.

HITOSHI SHINSO

🔸Hybrid: Cat

General Headcanons:

🔸 Hitoshi is a pretty laid back, if antisocial hybrid. He'd much rather just nap in your company, but he definitely appreciates his own space too. 🔸 He's very grateful whenever you bring him new blankets or cushions, setting them up wherever looks like a good place to take a quick nap, and quite often if you're not busy he may ask if you'll play with his hair while he sleeps. 🔸 Hitoshi actually quite likes helping with little chores around the house, especially sweeping or putting away groceries. It makes him feel productive, and he'll stand there quietly hoping you'll give him some affection for all the work he did just for you.

🔸 Not a massive fan of other hybrids, he at least tolerates some of them, though its from a distance. He'd prefer to not have to talk much, leaving his more conversational side for when he's with you and there's a bad reality or game show on TV you both can both judge heavily.

🔸 At night though, if you're going to bed he's going to be at your side no matter how he feels. He can't help but feel much more lonely at night, and he needs your warmth to remind him that he's got someone who loves him right there next to him. 🔸 He hates how running water feels on him, so he'll jump in a bath but he's avoiding the shower at all costs, but perhaps if you can convince him with many many MANY cuddles afterwards he'll at least sit with you while you shower and converse sleepily, and maybe dampen his hair under the splashes.

🔸 He`s luckily not a very picky eater, but he prefers to eat alone most nights, but he'll eat fast so as not to be away from you that long.

Spicy Head-canons 🌶🌶🌶:

🔸 Shinso in a rut isnt that much different than normal. He'd rather sleep through it than force you to humour his needs. He definitely feels it though, a sort of desperation to be touched, but he has a hard time explaining that so just tries to sleep. 🔸 Its a very different when he actually goes to sleep however, he's restless, tossing and turning and making quiet yowls until finally when you go to help him he wakes up, grateful for the touch and the relief. 🔸 He's rather be serviced than anything else, and likes watching you ride him in particular. He's also very into oral, it's probably one of his favourite ways to handle his ruts and he won't feel like he isn't both too restless, and too sleepy to return the favour. 🔸 One the few particularly rough days of his rut he's more awake, prowling around and just wanting to feel you against him. On these days, he has the energy to not only reciprocate but dominate you in his own way, probably wanting to be behind you and feel you on your knees backing into him. 🔸The days you aren`t there during his rut are a nightmare for him, and he'll be going around your things, especially clothes, underwear or pillows searching for where your scent is strongest and rub himself against it in a desperate attempt to relieve himself. Turns out he really does need to you to help him out, he can't exactly handle not having that as an outlet.

TENYA IIDA

🔹 Hybrid: Snake (some sorta python probably, that makes the most sense to me at least)

General Head-canons: 🔹 Tenya is the epitome of traditional and mature, always one to open the door for you, but he's not big on PDA, unless it's the odd hand holding. 🔹 You wouldn't know he's a hybrid unless you saw him without a shirt on, and he's insecure about that at the best of times, worried the scales down his back and neck are unattractive. Whenever you tell him he's handsome, he'll blush profusely and shower you in compliments of your own. 🔹 He has an uncanny ability to slip into impossible spaces (snakey boi be like.) 🔹 Tenya's calm and quiet on his own, and loves nothing more than studying quietly with you in the library or in his room with some classical music playing in the background. If it's raining even better, cause its the only time he'll pull his shirt off and let you watch the rain drip from his iridescent scales. 🔹 He likes things orderly and neat, including his own person. He'll shudder if he accidentally hisses when lecturing the more boisterous students, so be prepared to give him a tight hug when you next get a moment with him! 🔹 He keeps his bed more like a nest, curling up with cushions and blankets, all meticulously picked out, and he'll enthusiastically show it to you, wanting to hear your opinions and making any adjustments you feel are necessary. Don`t worry about thinking he needs approval, he just wants an excuse to hear your voice for a few moments more. 🔹 You're not just his Princess, his Star...you're his equal in everything. He wants you and everyone else to know that, so if anybody treats you wrong or makes fun of you they better watch out cause Tenya won't go easy on them. In fact, he'll get a bit worked up about it and won't even care if he's hissing or his irises become slits. Nobody can say shit about you and get away with it in front of Tenya. 🔹 Some of Snake Tenya's favourite things; classical music, rainy mornings, a little plushie snake Deku gave him, trips to the market or temples when he's feeling particularly traditional.

Spicy Head-canons 🌶🌶🌶:

🔹 Tenya doesn't enjoy being in a rut at all. It feels debaucherous, and he can't stand you feeling like you have to indulge him. Especially being what he is, he could get too in the mood and want to constrict you. 🔹 When he's really in the mood he won't be able to sit still, he'll be on edge, leaning up against you, wanting to twist his body around you and get his hands around your waist. He'll pull you against his body, kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings to you.

🔹 Surprisingly, Tenya would be up to switching, he doesn't necessarily want to be dominant, merely charming. He wants you to make the first moves, to touch him where only he and you can bond as one. It's like a ritual, proof of his devotion to your well being. He also is up to try new things, provided you explain it to him first and he's sure you won't be in any negative pain. 🔹 First few days of spring, when his rut gets so bad he can't even focus in class is when he finally gives up, and is writhing and tense and unable to contain how badly he NEEDS it. Needs you. He'll steal you away for a day, try to be as gentle as he can. Want to share a bath first? Want to cuddle in his nest? He'll try not to seems as desperate as he is, but once it starts be prepared for HOURS cause he's still a master of self control....in that way. It'll be long and hella hypnotic!

KEIGO TAKAMI (Hawks)

🔸 Hybrid: Hawk (duh)

General Head-canons: 🔸 Hawks likes wearing baggy clothes when he's with you, whether or not you're taller or shorter than him it's all the same. He has hidden platforms in his boots, and whenever you're out with him he'll be fluffing up his wings to appear as big as he can.

🔸He's just naturally good with people, and they're drawn to his casual laid back nature (also the fact he gets everyone hot under the collar), but he needs a recharge every once in a while. At the end of the day all he wants is to cuddle up with you and wrap his wing around you so he can keep you safe. Maybe he'll get out a bottle of wine to share as well. 🔸 Usually such a smooth talker, he'd be surprise you have him flustered. From the first stutter, you'd have him obsessed, and he'd be perching on a rooftop if you were going out somewhere new just to make sure you're safe. If anything goes down he'll take care of it and then leave you too it, unless you want him to hang around of course. 🔸 He's gonna show you off! PDA? Yeah and? He doesn't care, you're his baby bird and the whole world is gonna know it! Kisses on the cheek, nose, forehead, lips. Holding your hand or waist in front of the swooning fans gives him a little rush every time you blush cause of it. 🔸 Unless you can fly, he'll take great pride in lifting you into the heavens so you can see the world how he does. It's almost as beautiful as you from up here.

🔸He's not all laidback and chill though. If he's in the mood then you'll know about it within minutes. He's more than up for games of cat and mouse (bird and mouse?), happy to chase you down with a hungry grin on his face before scooping you into the bedroom.

🔸He's a bit restless, flapping his wings or whistling little tunes whenever it gets too silent, hoping to catch your attention. Either you'll come over at cuddle him or start humming and he'll join in. He LOVES singing with you, if that's your thing. 🔸Some of Birdy Bois fave things include; sunset flying, baggy clothes, ironically watching bad dating shows, over the top public flirting with you.

Spicy Head-canons 🌶🌶🌶: 🔸 Hawks is a dom, and not just that but he's game to get out some handcuffs or other toys to play with. You'll be tied up with your legs wide and he'll be proud parading in front of you before stalking up to give you all his love. 🔸 He's very vocal, especially if he's in a rut. The odd chirp of pleasure here and there, but mostly just really really loud moaning to the point you better hope the neighbours aren't home! 🔸 Don't feel bad if he IS in a rut, because you're so gorgeous he could just get off to you standing in front of him in pretty red lingerie. Red gets him even more turned on, its his fave colour on you. He'll be open and honest about what he needs, and he'll sweep you off your feet and shower you in affection.

🔸

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [7]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 14,007  

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of scars, mentions of a panic attack, manipulation, canon drug use, comic book science? Titans science? (author's note at the end lol), canon violence, blood, bruises, gore, breaking bones, mentions of nightmares, canon character death (I'm so sorry)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work.Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Happy birthday to Jason Todd!! So, sorry I did this for his birthday lmao I lied, this is longer than I thought it would be lol But I'm so sorry. I don't have anything else to say for myself besides canon made me do it and so did the comics lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Over the next couple of weeks, Jason continues to go to therapy as directed by Bruce. To his surprise, it actually seems to be helping a little bit. He’s still having nightmares but they aren’t every night anymore. His hands aren’t shaking as badly either. He just feels a little bit better. Maybe Bruce and you were right about Leslie.

You and Jason are doing better, too. There have been moments where he’s gotten a little too frustrated but he remembers your talk and you give him a little bit of space until he’s ready to talk. It works for the both of you. You go on dates at least once a week and you both actually feel normal during the day. It’s not about being a vigilante and figuring out how to survive.

You go out on patrol three days a week instead of six. This is Jason’s thing and you know it bothers him. You can wait to patrol every night until he gets Robin back. It doesn’t bother you that much. And this way, you get to spend more time together and exist in a normal way that you desperately craved. You are a normal couple for once.

Above all of that, it’s been good. Things have been good. And while that is terrifying, you and Jason stick it out anyway. You don’t run or push. You both want to sometimes because it’s easier but you’re both fucking happy. So, you don’t. You don’t do it because losing each other is worse than anything the other could ever dish out. Running and pushing wouldn’t do either of you any good for the first time in your lives. So, you both enjoy the happiness together. Until things come to a screeching halt.

You're in the living room, having a FaceTime TV marathon with Gar when Bruce comes home. He offers a quick hello before trying to walk off but you call him anyway. He’s home a lot later than he should be since he went to pick up Jason. It was his request you stay back this time.

“Where’s Jason?” You question.

In all fairness, you wouldn’t be asking him normally but you also haven’t heard much from Jason since his therapy session ended. He said Bruce was taking him somewhere so he would be home later. And that was kind of the end of it. He’s been doing quite a bit better so you haven’t been as worried when he doesn’t text you back right away. But now Bruce is here without him.

“In the city.” Bruce answers plainly.

“Why? You went to pick him up?” You raise a brow and something happened. Jason texted you in the car. He was fine and with Bruce.

You look at the time and see that was a few hours ago.

“He’s upset. I’m giving him space. You should, too.” Bruce states.

“What did you do?” You deadpan, pulling up the text thread with Jason.

“I did not do anything.” Bruce defends. “He’ll be home soon.” Bruce states before he walks off.

“Everything okay?” Gar asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I assume they got into some sort of fight again.” You roll your eyes. “Did he text you by chance?” You ask seeing the read receipt from a few hours ago.

Gar checks his phone and the last he heard from Jason was that morning. “No, he hasn’t texted me since this morning. What’s going on?”

You: you okay? Bruce said you’re upset what happened?

“I have no idea. He was fine earlier.” You let out a sigh, looking back at Gar through the tablet screen.

“You said he’s been better, right? Maybe he’s just blowing off steam from Bruce.” Gar suggests. Jason has shared some of the stuff that's happened and has complained a little about Bruce.

“Yeah, but if that’s the case, he usually comes to me to bitch about Bruce because I always agree with him.” You give Gar a grin just as your phone goes off.

Jaybird 🥰: fuck bruce I’m fine don’t worry

You: what happened? Do you want me to come get you?

“Well he texted me back and I was right, fight with Bruce.” You roll your eyes.

They fight sometimes, usually about Robin-related things or Jason wanting to do something reckless and Bruce putting a stop to it. Jason’s usually only a mad an hour or so before he’s fine and over it. Jason doesn’t hold very many grudges.

“Did he say about what?” Gar asks.

“Nope. Just said, fuck Bruce.”

Jaybird 🥰: no just wanna be alone still you and me love you ❤️

You: call or text every so often so I know you’re okay please I love you, too 🥰

“What’d he say?” Gar asks. He worries enough for the both of you/

“He wants to be alone and when Jason wants to be alone that is never good. But we have this thing where I let him be alone and then he tells me about it later. So, I guess I have to wait. If he isn’t home or texting me in a few hours, I’ll go look for him.” You reluctantly put your phone down. Giving Jason space is never easy.

“Think he’ll be alright?” Gar asks with worry in his voice.

“Yeah, him and Bruce fight sometimes. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad, Bruce probably just said something stupid and Jason was already in a mood.” You let out a sigh as the worry feeling gnaws at your stomach.

“Did you want to still—“

“Yeah, yeah, no. We can keep watching. He said he’ll text me.” You offer a soft smile while the two of you continue your show.

It’s not fair. It’s utter bullshit. Jason can’t help the way his blood is boiling and fuming while his hands shake. Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough to be Robin. Bruce gave up on him. Jason is supposed to be his son and Bruce gave up on him anyway but he never gave up on Dick. If Jason weren’t so weak, this whole thing never would have happened. But he’s gonna prove to Bruce he can be Robin. He can be the best Robin and he can be a better Batman, too. He just needs a little help in the fear department.

He’s desperate. He tells himself this is a one-time thing. Fear creeps in his throat, grasping to be let out in the damp air. It’s a one-time thing, he tells himself. He’s out of options if he wants to be Robin. He’s out of options if he wants to keep the most important thing in his life. All he needs is a quick fix to fear and he’ll be back out there, better than he has ever been. He’ll prove it to Bruce. Bruce is wrong about him.

Bruce thinks he’s a mistake. He thinks Jason isn't worth the trouble just like everyone else. Bruce thinks Jason is weak. He thought Jason could replace Dick and he couldn’t. Not as Robin and not as Bruce’s son. But if he can get rid of his fear, he can show him how wrong he is. He isn’t just another mistake. He isn’t weak and he’s better than Dick. He swears this will be it. It won’t be bad. He can handle this. He swears it’ll all be fine. So, he hangs up on Leslie and heads inside the gates of Arkham Asylum as rain patters around him.

He’s a master manipulator. Jason knows that. It’s one of the things he’s best at. But the desperation for a cure to fear clouds every aspect of that. The desperation doesn’t let him see why Crane wants information for the cure. He can’t see Crane’s angel in his state of paralyzed desperation. And Jason has been manipulated before. He swears he’ll know if Crane is manipulating him because he knows what to look out for this time. But, desperation and the fear of being scared forever, go hand in hand. Fear and desperation cloud everything. He tosses his loyalty from the window as he gets closer to the formula. Crane gives him a piece of it with every piece of information Jason gives him.

“Tell me about the first Robin.” Crane offers this grin that sends a chill down Jason’s spine.

“Like what?” Jason huffs.

“His name, where he is, everything you know.”

“Dick Grayson. He’s in San Francisco and goes by Nightwing.” Jason explains, throwing Dick completely under the bus. He has a problem with Dick now anyway. Dick Grayson has always been the goody two shoes and Bruce’s favorite. Jason only got to be Robin because Dick abandoned Bruce. Jason was a filler. “He’s with the Titans. He got Deathstroke’s son killed and dropped me from a skyscraper.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Interesting. Doesn’t seem to be the golden boy Bruce portrayed him as.” Crane grins and this is easier than he thought it would be. Jason has no problems rolling, apparently and Crane knows he’s going to use that to his advantage.

He’s broken. He’s desperate and Crane has the cure he wants. This is going to be easy and Crane gets all benefits. Jason lets him take down the Bat but in the best way. Crane is going to get the Bat’s son to turn on him and get rid of him. To break him. And then Dick Grayson and all of Gotham will follow. Crane finds the whole thing a little poetic. He can use him. And Jason will never see through it once he figures out the formula.

“Yep.” Jason answers simply, wanting to get this over with and Crane offers him a piece of the formula.

“The Titans. Who are they?” Crane asks, hiding the malicious intent behind curiosity.

Jason looks up to him and he doesn’t like to throw some of the others under the bus. But Crane is here. He can’t do anything. And most of them thought he was just Dick’s weaker replacement anyway. They gave up, too.

“Rachel Roth, Raven. Hank Hall, Hawk. Dawn Granger, Dove. Kory Anders, Starfire. Conner Kent, Superboy. Gar Logan, Beast Boy.” Jason pauses, waiting to see if Crane knows more.

Of course, he does. He’s in Arkham, not living under a rock. The Bat gains a new sidekick and everyone knows about it. Crane is only taking a guess the new sidekick also was a Titan based on when you showed up and your close proximity with Robin, himself. He saw Jason’s hesitance on his face. The fear.

Crane chuckles softly. “Aren’t you missing someone, pal?” Crane asks, almost a little too warmly. “Could have sworn there was one more.”

Jason grits his teeth and he’s so sorry.

When he came up with this plan, he had a feeling Crane would want information. He came prepared for it. Part of that preparation was leaving you the hell out of it. Not you. Crane can’t know about you. Anyone but you. But he does know. He already knows you're a Titan and he already knows you work for Bruce. Jason has no choice if he wants the formula. And he is so sorry.

Jason says your name with bitterness on his tongue. “Bluejay. She doesn't really like the name thing though.” Jason answers.

Crane has a soft smile. “She’s the new bird. So many of you are birds.” Crane chuckles. “I do find it interesting you would try to leave her out of it. She’s the new edition to Batman. Let me guess,” Crane boasts around his cell. “Your girlfriend.”

Not you. You've done everything you can to save him and help him. He loves you. Not you. Anyone but you.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just friends.” He bites the words because maybe Crane doesn’t know for sure you’re together and he wants you at arm's length.

“If you want the formula, you really shouldn’t lie to me.” Crane has a sinister smile. “You wouldn’t leave her out of it if you were just friends.” Crane lets the words fall with ease.

He’s so fucking sorry.

“Yeah, okay fine. Girlfriend.” Jason spits.

He knows you’ll never forgive him if you find out. You can’t tell Molly anything but he’s here telling Crane everything. You're going to hate him. But he needs a cure. He can’t feel this way forever. He can’t do it. He doesn't think he’ll be able to live like this anymore.

“Ah, young love.” Crane smiles with that shrug of his shoulders. You're going to be an interesting obstacle in this one. He’s already trying to protect you from this. Crane knows he needs to break that bond as fast as he can if he wants this plan to work. “I want to know about her.” There’s this look that crosses Crane’s eyes and Jason almost turns around.

But he doesn’t.

“Why? She’s not with the fucking Titans and she hates Bruce. She works with him because of me. That’s it. She got a suit out of it and a place to stay.”

“I’m a bit of a romantic, myself. Love stories are cute. Always having someone on your side, through thick and thin. It is quite romantic, don’t you think? If we’re going to work together, I want to know why she’s so important to you.” Crane grins. “You can trust me, boy. We want the same things and the way the Bat has treated you…it’s so cruel. But I, I believe in you. That’s why I’m helping you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You're going to kill him. Guilt chews at his limbs. His jaw squares and he thinks swallowing his own teeth would be easier than this. But he has to. Maybe Crane is being sincere. Jason thinks he is. At least enough. Maybe if Jason tells him enough, Crane will see you aren’t a problem. Maybe he’ll see you would side with them. You want Gotham to be better, you don’t agree with Bruce’s ways. Maybe Crane will understand. He’s helping Jason, maybe he can help you. You're scared, too.

“Dick found her.” Jason answers reluctantly. “She joined the Titans. We went after Deathstroke together. Got kidnapped and dropped from the skyscraper. Dick saved her. CADMUS attacked her, Gar, and Conner when I was gone. Dick left them alone when shit hit the fan. CADMUS left her for dead. So, she came back to Gotham.” Jason explains.

“She was there with Deathstroke.” Crane lets out a sigh and like Bruce, in a way, he can always tell when someone could need him. Someone who’s been traumatized. His intentions aren’t as pure as Bruce’s. “But Dick saved her and not you. Did you save her?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Jason shakes his head. “Dick tried to save me first and dropped me. Then he saved her. But yeah,” Jason nods. “I protected her and she did the same shit for me.”

“The two of you went through something so traumatic together. That really must have brought you closer. It’s not as romantic as I was hoping for but it is quite nice.” Crane grins. “She has powers, doesn’t she?”

“Acid generation.” Jason stares, leaving out the combat clairvoyance and the possibility of you having sharp shooting abilities. Two things Crane can’t prove Jason lied about.

“Now that is interesting. Does she know you’re here right now? Asking for my help?”

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “Look, she’s got nothing to with this shit. But, I can get her on our side. The other Titans targeted me for all types of shit I didn’t do and she was the only one on my side. She’s not a fucking problem. I can handle her.”

Crane grins and that’s all he needs. Jason is already hiding something huge from you. The distrust will be there and Jason doesn’t know Crane’s whole plan. If it goes the way he thinks it will, it’ll break your relationship. He will have no one left besides Crane. Exactly how he wants it. So, he decides he’ll let Jason think he believes this whole thing and moves back to the Titans.

“I do hope you’re right.” Crane sighs. “Tell me everything that happened in San Fransisco, with all of the Titans.”

Jason lets out a sigh before he spills every piece of information. He tells him everything from Trigon to Deathstroke to CADMUS. He tells him about the Titans turning on him for something he didn’t do, you talking him off the roof. Dick's confession and Donna’s death. Everything.

Then he tells Crane everything he knows about Bruce. The manor, the Batcave. Everything. He tells Crane about his training and the cabin, how Bruce found him and how Bruce found Dick. He spills and Crane lets him talk. Crane listens a lot but asks questions where he finds needed but he mostly just lets Jason talk as Jason keeps you out of it as much as he can. Jason is far more cooperative when it comes to everyone else.

Crane figures once he figures out the formula, he can get more information on you and use it against him if he needs to. He can’t have anyone if this is going to work and Crane knows exactly how he’ll be able to accomplish it. But for now, it’s about the Titans and Bruce. By the time Jason finishes, he’s got the formula tucked away in his pocket, ready to let fear go.

Jason pulls his phone from his pocket once he’s far enough away from Arkham. He’s spent the walk running over every lie he could tell you. Guilt eats at him with every step he takes. You're gonna kill him. He’s gonna lie to you because he knows for a fact, you’ll freak out. You’ll think he’s gone off the deep end and you’ll tell Dick. You’ll drag him kicking and screaming out of Gotham. You’ll tell Arkham and he won’t be able to see Crane again. It’s not fair and it’s not right. But you can’t know. And a part of him finds that to be unfair, too because he’s gonna fix his fear while you have to suffer with yours. That’s not fair to you. So, he thinks.

Maybe he can figure out a way to bring it up without bringing it up. Maybe he can try to see how you’d feel about a way to get rid of fear. If you seem for it, then he can tell you. He can see if you want to help. But the more he thinks about that, the more he thinks about Crane.

You’d have to be involved with him. Jason doesn’t want you involved with him. Not him. And he knows, the second he tells you about Crane, you’ll lose it. Even if you want a cure-all. You’ll bail the second you hear about Crane. You would never work with a guy like that. So, he has no choice. It’s that or end it and he doesn’t want to do that either.

“Hey.” Jason says as you pick up the phone.

“Jay? Where are you? I’ve been texting you to make sure you were okay.” He can hear your worry and he thinks maybe the anti-fear drug will make him not worry. Maybe you don’t want to worry so much.

“I’m sorry.” Jason clears his throat. “I needed to clear my damn head. I’m fine. Can you come get me, please?”

“Yeah, of course. Where are you?” You answer and Jason can hear you rustling on the other end.

“I’ll text you the address.” Jason states. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” You hang up and get to your feet while Jason texts you the address.

When you reach Jason, he’s soaked. Your heart aches, feeling like it’s being squeezed right through your rib cage at the sight of him. He looks exhausted and lost. He looks distant and he is drenched from the winter rain. Something bad happened and you have no idea how you're going to be able to help.

You take off your helmet, not getting off the bike. “Jay, are you okay?”

Jason gets up from the curb and walks up to you, offering you a fake smile. “Yeah.” His jaw clenches and he doesn’t even want to go home. He doesn’t want to see Bruce. He’d rather be outside in the cold. “All good.”

“What happened?” You reach out but Jason dodges you, reaching for his helmet. A lump grows in your throat. He doesn’t dodge you. Not like that.

“Bruce took Robin away.” Jason’s voice cracks as he shakes his head.

He dodges your stare. He doesn’t want to see the look you’ll give him. On the one hand, he’ll feel guilty. He’ll feel guilty for lying and talking to Crane. And on the other, you’ll give him a look that screams pity and that is the last thing he needs. Jason Todd doesn’t need anyone’s pity.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“Like fucking permanently. He said I can’t be Robin anymore.” Jason lets out a bitter scoff as he feels the anger come back to his bloodstream.

“Jay, I’m so sorry.” You say softly.

You never thought Bruce would take it away like that. Jason has been doing everything Bruce asked him to do. Ever since the Pete Hawkins thing, Jason has backed off entirely. He is putting a real effort into therapy, really trying to let the process help. Why would Bruce rip it away from him?

“Fuck him. I’m gonna fucking show him he’s wrong. He's fucking wrong about me.” Jason grits his teeth.

“He is.” You nod your head. “Come on. Let’s get you home and warm and we can talk more, okay?”

“Whatever.” Jason scoffs, popping his helmet on before he gets on the back and holds onto you while you drive back to the manor.

You get Jason back to the manor and into a warm shower. He says almost nothing. It’s as if he’s completely numb and it breaks you to see him like this. Jason is anything but quiet in a shower with you, usually. And he’s always handsy and cheeky. But, tonight, he’s just quiet, going through the motions, stuck on his own head.

You don’t understand how Bruce could take Robin away like that. It’s not fair. Jason does what Bruce asks him to and he messes up sometimes but that’s normal. How does he not see Robin is the most important thing to him? You even told him that. And he took Robin anyway. He never should have let him be Robin in the first place if this was something that could happen. Dick almost killed someone and he didn’t take Robin from Dick. Jason tries his best. Why isn’t that good enough for Bruce?

Dick was always right about him.

Jason plops onto your bed, his eyes red and puffy. His heart feels like it’s being crushed by cinderblocks. It all hurts. How did he really let another person down? How was he fooled into believing Bruce was different than everyone else? He thinks about his dad. His dad wasn’t a good person but Jason, sometimes, wonders if it was him. Maybe it was his fault his dad was like that. Maybe it was different before him. His dad didn’t choose to be his dad. But Bruce chose it. And still is giving up on him. Jason is Bruce’s son by choice, he thought the choice of picking a son, would make it different. But it’s the same old story Jason hates retelling.

He fucks up and people give up.

“Want me to rub your back while you tell me about it?” You offer as you stand in between his legs, looking down at him.

Jason looks up at you and you always worried so much. He wishes he could be better so you wouldn’t worry about him. He wonders why you choose him. You don’t have to, like Bruce. But you do. He wonders if one day you’ll stop. If his mom and his dad and his uncle and Dick and Bruce all chose other things over him, why wouldn't you? But he looks up at you and you give him this soft smile with your fingertips brushing his knees with care and he thinks you're still different than everyone else.

Jason cracks a soft smile. “Yeah, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course.” You smile softly.

Jason switches to his stomach, facing the TV just as you did the first day you started your friends-with-benefits situation. You sit on top of him and run your hands over his back. Your hands are cold, sending goosebumps up his spine. Your hands are always cold, something he always finds a bit ironic given the acid generation warms your hands. But your fingers are soft as you trace over the scars on his back. You do it every time and he always meant to ask.

“Why do you do that?” Jason asks, his eyes closed with his head on his hands.

“Do what?” You ask as you start rubbing his shoulders.

“Trace the scars.”

“I dunno.” You shake your head and you didn’t realize you did it often enough for him to notice.

You're not even sure why you do it. It’s something mindless. Maybe it’s your subconscious wishing if you trace them enough times, it’ll remove the damage the scars have caused him, like a magic eraser. Or maybe tracing the scars is confirmation he’s real.

Sometimes, you have a hard time believing he’s real. All of this is real. You used to dream of a life outside of the basement, sometimes they’d feel so real you could swear they were. Wishful thinking.

Maybe you trace them as confirmation that the raised and paled skin is real, Jason is here with you and you're not dreaming. Maybe you like the way the scars look on his skin but he managed to pull through all of his terrible shit and make it out the other end with a smart mouth and a heart of gold anyway. Maybe, you just do it because you care about him regardless of the scars and what made them.

“Does it bother you?” You ask softly.

“No.” Jason answers. “Just wondering.”

It always makes him feel vulnerable, a harsh reminder he is not invincible as much as he likes to believe he is sometimes. He might have survived those injuries but they’re there as harsh reminders. And you touch them and he thinks maybe you find comfort in them, because you have them, too. And that’s always enough for him. He thinks it makes him feel human and real and alive. He always feels a little exposed but it’s become comforting with you.

“What happened?”

He thinks he has his lies in order. He knows he might be sabotaging the relationship. Despite everything he thinks as you massage over the scar on his back, he knows. He knows you might not forgive him. There’s always a chance you won’t be so understanding when you inevitably find out because you always figure him out. But it's a risk he has to take.

He can’t keep doing this anymore. He can’t keep not sleeping. He can’t keep shaking and freezing. He can’t keep living like this. He knows he can’t. It’ll destroy him. It’ll be miserable. The idea of going back to being useless and not good enough and a disappointment, he can’t live like that. He needs help now, before Bruce finds his replacement. Maybe you’ll understand that part.

“He fucking said he made mistakes and I guess I’m fucking one of them.” Jason scoffs from under you.

You narrow your eyes thinking Bruce didn’t actually say that. You have no faith in Bruce to communicate worth a shit given your conversation with him and given Jason and Dick. And Bruce might be very good at hiding his emotions, but you know he actually cares about Jason. You don’t think Bruce would ever tell Jason he was a mistake, even if he thought it.

“He said that?” You ask, pausing for a few seconds.

“Basically!” Jason groans. “And he doesn’t want to make more mistakes and he said I can’t be Robin anymore. He thinks I’m a fucking mental case. He doesn’t care it’s important to me. He doesn’t care that I’m doing what he wants me to. It doesn’t matter to him. It’s fucking bullshit.” Jason’s voice shakes as his back tenses under your palms.

“That’s not fair. I don’t know why he would do that. You were always a great Robin.” You say softly.

You wish you could have heard the conversation so you would know better what to say. But, you also know, even if Bruce didn’t say any of that and it came out wrong, it wouldn’t change anything for you to decipher it for him. At the end of the day, Bruce could have outright told Jason he loves him and he doesn’t want him to die and Jason would still be absolutely crushed with Robin being ripped away from him. Bruce’s delivery of the message doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.

“Just fucking tired of being scared.” Jason lets out a defeated sigh. “Fucking gave up on me. Ya know, thought he was fucking different.” His voice is etched in pain and you wish you could take it all away. He never deserves the pain he gets.

It’s honest. He can be honest with you about that. Maybe he wants you to figure it out.

“Yeah, I get it. Being scared really sucks. You’ll get better though. I know I keep saying it but it takes time, Jay. Bruce should be giving you more time.” You say. “I’m really sorry about him.” You lean down and press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “You still have me, okay?”

He knows. He’ll always have you. Somewhere inside of him, he knows. The anxiety of you freaking out and leaving when you figure it out is there, but he also knows he’s given you every opportunity to take off and run. And you never do. You’d understand his desperation. You'd understand why he lied. He knows he still has you.

“What if there were a cure for fear?” Jason asks and he’s glad you can’t see his face. You’d know.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow.

“What if there was a cure? Like we can just take it and not be scared anymore.” Jason listens carefully, feeling your hands pause on his back. He knows without looking that you've got your right eyebrow raised at him, your eyes narrowing at him as if you can’t decide if he’s joking or serious.

“I mean that’d be great, but there would be consequences, right?” You question.

You're a little concerned with the question. But, that’d be insane. It’d be insane for him to really look for a cure to fear. You swear he’s just talking, doing one of his hypothetical talks he does like you do about the zombie apocalypse.

“Like what? Being fearless sounds pretty fucking good right about now.” Jason scoffs.

“We’ll, fear is just adrenaline, right? But that fear also keeps you looking both ways before crossing the street, it alerts you when someone is following you home. Without fear, also means you won’t have excitement. You’ll probably be emotionally numb to a lot of things. Not having adrenaline is dangerous though.” You answer.

“Yeah, but isn’t that fucking better than being scared all the damn time? You’re afraid of everything, too and your nightmares are back. You wouldn’t want something to stop it?” Jason looks over his shoulder.

Your nightmares came back a week and a half ago. You and Molly were on a walk and ran into Jerry’s Gotham house. You still don’t know how you missed it, but you did. You were walking and having a good time and you saw the house and that was it. You broke and it’s like all of the progress you made over the last few months evaporated into the atmosphere. Molly had to call Jason because you were having a panic attack and couldn’t snap out of it. The nightmares came back that night.

“Of course, I would.” You shrug.

You think about it and maybe it would be nice. If nothing else, just so you could get some damn proper sleep. So, you both could get some proper sleep. Maybe if you both got some sleep, you’d be better. Maybe Jason makes a good point but then you think about how happy you are when you see him and when a new movie comes out and your marathons with Gar. You wouldn’t want to trade those feelings for being fearless.

“But not if it means getting rid of everything else. Adrenaline also keeps us alive. I’ve been numb and that’s worse than being scared. Why?” You ask. “You trying to find a cure to fear or something?”

“No.” Jason scoffs, letting out a fake laugh and he was really hoping you’d be on his side with this one. “Just fucking saying, wish there were a cure. At least so I can be Robin.”

“Look, it sucks, Jaybird. But I don’t think the answer to being Robin is being fearless. You had to use that fear to survive out there, too. You’re gonna be okay and then you can go out and be your own hero. You don’t have to be Robin. Dick quit and became Nightwing. You don’t need Bruce to help people.” You say. “And I still think you’re plenty good enough. I’m just saying, if Bruce won’t let you, do it yourself when you get better. You’re good enough.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason sighs. “Maybe you’re right but he doesn’t believe in me anymore.” Jason says and you know it’s never your approval he’ll need. And that’s okay but you wish sometimes, like tonight, it were enough. “I’m gonna prove him wrong.”

“Good, fuck Bruce.” You smile softly. “Just…give it a little bit, okay? Keep seeing Leslie, too. She’s been helping.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Jason huffs.

“I’m serious, Jason. You do sleep more now. Seeing her is helping, just keep up with it. And then we’ll go out together. Fuck Bruce. We’ll be our own team.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“Thanks.” Jason lets out a sigh.

You make good points but his mind is made up. He’s going to do this. He doesn’t have time to wait around and hope for the best. He isn’t going to Leslie. He’s going to make the anti-fear drug and he won’t be scared anymore. Maybe you're right. Maybe he’ll be numb to everything but he doesn’t care anymore. He is desperate for a cure. He needs it. Maybe he can only use it to be Robin, just to prove himself. It’ll be a quick fix and that’ll be the end of it. Just use it out there and to sleep. You make good points, but he has to do this. And he is so sorry he has to lie about it.

Jason turns from under you so he can face you and you place your hands on his chest. You have a soft smile and he feels so guilty but you’ll understand. You’ll get it when he can function better, it’s just until this whole shit wears off. You’ll get it. If anyone will, it’ll be you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” Jason places his hands on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing softly against your bare skin.

“You and me.” You smile softly.

“Yeah.” Jason smiles looking at the necklace hanging from your neck. You haven't taken it off since he gave it to you. “You and me.”

“You okay?” Your voice is filled with love as you ask. No one ever asked like that before.

“Yeah.” Jason answers simply. “Just glad you’re here.”

“You sure? I’m really worried about you.” Your brows knit together. “You know I’ll always be here. No matter what.”

“I’m not gonna walk off a roof, I swear.” Jason’s eyes widen as a grin tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Good. I just know this is bad for you. I just hope you believe me because I believe in you.”

Jason sits up and places his fingers under your chin. “Thanks. Look, I’ll be fucking fine. Trust me. I got a plan.” Jason offers you a grin.

“That’s still mildly unsettling coming from you.” You smile. “What’s the plan?” You widen your eyes as your hands come to his shoulders, a teasing smirk coming to your lips.

“You’ll see.” Jason drops his hand to your waist.

“Oh, you’re not gonna tell me?” You laugh.

“What’s that you always say?” Jason teases. “We don’t always get what we want.” And he says your name, it comes out a little groveled but his voice is teasing.

“Shut up.” You groan.

“Do you trust me?” Jason asks as his hands squeeze your hips softly.

“Of course, I do. You know I do.” You answer.

“Trust me then. I got a plan. I’ll be back out there and proving everyone else wrong.” Jason holds his head with confidence.

You raise a brow at him. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that?” Jason and plans aren’t always a bad combination but he is desperate and hurt right now. You remember the last plan he had when he felt this way.

“Don’t. I got this. Like you said, I’ll be fine.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips.

“Right yeah, you will be.” You let out a sigh and you think it can’t be that bad. He’d tell you. “Okay. You’ll tell me through, right?”

“Of course, you and me.” Jason gives you a wild grin.

He hopes you won’t be mad.

The next day, Jason rents an apartment and sets up to work on making the anti-fear drug. ?You had plans with Molly anyway and that was the perfect excuse for him to get here all by himself to get to work. Plus, Bruce had to go out of town so that's one less person he has to worry about.

He feels guilt gnawing at his stomach like a bad stomach ulcer. But he works anyway. He works through it because this is the only way. And even if he wanted to back out, he already told Crane everything. If he wanted to back out, Crane could use that information against him. But, he doesn’t want to back out anyway, so he pushes the guilt and anxiety away as he puts together a botched drug.

You grow suspicious over the next few days. Jason is making weird and random excuses not to hang out. He’s always trying to get you to hang out more with Molly or for you to head to Excellent Gotham and get to know Tim better. You always need more friends, apparently. Normally, you wouldn’t think too much of it. Or you’d be worried he was distancing himself to leave. But it’s Jason and he’s definitely hiding something, so you follow him one day.

Your phone rings as you hide in the alley beside the building Jason walked into.

“Hello?” You ask.

“Why are you following me?” Jason asks.

He caught onto you following him a few blocks from the apartment he’s been using. He was Robin and a street kid, he knows when someone is following him. And he feels bad about it. For you to follow him, you have to be really worried. He doesn’t track you unless you get kidnapped and you don’t track him on his phone. You don’t follow each other. But you are. And he needs to find a way to assure you.

“I—“ You pause. “I-I’m not following you.” You scoff.

“Yeah, you are.” Jason states as he walks through the opposite end of the alley.

“Why do you think that?” You raise, crossing your arm across your chest.

“I can see you.” Jason answers, pulling the phone away from his ear as you jump, turning around to see Jason.

To be fair, you should have known he'd figure it out. But, you tried to be subtle and keep a far enough distance away from him. You put in a lot of effort. He's just more vigilant than you are, apparently.

“Oh, hey, Jay.” You give him a cheeky smile with a nervous laugh. “Whatcha doing?”

You might be following him. You might be figuring it out a little sooner than he'd personally like. But, he does find it a little cute. And a little amusing you really thought Jason wouldn't figure it out.

“Walking, what’re you doing, babe?” Jason quips, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You sigh in defeat. “Following you.”

Jason lets out a hearty laugh. “No shit. Why?”

“You’ve been…weird, sneaking around. Worried about you.” You groan as you scrunch your nose.

He's really not trying to worry you. He doesn't want you to worry about him anymore. Even if you would be completely against an anti-fear drug, a part of him thinks maybe if he has it, you won't have too many reasons to worry about him anymore. The way Jason sees it, he was always better off with less fear. Maybe the drug helping him, will help you. In a roundabout way.

“You don’t have to worry. I’m just working on something, alright?” He’s giving you that toothy grin that is always trouble.

“Right…that’s not nearly as reassuring as you think it is.” You quip back, the smile falling short.

“It’s a surprise, alright? Don’t worry so much.”

“A surprise?” You raise a brow.

“A surprise.” Jason echoes and it’s not technically a lie. “You said you trust me.”

“I do.” You groan. “I’m sorry. You just never sneak around. It’s weird, even for you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek and maybe you're being paranoid. You've always been a little on the paranoid side, especially since Jerry. And the paranoia decided to come back in full force with the nightmares. Maybe you're just paranoid, more worried about losing him. Things have been good, between you at least, you always get scared when things are good for too long.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders. “I’m fine, babe. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Promise?” You ask.

“Promise.” Jason nods.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking his arms off of your shoulders and holding his right hand. “Just…whatever you’re up to, be careful.”

“Always.” Jason beams, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You sigh, kissing him softly.

“Love you.” Jason grins, walking past you.

“I love you, too.” You watch him walk off and you really have a bad feeling about this one. But you can’t follow him and you have no reason not to trust him. So, you let him walk as you head back the way you came.

The next day, Jason gets the formula right. He uses an inhaler to take it and every fear he has ever had, melts away. It works. He did it. He got his cure to fear. So, he heads back to Arkham, high on the drug to confirm to Crane he got it despite the shotty formula.

And Crane already had a plan in motion. He had a feeling Jason would figure it out. So, he set up a plan and it’s time for the plan to go into motion so they can make Gotham theirs. Crane needs Jason to prove it works. What better way than to have him face off with the Joker alone? That’ll surely prove it. But, what Jason doesn’t know, is that Crane knows the downside to life without fear. Of course, he does. He’s the expert in it. Crane already has someone on the outside ready to handle it when this does not go the way Jason thinks it will. But is it perfect for Crane, another thing to hold over Jason’s head to control him.

And Jason doesn’t see the motive. So, Crane tells him to go after the Joker to prove it works and prove to the Bat he can do this. Jason doesn’t need Bruce. He can take care of the Joker all by himself. Jason, lacking all apprehension and self-preservation thanks to the drug, agrees easily. He’s not scared of him.

That next night, Jason convinces you to run out to the store. You were talking about needing some supplies for your scrapbook. You're reluctant at first, but decide to go. It’ll be quick. And Jason gets to work tracking the Joker.

But, with Jason at home, something just does not feel right to you. You make it all the way to the store, hoping the feeling will it go away, but it doesn't. So, you decide to call Molly, maybe Molly can talk you down.

“Hey.” Molly chimes through the phone.

“Hey, you busy?” You ask as you sit on the bike outside of the store.

“No, what’s up?”

You pause. It’s eating at you. Jason was weird as fuck last night when he came home and he’s been weird today. Convincing you to go to the store was weird. Him not coming with is also weird. And you have that feeling in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn’t have left.

“You….uh, I don’t know. I think I’m having a bad feeling so I just…need to talk I think.” You shake your head, the helmet weighing on your head a bit.

“What’s going on? Where’s Jason?” Molly asks.

“Home.” You answer. “I went to the store, he didn’t wanna come.”

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good. Not, uh, not what I wanted to talk about actually.”

“What’s going on?”

“Uh…do you…you know when something bad is gonna happen like really bad and you just….get this feeling? Like…right in the center of your stomach?”

You think you're being paranoid. It only happened once when your mom died. But since Jerry, you're always paranoid and the feeling comes back. Sometimes it’s wrong. Sometimes, it’s just you being paranoid. And you know that’s what this has to be because what could possibly happen to Jason at the manor?

“Yeah.” Molly nods her head because it happened with her mom. She just knew. “You have that feeling?”

“Yeah…I don’t know. Sometimes it's wrong. But it just…I don’t know. Feels bad.” You let out a sigh.

“When did it start?”

“Right before I left. Like, I got on the bike and I just….I don’t know. I think I’m gonna go home.” You shake your head and you can go home. You can always come back tomorrow.

“Are you sure? I mean...what if it’s a coincidence? Two’s a coincidence.” Molly tries to assure you.

“Yeah, I know but….what if it’s not? Can you stay on the phone with me while I get back?” You just can’t do it. It’s not a big deal.

“Yeah, of course.” Molly nods her head and you start the bike, taking off back to the manor. “What do you think it is?” Molly asks, mostly to talk you down.

“I don’t know.” You answer. “Jason’s been acting weird lately. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s not….he’s…something’s off with him and I don’t know why I came. He told me to and maybe I listen to him a little too much sometimes. He said he was fine but I don’t know. I got a real bad feeling.” You groan.

“How far are you from the manor?”

“Like twenty minutes.”

“Well, if something is going on, you’re not that far and you haven’t been gone long. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble.” Molly tries to assure you but it doesn’t work.

The more you talk, the more paranoid you get. You know Molly is right. He couldn’t have gotten into too much trouble in the last half hour. But you worry anyway.

“Yeah, hey, can you conference him in? Just…give me some piece of mind before I get back.”

“Yeah, of course.” Molly states as she pulls the phone away from her ear and adds Jason to the call. The two of you listen as the phone rings and rings and rings. And then goes to voicemail.

“Fuck.” You let out a scoff as panic starts to flood your system.

“Maybe he’s--”

“No, he’d answer if it were you while I’m out. Call again.” You state and Molly does as told, getting voicemail again. You shake your head and you pull the throttle back, kicking the bike into third.

“Slow down.” Molly urges. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he’s just in the bathroom.” Molly says as she hears the bike rev further.

“He’d answer. I know he would. Double calls. He would because why would you call him twice in a row unless it were important?” You argue.

You're begging for you to be wrong. You hope against everything in your body you're wrong. This one time, you have to be wrong.

“Okay, so what do you think is going on?” Molly asks.

“I don’t know!” You groan. “That’s the problem. I have no idea what’s been going on with him. I followed him a few days ago and he brushed it off. Like it was no big deal but he was sneaking around behind my back. He said he was planning something or some shit. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“You don’t think he’s like cheating--”

“No! Of course, not. He would never. I….” You bite your tongue because Molly doesn’t know about Robin. “I don’t know what the fuck he’s been doing but now he’s not answering. And I got this feeling. Hold on I’m at a stop light.” You groan, quick-dialing Jason as you watch the red light. The two of you listen as it goes to voicemail. And you try again. Voicemail. “Something’s wrong.” You say as the light turns green and you start weaving between cars.

“Because he’s not answering and you have a feeling? You sound paranoid.”

“I know.” You grit your teeth. “But he’d answer for me. I know he would. Especially calling him twice. He’d answer. I just...remember a few weeks ago when he got his ass kicked?”

“Yeah.” Molly wishes she could forget.

“Okay, so what if he went out on his own to try that guy again or something?” You spit, avoiding details about Robin because you're thinking he’s out Robining alone for some sort of spite against Bruce. He’s still mad. And maybe he froze and it got bad.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s Jason.” You let out a breath.

You get back to the manor, switching the call to your phone instead of your helmet. You make your way into the manor and call for Jason. The manor is silent. It’s not even like that’s abnormal. Jason isn’t really loud and neither is Bruce. But, the quiet and lack of Jason answering is eery and unsettling.

You search your rooms and living rooms and kitchens. He’s nowhere to be found and your heart sinks further. So, you go to the Batcave. Hoping maybe, he’s just training. Maybe Molly is right. Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe his phone died and he didn’t realize it. That’s possible. It’s Jason. He isn’t the type that’s glued to his phone. Maybe.

But that hope dies as you reach the Batcomputer, seeing Amusement Mile pulled up with the Joker’s location.

No, no, no, no.

“I’m sure he went out and he’ll be--”

“Fuck!” You yell as you look to the display case. The Robin suit is gone.

Molly calls your name and now she’s worried.

“What a fucking---” You cut yourself off as you grit your teeth. “Molly, I gotta go.”

“Molly yells your name, her voice now completely panicked.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll call you. I have to call Bruce.” You rush as you hang up, running over to your own display case holding your suit. You rip the case open and grab the suit as you put Bruce on speaker. “Bruce!?” You yell into the phone as you jump around, getting the suit on as fast as you can.

This can’t be happening. The Joker? Of all fucking people, that’s who he decides he’s going to go after to prove himself? Why the hell would he ever do that? You try your best not to focus on the millions of questions you have for him and the fact you're ready to scream at him for the twenty-four hours. You have to focus because it’s the fucking Joker. He’s taken too much from you.

Bruce can hear the absolute panic in your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Jason! I fucking told you! He went after the fucking Joker!” You scream into the phone as you zip the front of your suit and put the mask over your mouth.

“I told him not to.” Bruce says calmly, but a part of him is panicking.

Bruce doesn’t panic but there is no way you would be calling him and telling him this if it weren’t true. Jason knows better. Why would he go after the Joker? On his own?

“Oh, because Jason is so fucking good at following instructions?!” You run over to the weapons once you're completely suited up.

On the one hand, Bruce could send you after him. That’s at least, two against one. But, it’s the Joker. And Bruce knows he’s more ruthless than anyone. It’s a fun game to him like whack-a-mole. And the prize is always bloodshed. He also knows how you feel and if he sends you, not only could you go out and get killed but you could kill him first. That’s a life on Bruce’s conscious.

“Do not go anywhere. I’m on a flight—“

“No! You don’t get to tell me to fucking sit here and hope for the fucking best. He is everything to me and I am not gonna sit here and let him get fucking killed, Bruce!” You seeth and the Joker should have been killed a long fucking time ago. You swear, if the Joker even lays a single finger on him, you’ll do it her damn self. Bruce is too much of a coward of what he could become if he did it. You don’t care. “The Robin suit is gone, the Joker is gonna fucking kill him and it’s all your fault!” You scream as you gather knives.

“Stay put.” Bruce is stern on the other line. “It will be dangerous and you aren’t prepared--”

“No! Fuck you!” You snip back, gathering as many knives as you can carry. “I’m gonna save him, kill the damn Joker since you’re too damn cowardly to do it and then I’m calling Dick.” You fume on the other end. “I’m gonna beg him if I have to to come and bring us back to San Franciso because fucking clearly, he’s worse off here!” You scream before hanging up the phone and heading towards the exit.

It’s not that he’s scared or even feeling uneasy. His head is clouded with a sense of nothing. Everything is just numb as he cuts the chain into the amusement park.

Jason should be scared and there’s a gnawing at the back of his head that is screaming and howling for him to be scared. To turn around. This is a bad idea. This is bad. There are red flashing lights begging him to turn around but that sense of adrenaline that would normally kick in and give him a little bit of common sense and self-preservation is being suppressed. It doesn’t exist. So, the normally loud and blinding lights that have been causing him so much pain over the last few months, aren’t loud enough. They’re useless.

As he walks further into the amusement park, he finds old and run-down games that grab his attention. This is the Joker’s hideout. It’s known. Of course, the maniac clown would like a closed amusement park. And Jason knows he should be hypervigilant. This is the Joker’s turf and he knows the Joker is here. But the drug keeps suppressing that, too.

He knows he should be more aware and more on guard but the drug gives him a false sense of confidence. He can do this. It’s the Joker. He’s just some crazy clown and if Bruce can take him down several times, Jason can do it. Bruce trained him, right? He knows better though. He should be scared and more aware. but then there’s a noise from behind him and he jumps anyway.

His heart skips before plummeting back into a resting rhythm as he spots a dead man with a creepy smile tugged on display. Jason’s eyes widen and there’s this small, tiny bit of fear that seems to bypass the anti-fear drug like a leaky faucet. And Jason starts to hear and see the red flashing lights in the back of his head in perfect color. But the point is that he isn’t supposed to feel fear at all.

Maybe his formula is a little off. How is he feeling any sense of fear? It’s barely there, barely even noticeable but it’s there enough where if he were in a normal state of mind, that alone would send him into a panic. He’d panic about being worried he’s going to panic. And that thought with the mixing of the drug, makes him miss the creeping steps of the Joker from behind him.

With a quick swing, a crowbar connects to Jason’s head and he’s sent right to the ground.

His head throbs and aches, a horrendous and shooting pain sending his head into a spin as his stomach turns. Blood drips down from his forehead, the warm liquid seeping down his cheek as he looks up to see the menacing and sadistic smile of the Joker looking down at him just as he pulls his arm back for another swing.

This swing connects with his jaw and Jason can hear the bone break. Jason’s mouth pools with blood, the taste of iron already becoming more nauseating. He groans out in agony as the Joker takes another hit to his head, his laugh echoing through the park.

His laugh rings through Jason’s ears with every blow and Jason thinks that laugh can penetrate any type of anti-fear drug. His hearing seems to get worse and worse but that laugh could pierce through solid steel. And he’s not supposed to be scared anymore.

But the Joker hits him again and Jason coughs up blood and fear starts to rush into his veins. Maybe it’s the overwhelming amount of adrenaline making the anti-fear drug wear off a lot sooner than it should. Maybe his formula needs to be tweaked. Maybe the anti-fear drug has a side effect, maybe it doesn’t work when he’s on the brink of death. Jason can’t think straight enough to figure it out. Instead, all he thinks is that he has never been more terrified than he is right now.

SMACK

WHACK

CRACK

Jason’s bones break as Joker takes a break from his face and works on his side and then his arms and legs. He swears this is the worst pain he has ever been in. The Joker hits him over and over and over again, the pain getting worse and worse as tears brim his eyes. He claws at the ground in desperation, a failing attempt to move away. But, the bones are being broken one by one and he can feel the shards with every movement. And he is so fucking sorry.

SMACK

He’s so sorry to Bruce because he should have listened. He should have been a better Robin. He should have listened. He’s so sorry he wasn’t better. He’s so sorry he wasn’t a better son. He tried his absolute best but he could have tried harder. Maybe he could have told Bruce what was going on. Maybe he could have told Bruce more about therapy. Maybe he could have explained anything that ever happened with him. Maybe he could have just tried to be a son. He’s so sorry and all he wants to do is tell Bruce he’s sorry. And thank you.

He wants to thank Bruce for trying. For taking him in. Letting him be his son and letting him be Robin. Bruce, in his weird way, cared about him and loved him. He tried even if he sucked at it sometimes. Jason wants to tell Bruce thank you.

SMACK

Jason screams as the crowbar finally shatters one of his ribs. His breathing is becoming ragged as the Joker takes another swing to Jason’s chest. The Robin suit offers a lot of protection but the Joker is relentless. He’s getting off on every scream and groan and gasp Jason lets out. It’s as if the sight of the blood seeping onto the ground and the backswing of splatter gets him off. He’s having the time of his life beating Jason to death. And Jason has never been more scared.

SMACK

He’s so scared and sorry. He’s so fucking sorry to you and he would give anything to tell you that right now. All he wants to do is call you. He wants to take it all back. He wants to go back home and crawl into your bed with you. He wants to hug you and kiss you and promise he’s doing okay and he’ll be okay. And you’ll be okay. He wants to promise you that it’ll all work out in the end, even if he doesn’t make it. He wants to tell you not to be mad or sad because he doesn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to dwell on his inevitable death.

You both knew it was going to be him. You liked to fool yourself into thinking maybe it would be you but at the end of the day, you both knew it would always be him. Jason always knew it was gonna be him who died first. And he wants nothing more than to promise you it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t want you to run yourself into the ground over him. But he knows you and he knows as the Joker takes another horrendous and agonizing hit to his skull, you’ll be miserable. This will be it for you. He’s not gonna make it and you're gonna lose your entire mind. You always said you would. And it’s all his fault.

SMACK

CRACK

He wants to shake you and tell you he’s so fucking sorry. He should have just told you what was going on. He should have told you. You would have helped him. You wouldn’t have been mad or yelled at him. Of all people, you would have understood why he went to Crane. You would have gotten it. You always understood him. And he should have told you.

He shouldn’t have lied to you. He’s so fucking sorry. And he’s so sorry for not loving you better, you deserve someone who’s not gonna do this. You deserve someone who’s not gonna get killed and didn’t even stand a damn chance. And he is so sorry he’s going to leave you alone.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna make it.

The Joker's laugh starts to sound further away as he takes another blow to the right side of his face, the crowbar connecting hard and steady against his ear. Then he can’t hear anything from that ear at all as blood starts to drip out. It’s the worst headache of Jason’s life. He can hear his skull cracking under the blows. He feels the blood seeping through his suit and onto the ground. There’s so much blood. He’s lightheaded and dizzy. It’s so hard to breathe.

SMACK

He’s not gonna make it.

And he finds himself, hoping against all odds, that someone will find him soon anyway. Maybe help will come just in time. Bruce is supposed to be the world’s greatest detective. Jason is his son. He’d figure it out. Maybe he already did and he’s actually close. Maybe he lied to Jason and he’s actually in Gotham and on his way. And maybe, you figured it out.

You're smart. You can fight off the Joker enough to get you both to safety. You were trained by Jason, Dick, Bruce. Jason believes you could do it. Maybe you're on your way. You're smart. You know Jason better than anyone. You’ll figure it out. You always figure it out. Maybe help is coming.

SMACK

Everything goes black for just a few seconds and then it’s blurry and shifted. He can’t see out of his right eye. Jason doesn’t know what’s going on as the Joker takes another smack. His laugh is just a reverberation now. The only sound he can even hear is the cracking of bones. Nothing else. And he doesn’t think he can breathe real well. He can’t move his jaw. He can’t even find the strength to try to move anymore. It all hurts and there’s so much blood.

Jason silently begs for the help he doesn’t realize will be too late just as the Joker takes a larger and harder blow to the front of his face.

He doesn’t think he’s gonna be able to hold on.

You drive to the abandoned carnival, coming up on one of the gates. Jason’s bike and helmet are right outside and the chain to the gate has been cut. You know. You know this isn’t good. It’s completely silent and you are terrified.

Silence can’t be good and a part of you hopes that maybe the Joker wants to play with Bruce. Maybe the Joker wants to kill Jason in front of him, to taunt him, that’ll give you some time to have a plan and get you both out of there, maybe. Or Bruce could make it in time to save you both.

But you creep around the grounds, cautiously but quickly. You're paying close attention to your head, making sure you don’t miss it if the throbbing you're certain will start. But, it doesn’t. Instead, you reach an open tunnel with carnival games and there’s someone lying on the ground.

It’s dark and despite you knowing damn well if it were the Joker on the ground, Jason would be over him bragging and cheering for himself, you hope it’s the Joker anyway. You hope against everything that the person laying on the ground is the Joker.

The closer you get though, the more you get the picture of the yellow and black cape.

Jason.

“No…” Your lip quivers as you pause. You're terrified to get any closer. It can’t be Jason. It can’t be. It can’t be. It can’t be. He’s strong and smart. He knows better. “No, no, no, no…” Your voice cracks as you start to walk closer and you can see him now.

There’s blood everywhere. He’s laying in a puddle of red and there’s blood splatter on the ground and the games. A bloody crowbar is tossed to the side and Jason is completely still. Your heart is in your throat as you close the distance, dropping to your knees.

“Jay…” Your voice is a whimpered whisper as you put your hand on his shoulder, pulling him to face you.

His body is completely limp and as he turns, you get the gruesome sight of what the Joker has done.

Jason’s face is mangled and unidentifiable. You can see his teeth through his jaw while there’s blood and bruising around the other side of his face. His face is swollen and paler than usual. There’s blood smeared across his face and on his lips. Some of his hair is wet with blood and sticking to his forehead. And his eyes are closed, not even trying to open.

Your heart shatters in that instant. The weight of the world has been on your shoulders for years and with the sight of his body, the world finally falls. It tumbles around you, breaking into unfixable pieces. The foundation keeping you steady is lifeless and cold and bloody.

Your lip quivers as tears start to trickle down your cheeks. Everything around you feels heavy and cold. The lump in your throat is so big and hard, you swear it’ll suffocate you finally and you’ll finally be out of this misery. The reaper creeps back from the shadow of your head, a smile similar to Joker’s shining back at you and he’s finally won. He won in a way you never thought he would.

Killing the last good parts of you, by killing him.

“Jason…” You whimper, one of your hands hesitantly going to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. There’s no pulse, just cold skin under the blood. “No…” You whine, tears now blurring your vision. You lean down, trying to hear him breathe and there’s nothing. He’s completely still. No breathing. Nothing. Just lifeless. “Jay, please, you can’t die.” You let out a sob, pulling Jason’s body into your lap. “I love you. You can’t die. I need you.” Your words are slurred as your nose runs and the cries grow louder.

You sob, rocking back and forth. You knew it would happen. You knew. And you should have known Jason was up to something when he didn’t go with you today. You should have known. He can’t be dead.

You swallow the lump in your throat, moving to rest Jason’s head flat on the ground while you pull out your phone, hands covered in blood. You call Bruce, putting the phone on speaker and then you start CPR. You swear it’ll be useless but you have to try anyway.

You swore every single day that you would never give up on him. And CPR isn’t going to help, but fuck it, you're not going to give up. So, you try anyway. You have to fucking try.

“Did you find him?” Bruce asks as soon as he answers.

Those words get you to let out another cry, your arms shaking as you push down on Jason’s chest. “Bruce!” You scream as your arms tremble.

Everything stops for Bruce. Pain shoots through his heart like a barbed wire arrow. He knows. He knows that cry because he’s let it out himself all those years ago. He’s heard other people. Babs. Dick. He knows and yet, it can’t be true. Not his son.

“What happened?” Bruce shakes his head, using all of his willpower not to let his voice shake.

“What do I do?” You cry, your cries are loud but there’s a weakness in your voice. “He’s not breathing and the Joker beat him with a fucking crowbar! Bruce, what do I do?” You beg Bruce to help. Your voice is slurred and panicked, pleading with all of the energy in you. He’s fucking Batman, he has to help. “What do I do? He’s not breathing. There’s so much blood, Bruce, help, please. You have to save him. Help me save him, please. Bruce, I can’t lose him, I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.” You keep pumping on Jason’s chest but you swear it’s not working and not just because the Robin suit is so sturdy you're barely getting a compression in. You beg him and beg him, as if your pleas are enough to bring Jason back.

“I’ll send someone, keep doing CPR.” Bruce instructs with a square jaw.

“Bruce, I don’t…..I don’t think it’s helping.” You wail and you can’t breathe. It’s so hard to breathe. “I don’t think…..Bruce….” You let out a cough as your elbows shake and you're losing rhythm of the chest compressions.

“Keep going, don’t stop until they get there. I’m landing soon.” Bruce instructs and he never should have gone. He should have seen it. How the hell did he miss this?

“There’s so much blood…Bruce.”

Barbara Gordon and a few trusted people close to Bruce show up first. They find you still trying to perform CPR. You're slower now, and you're not getting the impact you need to make a difference. Your arms are weak and you're nearly hyperventilating and choking on your own tears.

The paramedics try their best to get you off of him but you scream and yell and cry for them to get off of you. You shove them off of you and you try and try and try. Bruce is still on the phone, telling you to let them do their job but you can’t. You can’t do it. You can’t because then you give up. You can’t give up on him. Not him.

“Hey.” Barabra wheels over a few feet away from you and she gets a look at the damage as her stomach turns and she knows he’s gone. “You need to stop.” Her voice is calm as she tries to keep it together.

“No!” You scream and you feel too weak to deal with any of it. He was your everything. “I can’t.”

The paramedics look at Babraba waiting to be told what to do and they know, too. His face is completely destroyed. He’s unrecognizable. The only reason Barabra even knows it’s Jason is because of the Robin suit. There’s brain matter on the ground. There’s more blood on the ground than there is in his body.

“Bluejay.” Barbara calls again, her voice cracking and this gets you to look at her. Even in the dark, Babara can see the redness of your eyes and the tears shining on the top half of your cheek above your mask. “He’s gone.” Babraba’s eyes go misty and you shake your head.

“No…” You whine and you finally stop but your hands stay on his chest. “No, not…no.” You let out a sob and you can’t even see Barbara anymore, the tears have blurred everything together. “I can’t.” You fall back, one of the paramedics catching you so you don’t hit the pavement too hard. The other paramedic jumps in and to Jason, just to be completely positive.

You shove the paramedic off of you and walk the few feet weakly to Barbara. “I-I…what--” You suck in a harsh breath, your breathing so rapid you feel like you're going to pass out.

“Sit down.” Barbara tries to keep her composure and you collapse with a loud sob, your entire chest feeling like it’s been set on fire with gasoline.

It can’t be him. Why him? He was good. He was a good person and funny and smart and kind. Jason had a heart of gold. Why did it have to be him? It never should have been him. He always deserved so much better. He never deserved this. This isn’t fair. It’s not right and it’s so fucking painful you wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Babs!” You scream. “I-I-I don’t I don’t wanna do it anymore.” Your teeth grit together as your words are wet and slurred.

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe. It’s hard to breathe and your chest feels like it’s all caving in under the pressure. Maybe putting your heart in a pressure cooker would be less painful than this. Everything fucking hurts.

Barbara rests a hand on your shoulder and she knew Jason was reckless but she didn’t think he’d ever actually get himself killed. He was smart. Smarter than this. You cover your face with your hands, not caring you're covered in Jason’s blood. You just want everything to stop. The pain and the world and time and everything. You want it all to be over.

“I’m so sorry.” Barbara offers and there is nothing she can say that’s going to make this better.

“I can’t.” You spit and push Barabra’s hand off you before getting to your feet.

You push through the pain, running away. Barbara yells after you but you do not care. You make yourself run through the pain and the weakness. If you can do anything, it’s run from it. You want to run as far as your legs will let you. To the bike where you can speed away from it all. Speed so fast the pain goes away. The agony will fade if you run. You can do it. You tell yourself you can as tears fall down your face. You toss the helmet on and hop on the bike, and leave. You've always been good at running. You can run from it.

You're in the bathroom back at the manor, scrubbing the blood off of your hands through tears. Everything is blurry and painful. It’s burning and agonizing and stabbing. It aches and throbs. Breathing is the hardest thing you've ever done. You try to get in a full breath but every time you do, a sob immediately follows and it’s like the wind is knocked out from your lungs all over again. Your head is spinning with a throbbing headache and your eyes are so puffy you can barely open them. But, there’s blood staining your hands, Jason’s blood, and you have to get it off. You have to get it off.

Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.

You grit your teeth so hard that your jaw starts to pulse and you hate it. You hate this so much. You hate it and you want him back. You need him. He is everything to you. He is your everything. He is your best friend and you love him more than you've ever loved anyone. And he’s supposed to take care of you and you're supposed to take care of him. And it’s not fair and it’s senseless and it was brutal and you scream at the top of your lungs before falling to the floor. You lean against the counter, pulling your legs to your chest as you put your hands on your face because you can’t do this anymore

You talked about what life you could have together. And you swear you saw it. For the first time, you were optimistic about a future. Because you had him. He gave you all of this hope for the future because Jason could survive anything. He was supposed to survive anything. He was good at it. Dodging whatever fucked up shit the world was going to throw at him. And now he’s not. He didn’t dodge fast enough. And you were supposed to have an apartment one day together. And make dinner together. And have a dog and a cat because Jason always really liked cats. He’d come home and you’d clean up the blood and he’d do the same for you when patrol got a little messy. You were supposed to have a life together.

You don’t know how you're supposed to get up again after this.

And then Molly walks in.

She’s been crying since Bruce called her and asked her to check on you. He’s worried about what you might do and seeing you on the floor absolutely hysterical, she knows why. Of course, she knew it would be bad. Her best friend just lost the person she loves. Of course, you're going to be a mess but….you're covered in blood and Bruce didn’t tell her what happened. And on top of that, you still have the suit on, minus the mask, which is another surprise Molly did not expect to get today.

Molly says your name with hesitance as she walks in, sitting on the floor in front of you.

You look up, moving your hands. “M-Molly.” You whine, your bottom lip trembling, the hood of your suit barely lets Molly get a glimpse of your face that’s covered in blood as well.

Molly nods. “Bruce called.” Her voice is just above a whisper.

“He….Molly…h-h-he…d-di-died..” You let out a sob as you shake your head and you just want it to be done. You're so fucking tired.

“I know.” Molly lets out a soft cry, sniffling softly.

“H-he’s dead.” Your entire body jerks with another cry as you hang your head. You're so fucking tired. Tired of all of it.

“I know.” Molly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a hug and allowing you to completely break against her. And then Molly starts crying because Jason was her best friend, too. “I’m so sorry.” Molly manages to get out.

“I can’t do it.” Your voice is weak against her.

“Can’t what?” Molly pulls away, her hands still on your shoulders as if trying to stabilize you.

Any of it. You can’t do any of it. You're covered in his blood and it all hurts. You're weak and tired and exhausted. It’s all agonizing and paralyzing and numb. It’s all too much. And you just cannot do any of it anymore.

“Blood and…” Your breathing is labored, your head swaying slightly. And you're so lightheaded and nauseous. “Do this.”

“One thing at a time.” Molly stands up and grabs a wash rag, wetting it with soap and water. Molly can break later. You need help. “Let me see.” You hand your hand to Molly and Molly starts cleaning.

Molly expects to find some sort of wound but she finds nothing. The more she scrubs, the more blood comes off and it’s just your skin under it. And she shakes her head because what the fuck happened to Jason that got you covered in his blood? A part of her almost doesn’t want to know. But, she has to ask anyway. Bruce was a little vague. So, after a few minutes, with your cries becoming quieter, Molly decides to ask.

“C-can I ask you what happened?” Molly is seeing that you're actually one of the suited vigilantes that roam Gotham so she’s guessing something with a bad guy went a little south.

And you don’t care anymore. None of it matters anymore. Jason is dead. It’s not his secret anymore. You're in your suit anyway and Bruce isn’t home. You're all alone anyway.

“Joker beat him to death with a crowbar.” You answer plainly Molly feels her stomach turn.

“What?” Molly’s heart stops in her chest.

You nod as you sniffle, watching Molly clean the remainder of Jason’s blood from your hands. “He was Robin.” Your voice is hoarse as you talk.

Molly pauses, blinking at you and she’s so confused. And this whole thing is growing more and more unsettling. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked.

“He…Jason was Robin?”

You nod again, sniffling. “Yeah.”

“You found him?” Molly asks. Why did you have to find him? Of all people, it just had to be you. Of course, it was you.

“Yeah.” More tears start to fall from your eyes and you can see him every time you blink. That’s going to be your last memory of him and it hurts so fucking bad you want to leave.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Is this all his?” Molly’s voice grows a little panicked. She can’t even imagine the sight you walked in on.

“There was a lot of blood. The head bleeds a lot.” You clear your throat before you sniffle again.

Molly is terrified you're going to start giving her gory details. Not on purpose but because you're too tired to care. The crying is slowing down and that always means you will talk. You stop caring and then you talk. Molly doesn’t want to know and you don’t need to relive the horror verbally.

“Okay, um…okay you stay here. I’m gonna get you some clothes.” Molly stands up quickly.

“C-can you…Jsaon’s room, there’s a…maroon hoodie. It was his favorite.” You look up at her as Molly heads to the doorway.

“Yeah, I’ll be back.” Molly nods quickly.

You let out another cry and you don’t think you’ll be able to survive this one. It’s too heavy. It’s too much. There’s only so much one person can take. And you swear as you shiver on the bathroom door with broken sobs tearing up your throat that Jason Todd was your breaking point. Jason Todd is dead and you swear you’ll never recover.

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series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

A/n: So, this is what Jason looks like in his death scene and he looks scared. Which, is probably a plothole because Titans (or them trying to throw us off since it's episode 1 ?? idk) but I decided I was just gonna use that anyway for fun lol Also fun fact, I was originally not going to include his death scene since we saw it in the show but then I rewatched UTRH and was encouraged by my best friend to make it worse so I did. And I'm really glad I included it lol I'm sorry but I really like how it turned out lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000

[candycryptids]

hewwooo tuesday here's a silly little question for you since your "check it out, frogs!!" blog title always delights me: how do each of your characters feel about frogs? 👀

I *love* Frogs, but how do the blorbeans feel about em...? Well... I had to really think about it TTuTT BUT! Chuu favors mechanical creatures over flesh 'n blood ones, and while her getting to the First is ambiguous and mysterious (being a non-wol, I just try not to think about it too much) She DOES... love the Dwarven Mecha frogs. And. The biggest frog of them all... Formi.... <3 …. So she doesn’t care for frogs much. She has sent Tuesday out frog catching for alchemical ingredients though….

Colette... Doesn't have any feelings this way or that about frogs, really. They're small, they're kinda slimey? but mostly they're just, very small. Except Gigantoads, I suppose, but those are a toad, and decidedly less slimey, by virture of being a toad. The ambivalence remains though! They're not that tricky to fight so long as you know how to wriggle out of their tongue grasp. (I did... take some frog-related Colette pictures tho >:3 I'm just gonna, post em a bit later, since the theme got away from me) Gigantoads make for a decent enough meal so long as you prep the meat right :T the legs are the most edible part yk.

Ishi is much more fond of Poro Roggo's, Matoya's froggy familiars. They're wearing LITTLE HATS ! They wave little canes! They're quite frankly adorable and they have little croaking voices. What's not to enjoy? (And also, there's something really nice about being out in the marshes of Mor Dhona and finding a little frog instead of a Morbol ready to stink bomb you, HAH)

Tuesday shivers when he thinks about frogs (knows the difference between a frog and a toad, still pictures a Gigantoad first, and does not much love being yanked mid-cast from his Ley lines into body slamming range.) Finds just a regular little frog endearing and will get down in the mud and muck to look at it though. Is especially fascinated by frogs that stick to things like leaves and trees and their camouflages uwu He’s the one who likely knows the most about frogs, and would gladly tell you more about them. Probably compares information with Erenville, if they ever meet up in non-life-threatening-situations.

Tangy finds them fun ! If she’s on a walk or a run or an errand and it’s drizzly and she sees a little frog hop across the pathway there’s literally 0 inhibitions in her body that stop her from also hopping or skipping for at least a minute (still on her way, but a frogs leap is so charming. They’re like tiny dragoons! She points this similarity out to Estinien once. Krile laughs, Estinien looks constipated- you know the face.) She also has a weird compulsion to put them into her mouth, though, so if she catches one….. make sure it’s not poisonous. She doesn’t even plan to eat it! They just look like they would fit perfectly in her kitty jaws (she is sometimes correct).

Mochiie had to get used to frog song when he moved to Gridania. The rivers and lakes and greenery abounding let the little critters thrive in a way they don’t particularly on the Steppe. …. He comes around to finding it relaxing and feels uneasy when he doesn’t hear them anymore lmfao. In non-WoL au’s, probably sometimes tasks adventurer’s with catching frogs for alchemical ingredients OR to bring back to the pond he’s been carefully maintaining to encourage the little beepers to live in it. (Btw, his favorite frog singers are the Pobblebonk or Banjo Frog [YT Link], and the Pacific Chorus Frog [YT Link] 🥰)

Levraut…. I’m still not sure. 🤔 I think he’d like them, but he wouldn’t feel strongly about them. He WOULD eat them though. As would Colette and Mochi… I mentioned Tangy liked to stick them in her mouth but actually eating them seems like a waste, since she’s so big and they’re so small. Like eating a blueberry. I can say his favorite frogs would be the Blue Jeans Poison Frog, for their striking jackets of warning colors, and the desert rain frog, whose perfect spherical nature and grumpy face is endearing.

[repo-net]

OMORI Rank-up Tier List #1: Main Cast

Alright, I've recently finished OMORI and I've given myself a bit of time to sit on it, think about the characters and how everything panned out. And hey, it's a pretty writing-centric game, I'm running a pretty writing-centric blog, so why not start with a short two-part series of appreciation posts for the game in the form of a tier list?

I definitely have a lot less to say about the side characters, so I won't be bothering giving them their own post, I'll be clumping them with the next one which is going to be a review of the locations/boss fights throughout the game that I was able to experience.

I'll note right now for anyone that this is the opinions of someone who finished OMORI about a few days after he posted this and only finished the true ending route (because as much as I love it, I am not willing to put myself through the game again just to go through and see the content in other routes when I can just look it up on YouTube), so this may change sometime in the future. I know for a fact that I was battling like hell with myself when I was ranking these six... anyways.

Obviously, spoilers are inbound, so if you haven't played OMORI and want to check it out for yourself, come back to this post later once you've completed it. If you're ready to look at whatever take this brain of mine has, then here it is under the cut!

Oh, and a few more messages before we get to the meat of it all - I'm going to be clumping and judging the characters with a combination of their aspects from both the dream world and the real world. While I obviously think that the real-world versions of the characters are the 'complete' arcs of themselves and the dream world versions are just watered down versions of them created by Sunny/Omori in their liking, I think it's worth bringing them up anyways since they serve as the background for each character before the horrible tragedy that hit them.

I also think that every single character in the main cast is written fantastically and are all at least A-tier characters in my heart, except for a select few in the top 2 that I think are more than worthy of being put into the S-tier if I were actually putting them into tiers instead of just ranking them.

Alright - let's do this for real this time!

#6 - Mari

You know how much it sucks having to pick a least favorite among a selection of things that you all really like? It's like me having to choose which of my kids I want to put up for adoption, blegh. Unfortunately, someone had to take this and begrudgingly, I'll have to slide everyone's favorite older sister here. I really hope this one isn't controversial...

So, here's the thing about Mari, right? In the perspective of a writer, I think she absolutely has the most going for her in terms of the amount of content you can produce for her in comparison to the rest of the cast. I think the sheer magnitude of possibilities and scenarios that you can write using Mari is pretty much endless, whether it be fluffy alternative universes where she lives or angsty, gut-wrenching punches of how not so great her time with Sunny ended. And believe me, that's just scraping the surface of what you can do with her!

Mari's a constant presence throughout the entirety of the game, whether it be in the form of Something looking over Sunny and Omori, being the support for everyone in the friend group as you go through the dream world, or her unfortunate death being the reason everyone in the real world turned out the way they did. And as much as I want to like Mari more, she's a very charming character and I think her relationship with Hero is one of the highlights of the game, I constantly find myself appreciating it (as a writer who enjoys angst) from Hero's side more because of how he responds to it. There just... isn't much for me to look at, honestly? Her dream world self is a sweetheart, bless her - but when we talk about how fleshed out she really is, there's not much for me to say other than what's already been shown to you in the story.

The best parts of Mari are in the symbolism scattered throughout the game in Sunny's subconscious and the short scenes we get of her throughout the game. I think I can attribute this to one of the criticisms I have of Omori; I really, really think Mari's character would've benefited from having more scenes of her failings (the pressure to get the duet with Sunny right; her perfectionist attitude being the reason he snaps being the fatal flaw that causes her death) actually play out instead of being left up to interpretation and details in the flavor text of the game.

Shit stinks. I really wish we could've seen that more- ironically enough, the imperfect side of Mari. Because the way I interpreted it, Sunny's motivation for playing the violin was so he could spend more time with Mari regardless of how much stress it puts on him and how much time it takes away from getting to chill with his friends. And when even that stops being fun for Sunny because of the pressure he feels considering it was the day of the recital and he still wasn't playing it perfectly, he lashes out and breaks the violin. In comparison, Mari wanted to perfect it cause... uhh, I dunno? Would sure be nice if we got more context on why she acted like that, considering the stark contrast of what she's like in the dream world...

If you really want to be harsh about it, Mari just ended up being a plot device for Sunny's own story, unfortunately. There exists a personality in there in the form of her dream world self; but it's angelic, too much so (which we obviously know why, it's Sunny's interpretation of Mari, a person who could do no wrong). I wish there was more about how Mari really was - as a sibling, as a girlfriend, and just as a person than the stories we get from the other characters that we have to fill in the blanks ourselves.

But hey, that's what fanfics are for, yeah? You go, Mari enjoyers. I love all of y'all. (Has been in the fandom for like no more than a week)

#5 - Basil

You hate to see it. Sorry, I know a lot of the fandom adores this boyo (I know a friend of mine does and I apologize in advance to you) and I do too, but I think it speaks volumes of how much I love this cast when a character of the floral lad's level can land himself in a spot like this. Man, why'd I put the two sweetest and kindest characters in the main cast at the bottom? I'm horrible, lmfao.

Ahh, Basil. In fairness, I think he has my second favorite design in the game only behind Aubrey from the real world, and if there's a character I'd want to roleplay as - I think my mind would go to Basil too, actually. There's so much good I can say about Basil that it makes me wonder; how in the world did he end up all the way over here?

Is it because of the horrible shit he pulled (seriously, how does a 12 year old come up with that? oh wait, my blog is nagisa shingetsu themed. nevermind, it's totally reasonable.) that he ended up here? Nope, heck I think he's way more interesting of a character because of it; seeing just how badly he was willing to protect his best friend and save him, only to create a rift between the two that becomes the focal point of the entire plot. That's good fucking shit right there. Love when characters have good intentions in mind and it just ruins their life.

The striking thing about Basil is that he has a very complete personality that makes him easy to latch onto; Basil is a kind soul with a strong sense of empathy and understanding of others, he loves photography and flowers, going as far as to have descriptions of his best friends in the wake of said flowers. He's a little troubled, hates fighting, but he's trying his best in spite of that to keep a smile on his face. He's a good boy and I think if you showed a normal person who knows nothing about the game the main cast, I think most people would say Basil's either the most interesting or their favorite character just by how nicely wrapped his presentation is when you disregard all the spoilery stuff about him.

Where it stops for me though is this - for someone who plays such an important role in the story and how the main conflict in pretty much 75% of the game is centered around him, Basil sure enjoys being absent because unfortunately, said conflict is the fact that he's missing. I'm not going to use this as a diss on Basil's character because it isn't his fault that he's pretty much required to be shrouded in mystery, and I don't even know what suggestions I'd have to improve it because you can't be showing Basil off too much.

But we're at a crossroads here. I think we didn't see Basil enough in the story, but at the same time... what could you do in OMORI that fixes that issue while also not overexposing him at the same time? Another unlucky spot that Basil's put in is the fact that some of the scenes where he's present in the real-world are overshadowed by another character capturing me more (Aubrey). It's not that there's a lack of him, but it's... ugh. It's so hard to explain.

It's tough. Because Basil's struggles is just so incredibly heartbreaking and I really, really do feel for him and just want to give the guy a hug after all that he's been through. Being driven to the point where you and your best friends are fighting each other, even gouging out his fucking eye??? It's horrific. I don't think the first thought that came to Basil's mind during the incident was 'let's hide this evidence as fast as we can', but more of a 'oh god, i need to save my best friend'. He's got so much weighing down on him.

At the end of the day, I don't even think Basil's underutilized. It just feels like he is, and I can't shake it off enough to put him above all the other characters here. Sorry, flower boy. I get the feeling you'll grow on me more as time passes, though.

#4 - Sunny

Hey, it's the protagonist! I usually put guys like you a lot higher than this, especially considering just how much I was rooting for you... and you did! So happy for you, my man. I'll forever be grateful I stumbled upon the best possible ending for the gang on my first and only playthrough of the game. Oh right, we should be talking about him instead of me. Sorry about that.

While some people like to consider Omori and Sunny as separate entities and prefer to rank them exclusive of one another, I'm personally going to take the other route and do as I've been doing with everyone else here; collectively using both dream world and real-world versions to judge the character as a whole.

And that plays the biggest factor me when it comes to ranking Omori/Sunny. Because I don't think Omori is a separate person from who Sunny is - I think Omori is an aspect of Sunny that formed as a result of the trauma that the incident with Mari caused. Omori is Sunny's coping mechanism, less of a shield, more of a wall; but I think the best word to describe him is a bubble that keeps Sunny's most horrific memories from resurfacing.

When I first played this game, I immediately found myself pretty attached to Omori because he was just a dry, quiet little guy who hangs out with his friends and might have some sort of mental issue to him. Who could resist such allure? But damn, if it weren't for the real world segments and how it all culminates into the final battle between Sunny and Omori... I think he'd be in Mari's spot. A character too reliant on flavor text to showcase their character, not really leaving enough of an impact for me to immediately think about them when I hear about the game OMORI.

But Sunny... Sunny, my beautiful boy. This poor fucking kid. Sunny is such an incredibly human character and I always found myself feeling pity for the guy, he's been dealt with such a horrible hand in the short time he's been alive, and yet despite me never going anywhere near the Sunny that went through, and having a very different personality from him; I can attest, he's very relatable. Just remind yourself that this kid pretty much tortured and isolated him for four whole years all alone because he couldn't get over the guilt that accidentally killing Mari gave him.

Four years is the amount of time between the start of the pandemic and today. Imagine never leaving your house, having no friends to rely on or talk to, constantly living in a fantasy world where you can do no wrong to hide yourself and cope, and dealing with at a worst case scenario was daily nightmares of your most horrible memory. Sunny's immediate reactions to anything that causes him distress is to block it out, and so; Omori, being his bubble, will do whatever means it takes to protect Sunny regardless of how much better it'd actually be in the end for him to finally accept the reality of what happened four years ago.

I don't normally mess or enjoy silent protagonists much because they're inherently kind of dull and usually end up falling flat. But along with Kris from Deltarune, Sunny is wonderful. It's just a shame that everyone after him are people I ended up feeling more connected to.

#3 - Hero

I honestly can't believe this man managed to win me over so hard that he'd place in the top 3. I kept thinking to myself while I was ranking the main cast: 'I like this character more than him, right...?'. But almost every single time, I remember something this goofy charm of a man did and I just sigh and realize I didn't appreciate him enough until after my playthrough and looked back on how so many of the things I liked about this game involved him.

So, here we are. At third, is none other than the world's most handsome man himself - Hero. I'm still wondering what his real name is if Hero was apparently just a nickname. Henry? That's like the closest thing I can think of off the top of my head. But let's address the elephant in the room.

I'll get this out of the way already. I'm perfectly aware that in comparison to everyone else, Hero doesn't get as much screentime or focus, heck; in the real world, he only shows up at the end of the second day and his most memorable moment for me was Kel telling us about what became of Hero after Mari's death when you go to her at the cemetery during Three Days Left. Flavor text. The very thing I pointed out to be why everyone before Hero is ranked lower than him. So how come he's up here...?

More than anything else, it's personal attachment. Apologies again for making this about me (pretty much every character from here is going to involve a bit of my personal life), but I have no siblings at all. This was kind of my fault, since I was so attached to my parents' love and affection that I didn't want anyone else taking that away from me. At the same time, I had three older male cousins who were the closest things to a big brother that I ever had in my childhood. They weren't exactly the nicest to me... but I always figured that was admittedly because of how weird I was as a kid anyways, so I don't hold that against them. I just wish I could've connected with them more.

Hero not only feels a lot more 'real' as a person to me in comparison to characters like Basil and Mari, not only cause I know people who handled the loss of a family member like he did and managed to hold himself enough and not go to the deep end. They're some of the most admirable people I know, and I look up to them a lot. Hero constantly wonders what he did wrong that Mari felt the need to commit suicide, but in the end; it's because he didn't do anything wrong. It's why I've always thought Hero's perspective after the good ending is the most interesting one and the one I always look forward to when I see how the writer executes it.

Not only does Hero get significantly more screentime than the characters before him in the form of the dream world, and feel much more alive than all the other dream world versions of the main cast, but he's much more flexible and allows for more wholeness in what I want to feel from a character.

What I mean by that is that Hero's personality and character opens more opportunities (and capitalizes on it!) so he can make me laugh, he can make me feel for him, he can be someone I can relate and struggle with, he can be someone I want to root for, and he's someone I can attribute to things I hold dearly to in real life.

He might not be the most complex or tragic (and considering what he went through, it goes to show just how bad shit gets in this game) character out there in a cast full of really deep ones, nor does he really stand out in the cast to some people...

But to me, he's everything I want out of a character. The only things that stopped him from being higher is that I was more compelled and struck by the next two.

#2 - Aubrey

Honestly? I thought Sunny would be a lot higher; in the spots that this one and the one after her would be, but I took the time to think about it and after some careful thought, I realized - yeah, I think these two are just more gripping to me and characters that I genuinely felt astonished by.

The dream world versions of the characters are husks. They're the idealistic versions of Sunny's friends and are characters that are only truly completed and finished because their real persona is so... amazing. And Aubrey...?

Out of any other character in the game, I think Aubrey benefits from the arc her real world has more than anyone else in this game. Because good god, this girl... I would've thought I'd feel more bad about the other characters, but I found myself constantly worrying about Aubrey because the circumstances that surrounded her was nothing short of poignant.

Could you imagine being in her position? You lose someone who's basically your older sister in a friend group that's more family than your own blood; because they're all deadbeats and your home life is unpleasant, to put it lightly. All of them start to drift off, for one reason and another, and it feels like nobody is even there to comfort you or give you a shoulder to lean on. But wait, maybe you do! Your childhood friend Basil, who's kind of nervous and seems pretty broken, but at least he's still there, right...?

And yet, from Aubrey's perspective, Basil ruined what was essentially the only physical memories they had left of their Mari. Someone she loved so dearly, desecrated like that... that broke her. For Aubrey, it felt like there was no one there that could understand her. And then, after four long years - suddenly, one of your friends finally decides to show his face, and this obnoxious, overly positive and reality-denying guy tries to act like you didn't just lose four years of your life wondering what went wrong and why she lost everything so quickly.

Wouldn't it feel insulting?

I don't normally like 'bully' characters (mainly due to my own childhood experiences with them), because they usually hit too close to home to me. I hate that I even feel like categorizing Aubrey as that considering we know the circumstances around her life. To make matters worse, she was probably the one I least cared about until her arc in the real world started and she completely blew me away.

Aubrey, whom I love the real design of and think she looks great in the real world - Aubrey's arc and character is something you learn to appreciate. It's something that you can only really 'get' when you remember the lesson OMORI tries to teach you in the first place.

And well, if you've played the game, then I need not explain any further. Let's move on to the guy in first.

#1 - Kel

A dork, kind of a dunce, but a champion. He is the catalyst for the true ending and is the reason the path to it even opens up in the first place. I'll concede this; characters that are complex like Aubrey, Sunny, and Basil are normally the characters you'd see as my favorites because I tend to value them more or just like their presence more.

But in any game; I really, really don't think I've ever seen a character archetype in the way that Kel's in who manages to not only be full of that childish endearing aura to him, yet flawed and so very, very real and human; who you can understand why other characters would lash out and get irritated at him, but also support him knowing fully well that his intentions are always for the best...

Kel is amazing. From the first interaction with him in the dream world, I was immediately hooked because of his stupid and goofy little humor that brings me to reminiscences of a simpler, more fun and youthful time in my life. I was worried that I might grow tired of him since; let's face it, dream world Kel does have shades of being just a tad one-dimensional. I was genuinely considering putting Aubrey as my favorite character.

And then I remembered the graveyard scene with Kel talking about his and Hero's story.

No scene in the game solidified my love for a character and made me want to do everything for them more than that did with Kel. Hands down, that is my favorite scene in the entire game and not a lot of moments come close.

Kel's kind of bad at reading the room, I think he's self-aware enough to know that he's stubborn and there are times where he's stepping into territory that should just be left alone.

Despite that though, it's because of his persistence that he succeeds. Kel might just seem like a positive and happy go lucky goofball (he is, tbf), but he had to deal with his own shit too. In response to Mari's death, Kel put on a smile and did what he believed Mari would've wanted him to do - he healed himself and got back up by making new friends, taking the time to worry about others, and try to get the friend group back together.

No matter how many tries it took. I seriously, seriously wonder just how much time Kel spent knocking on doors, asking his old friends if they wanted to hang out, yet always falling on deaf ears. I think the reason he's able to smile in spite of it all is that he just hasn't had the chance to mourn on his own. There are moments where the smile breaks for a bit; times like when Hero is the one that immediately gets rushed to by his parents while he's just left there when the two of them fought, or after Hero saves Basil after Aubrey pushed him into the lake, and he starts wanting nothing more to do with Aubrey, thinking that she's really changed until Hero manages to convince him otherwise.

Or worst of all, in the neutral ending... where Basil lets himself go and Kel cries, finally breaking down and unable to hold back the tears this time. He asks Sunny; 'why does this keep happening to us?' in the most heartbreaking sprite in the game. He's human and has a limit, just like everyone else. And it's so cathartic when in the good ending, Kel's efforts pays off in the form of Sunny finally overcoming his demons.

Everything I said about Hero being flexible and whole? Kel is that, but cranked to 11. I absolutely adore this boy and I want him to be happy, because he deserves the world and more.

Kel is my favorite character in all of OMORI. And with that, here's the formal image of the final rankings of all these characters.

Whoo, that must've been a doozy. Sorry that got so long, and if any of my thoughts didn't make sense or are incoherent - I'm a lot better following up on things and adding to it rather than trying to formulate my own thoughts, because trying to think of stuff that people don't already say is pretty hard, eheh.

Anyways, that's my ranking of the main 6 characters from OMORI. Not ashamed to say how much I love all of them and this game, and I'm looking forward to the next time I find the energy to continue this series and divert the discussion from its core set of characters. Hope you enjoyed reading this!

Quick credit for the fanmade pic of real Mari: Some Mari portrait edits : OMORI (reddit.com)

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching The Rapture

Welcome to “It’s Not Like He Boiled *Her* Arm, Jeez: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e20: The Rapture.

Cas appears to Dean in a (lovely, peaceful) dream and gives him a note asking him to meet him at a warehouse. When the boys show up at the warehouse, something angelic has clearly gone down, and they find Cas—but not. It’s Jimmy Novak, the man Cas was using as a vessel. Cas is mysteriously back in heaven. After a good deal of objection and argument from the boys, Jimmy returns home to his family (who think he walked out and disappeared on them a year ago, probably as part of a psychotic break). We see several flashbacks of Jimmy when Cas first began to speak to him, as well as Jimmy’s tortured attempt to rejoin his family. Meanwhile, demons are up to shit, threatening Jimmy and his family. When Cas returns to find Jimmy wounded, he possesses Jimmy’s daughter Claire instead. Cas assures Jimmy that he has done well and will be rewarded in heaven, but Jimmy insists that Cas not subject Claire to the rigors and pains of possession, and Cas agrees to possess Jimmy once again. Cas then reveals to Dean that his trip to heaven has cured him of his doubts and that he serves heaven… not Dean. The boys return to Bobby’s, being all fraught with one another about Sam’s recent confession to Dean that he’s been drinking demon blood. Bobby and Dean trick Sam into the panic room and lock him in, hoping to force him to detox from the blood.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

[and we begin:]

Lor:

omg. He deserves to sit by a quiet lake and fish

Mace:

Misha looks so young and gorgeous

Lor:

he DOES

Lor:

the way you know IMMEDIATELY it's not Cas

Mace:

is he…doing a higher-than-his-real-voice voice?

Mace:

or has his voice lowered a bit with age, I wonder

Lor:

yeah I'm not sure. he is for sure doing a higher than Cas voice

Lor:

aw Dean doesn't like that Cas isn't in there anymore. like not just that he doesn't know where Cas is, but like, that is supposed to be Cas and it's NOT

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

I wonder, if Cas never returned at this point, would Dean and Jimmy have gotten together?

Lor:

naah

Lor:

he's too... vanilla

Mace:

but he’s also HOT

Lor:

that IS true

Mace:

and Cas isn’t exactly spicy

Lor:

he WOULD have a lot of fun undoing that aaaaall the way up tie

Lor:

Cas's Dom brow begs to differ

Mace:

may i remind you that those eyebrows belong, in fact, to Jimmy

Lor:

but he doesn't DEPLOY them

Mace:

oookay

Lor:

omg he's just little

Mace:

Oh Sammy

Mace:

we gots to get you off the juice, man

Lor:

right?

Lor:

"was it a refreshing Coke?" Dean, you little shit, I love you

Mace:

snork

Mace:

HANDS

Lor:

YES

Lor:

oooh, I forgot Jimmy cooks. maybe they WOULD get together

Lor:

but he'd have to stop putting his arm in boiling water. Dean's little caretaker heart couldn't take it

Mace:

okay, i relent. Dom Cas just made Jimmy boil his own fucking hand

Lor:

HAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

MACE

Lor:

we just flipflopped

Mace:

oh gross. HER again

Mace:

WE DID

Lor:

ug Anna

Mace:

well, no, actually. I never stopped liking the idea of Dean and Jimmy

Mace:

Jimmy Dean sausage, baby

Lor:

HAHAHAHAHAHA omg dude

Mace:

(oh I just grossed myself out. apologies)

Lor:

(lololololol)

Lor:

oh Jimmy you're gonna be in so much trouble

Mace:

he is SO pretty

Lor:

omg LOOKIT him just lounged there in his t-shirt

Mace:

YAS

Lor:

I mean, if he took the pills, he'd still hear Cas....

Mace:

omg what an idiot. don’t leave him! who tf cares if he takes meds HE’S FLIPPING HOT

Lor:

HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

and he's not dangerous?

Mace:

well, a little dangerous would be okay...

Lor:

lol

Mace:

ooof that closeup of his LIPS

Lor:

it's like he's all INNOCENT

Lor:

omg the HEAD TILT

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“like what?” like boning? I’d be ready for boning

Lor:

HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

Amelia kind of annoys me

Mace:

oh LOOKIT HIM with the daughter

Mace:

yeah me too

Mace:

they all drink milk SO WHOLESOME

Lor:

I get her need to protect herself and especially Claire, but her lack of compassion with her husband who she thinks is having a mental break makes me nuts

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

omg the tears in his eyes HE IS SO GOOD

Mace:

YEP

Lor:

omg the way his voice breaks when he says he's not gonna say grace

Mace:

YES

Mace:

Oh Jimmy

Lor:

right?

Lor:

feeling kinda stupid now, AREN'T WE, Amelia?

Mace:

look, Amelia, THAT’s how you support your spouse

Lor:

LOLOLOL

Lor:

"I'm sorry we were" poor Dean just wants to keep people out of this shit

Mace:

yeah

Lor:

jeez Sammy

Mace:

he’s got the DTs leave him be

Lor:

oh fine

Lor:

oh Sammy

Mace:

right? poor tiger

Lor:

Amelia's not here anymore

Mace:

snork

Lor:

heckle and jeckle lol

Mace:

snork!

Mace:

omg Dean’s face when Jimmy gets shot

Lor:

right?

Mace:

yeeeah, they SO wouldn’t get together…

Lor:

picture the look I am giving you

Mace:

aw, loving adoration. thanks, friend.

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Mace:

yes, I AM so smart and pretty

Mace:

omg Sammy

Lor:

you ARE

Lor:

ooof Sam

Lor:

and Dean's face

Mace:

YES

Lor:

and Cas!Claire all with the judgement

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

Misha is SO GOOD

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

there are individual performances of all three of them that were absolutely emmy worthy

Mace:

Dean’s all “hello, boyfriend."

Mace:

YES

Lor:

YEP

Lor:

"and I certainly don't serve you"

Mace:

ooooh playing hard to get

Mace:

SMART

Lor:

whatever you gotta tell yourself, hon

Lor:

HAAAHAHAHA

Lor:

oh man, Dean's in a snit. brother's an addict, boyfriend's pretending he doesn't care

Mace:

Sammy. Read the car. Dean has other troubles right now. Boyfriend is playing hard to get.

Lor:

"mostly I'm just tired, man." oooof

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

yeah

Mace:

“shag ass"

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

I ADORE that expression

Lor:

YES

Mace:

BOBBY NO

Mace:

At least put me in there with him, dude

Lor:

oooooo Dean and Bobby setting him up offscreen

Lor:

HA!

[cynicalmusings]

hello, hello! i'm actually one of your anons, but i'll keep it brief since i'm too shy to use an emoji. i want to ask you something if you don't mind, i want to know how you define happiness. like your idea of what happiness looks and feels like. having followed your blog since unreleased in-game cyno phase, i'm glad to see that your affection for heizou has grown over the years. i am so happy that there is someone out there who loves and adores my favorite character as much as i do, if not more.

a lot of things happened recently, and i ended up in a situation where i couldn't feel anything anymore; everything was numb. i thoroughly enjoyed your post about heizou, any rambles and late night ideas. believe me, i would be lying if i said i wasn't jealous. i wish i could still dream and gush about my fav like i used to, i miss being like you.

you can ignore this if you want! there's no pressure; you're the only blog i've been following for a long time, so hearing from you every time i open tumblr has grown on me. to keep things interesting, i wish you could tell me how you would rant it to heizou! today is his special day after all. i wish you have a good day today, the day heizou were born into this world :)

“How would you define happiness?” Heizou asks me out of the blue. I raise my eyebrows.

“Why the sudden question?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.”

“Alright, well… big question,” I chuckle. “I’m not sure I have an answer, to be honest.”

“Just try. You can explain your thought process as you go along.”

“Okay…” I scratch my neck. “Well, I guess the first thing is to decide how… intense happiness is, I guess, as an emotion. Like, is happiness just an absence of sadness or a thing on its own? An ‘absence of sadness’ seems quite lukewarm, though—like, I’d call contentment or… comfortableness an ‘absence of sadness’, but I wouldn’t say that contentment and happiness are the same thing. Actual happiness is stronger, I’d say. Not necessarily a huge outburst of emotion, but definitely more substantial than contentment. Potentially brought about by a specific stimulus, kind of, instead of just occurring on its own, too.”

“That’s a step closer to figuring out your answer already,” says Heizou.

“Yeah, well, be ready for a ton more steps.”

He smiles. “I’m listening.”

“I think…” I sigh, unsure how to articulate my thoughts. There’s something there, but I can’t put my finger on what precisely that ‘something’ is. Not yet. “I think happiness could be an extension of comfortableness, though. If you don’t feel comfortable or secure somewhere—whether that’s in a location or around another person—or yourself—you’re not going to be able to take your mind off that unease, and that’s going to stop you from being happy. Once you’re comfortable, you can move onto being happy. And—and this ‘security’ doesn’t necessarily mean you’re physically in a safe place. Like, if you have a reckless person who likes to throw themselves into dangerous situations, as long as they’re like ‘ooh, this is so fun!’ and they feel confident about it, rather than being like ‘yeah, it would be fun to try this out, but it’s kind of dangerous…’, I’d still say they feel secure. I guess it’s inner security. Oh—and I guess it’s similar with regrets, too. If you have any regrets on your mind in a certain situation, you won’t really be happy, either.”

Heizou eyes me with interest as I continue.

“Ooh—there’s another thing, actually. I think happiness has a lot to do with the present moment.”

He tips his head to the side. “The present moment? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Like… say you’re reminiscing about a fond memory. That’s not happiness. That’s more like yearning, or… or longing, or something. And if you feel ‘happy’ towards the future, I’d say that’s anticipation or excitement rather than happiness. I don’t know.”

“Hmm. So your current conditions for happiness are: it’s an active feeling brought about by a stimulus, it involves feeling secure with your situation, and is based around the present moment.” He counts them off on his fingers as he speaks.

“Yeah.” I click my tongue, pulling my lips back into a grimace. “But… it still feels incomplete somehow. I don’t know. These are just the conditions for happiness that I’ve been going over, not the happiness itself.”

“Maybe try thinking about it in more simple terms,” Heizou suggests. “Don’t overthink. When somebody says the word ‘happiness’, what comes to mind?”

I purse my lips, silent for a while. “…I don’t know!” I eventually laugh out. I click my tongue again and run it around my pulled-in lips. “Err… god, this is hard. Happiness…” I muse. “Happiness, happiness, happiness… what is happiness, anyway? Maybe it doesn’t exist!—I’m just kidding, but… seriously, I have no idea. If I felt happy, I’d be aware of the fact that I’m happy, but actually defining it? That’s… hmm.”

“How about you try describing the feeling itself?” he prompts.

“Well, everyone will experience it a little differently, right?”

“I asked for your definition. What other people feel doesn’t matter here.”

“Well, that’s mean to say,” I joke. “If I were someone else, that definitely wouldn’t make me happy.”

“What would it make you feel?”

“Well, probably not really anything, to be honest,” I admit. “Maybe some people would get offended.”

“And how would you describe the feeling of being offended?” My mouth is on the verge of forming the words ‘I don’t know’ again when he says, “You can use an analogy, if it helps.”

“Erm, alright… it kind of feels like a… sting, or something, I guess.” I’m not satisfied with the answer, but I know I won’t be able to come up with anything better at the moment, so I leave it be.

“Now apply that same method to describing happiness. What do you feel?”

“It’s kind of… warm? I guess? Energising, to an extent? You notice when you’re properly happy, anyhow. And sometimes it’s a bit… ticklish, almost, like bubbles inside me or something.” I grimace at my own description. “Sorry, that sounds really weird.”

Heizou chuckles. “No, no, I get what you mean. It’s like there’s some sort of energy building up inside you, right?”

“Kind of, yeah. But that might be excitement I’m describing, instead of happiness. But then maybe excitement is another branch of happiness.” I groan. “You know what, I have no idea. Who needs happiness, anyway, right?” Heizou rolls his eyes, smiling. “But… yeah, sorry. I don’t think I have an answer for you.”

“That’s alright,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to come up with anything right off the bat, anyway. Like you said, it is a big question.”

“I’ll keep thinking about it anyway,” I say. “If I come up with anything better, I’ll let you know.”

——————

well, you asked for a rant, and you got one. i tried to be as accurate to my own manner of speaking and mannerisms as possible. i have a suspicion or two about which anon you are, but i’m not confident about that, so i won’t say anything. regardless, it’s nice to see you again!

i’m sorry that whatever’s happened has worn you down like it. i don’t know if this will work for you, but specifically in regards to brainrotting, it doesn’t necessarily have to take much deep thought to have ideas. often i just base brainrots on things i’ve picked up on in my surroundings. there’s so much happening in the real world just around you all the time, even if it doesn’t seem like it, and even taking the simplest things and imagining a character reacting to them can spark something: how would they find the temperature right now? how fast are they walking? close or far away from you? close enough for your hands to knock as you walk? is that intentional? what’s their posture when they’re standing? do they lean against the wall you’re standing by, or are they upright? what do you talk about as you get on public transport? are you going to tell them what’s on your mind, or will they start talking first? what would they order if they went out with you for lunch? it can genuinely be the littlest things which spark a brainrot—but then again, that’s from personal experience, so it might not be effective for everyone. still, if you haven’t tried and you’d like to get into brainrotting again, maybe it’s worth a shot.

i’m really grateful that you’ve stuck with me for so long—it’s nice that some people still remember the pre-release cyno phase—and it’s really warming to hear that you find my variety of rambles interesting. i hope things improve for you soon, and here’s to seeing you in my inbox again in the future!

[magick-musings]

Hey!! How do I transmute energy? Like from someone’s hex on me? Or overall how to do this? Do u have any resources or recommendations or anything 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿

So... here's the thing. I'm an intuitive and eclectic practitioner, and pretty private about my personal workings (as you should be too. Can't be giving out the blueprints and schematics of your lair with all the secret passages circled in red ink. There's a reason this shit was supposed to be kept on the down low). All I can say is that there are no crystals and jars lying around my house to break or steal or otherwise render useless. Maybe someone else can point you to an obscure grimoire or a shiny crystal to spend big bucks on to solve all your problems, but that's not how I do things. I don't have a spell for you, only theory.

Hopefully you know the basics of energy work and warding and aura manipulation, and a general understanding of animism and alchemy and whatever divination method you use to receive messages from the many types of incorporeal. Experience in astral workings would also be good too honestly. If not, you can search em on my blog there's definitely more than a few master posts here to get you started.

As we've all heard, good defense is the best offense so start with banishing, cleansing and warding, followed by a recharge. This is a good time for any aura/energy manipulation on yourself as well as your spaces. Gotta start with a blank canvas. If this is gibberish to you... girl idk get to studying bc transmutation is not beginner shit. If you got all that down tho...

First off, having the outer layer of your ward be 'sticky' is a good start. Instead of energy bouncing back, it gets stuck, trapped. this can turn into a layer of grime though, so you have to have a purification process for it. Think like... how plants take in CO2 (deadly to humans) and give us oxygen (life sustaining) and in the same vein, what we exhale is what they inhale. Or oysters, filter feeders in the ocean who take in detritus and sustain themselves off of it while returning cleaner water to the ecosystem. Chicken manure is used as fertilizer for crops that feed us. Spiders catch pests in their webs.

If you're into animism, nurture a symbiotic relationship. Feed the harmful energy to something that lives on it, and in exchange for nourishing it, the 'waste' it gives off is something helpful to you. There are a lot of ways to go about this, I encourage you to use your imagination. Look around at what you got, and do the best you can with that. Transmutation is all around us if you just know where to look.

Either way. Once it's purified, you can apply it to whatever you want. Wards are a great start though. A self sustainable ward goes a whole long way towards peace of mind.

My main piece of advice is never do the transmutation inside your own energetic body. (Well, not never, but that's mad advanced and if you have to ask this you're not ready for all that). (This is said with love and care and concern not condescension). (Exceptions made for shadow work, or any working done with your own energy. That is also transmutation, also related to the aura and astral work i mentioned above, and a whole other beast entirely). Externalize it, separate the malignant energy from yourself if it isn't already (aka caught in the wards before it could get to you and/or banished etc), and then host the purification process outside of yourself. Also, dont be scared to ask your spirit guides/gods/ancestors/etc for help, if you work with any.

Trust your intuition, ask your guides for, yknow, guidance, and don't be too scared to actually try something new or experimental.