#like i had prepared for so much but i never expected them to just. rewrite every song so it isn’t a showtune. like

[honkifyourelonely]

i will get tired of talking about it eventually but what if i actually like ended it all guys it’s SO BAD MUSICAL THEATRE IS OVER ENDANGERED SPECIES THEY WANT US TO DIE THEY WANT ME PERSONALLY TO DIE

[starlitrays]

KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE

starring. pro hero!katsuki bakugo x pro hero!gn!reader

summary. set several months into the fake relationship, bakugo doesn't really like you and you tolerate him, but you both know how to appease an audience | 1.7k words

content. fake dating (obvi), second person pov, bakugo having conflicting feelings, use of 'y/n' and 'l/n' for last name, fluff if you squint, x is still twitter bc i said so, reader has a pet cat, this feels choppy to me

a/n. first time writing in awhile AND first fic post AND and i didn't fully get into the flow until i was almost done so be patient i might rewrite this after awhile

navigation – masterpost

The cameras ate up every helping you two gave them. You and Katsuki were extremely lovey dovey around the cameras no matter where they were, but when there wasn't a camera or paparazzi or a fan around you two, neither of you said much.

It had been arranged by your managers without much input from either of you, to fake date, that is. It was for approval ratings, popularity polls, and although you individually did well enough on your own, together you shot up the charts. Neither of you particularly liked each other but you could be civil to each other, and you knew how to play a camera, so it was working out well.

Now you sat, thigh to thigh next to Katsuki with his left hand held in your lap with both of your hands, smiling at the interviewer talking to the two of you. He wasn't smiling, although that was normal. The crowd, filled with live audience members and other paparazzi looking for the perfect shot, stared in awe at the perfect couple the two of you were.

When the interviewer would ask a question, you'd turn and wait for Katsuki to say something first, and if he didn't or he turned to face you, that meant it was your turn to answer the question.

”Now, there is one question that a lot of your individual and combined fans have been asking a lot lately.” The interviewer, Notaui, began, although he paused, waiting for some kind of approval from the two of you.

You started to nod a yes, and Katsuki spoke up. ”Go on.” He sounded annoyed. He always sounded annoyed though, and you were internally rolling your eyes, although that never poked through to your facial expression. Pure focus in media and PR training had taught you how to maintain an expression while feeling something else entirely.

”Can we expect to hear of a save the date anytime in the near future?” Notaui lifted his brows up at the happy couple. You turn your head to Katsuki, but he freezes, and you squeeze his hand, letting him know you would take care of it. After all, this was bound to come up eventually, and you were prepared.

”Notaui c'mon, wouldn't that ruin the surprise of a proposal?” You say with a laugh, getting the attention off Katsuki for a few moments. At the sound of your laugh, your counterpart dry laughs right along with you. You didn't need a quirk to feel the realisation of the stupidity of the question ripple through the audience. ”Besides we're in no hurry.” You continue, turning and smiling at the crowd with a wink.

The answer you gave was perfect, Katsuki knew that. He also knew that his manager would praise him for letting you handle it, but it still pissed him off a little bit, even if the rewards got him exactly where he'd wanted to be since he decided he wanted to be a pro hero.

Notaui cleared his throat, and his cheeks got a little rosy out of what most would assume was embarrassment, but you could tell, it was disappointment from not getting the answer the producers wanted.

”You just say when.” Notaui laughed, winking at the camera. It made both you and Katsuki question how this guy got his own show, but nobody knew that. ”Oh and guess what, that's time.” He announced, telling you, Katsuki and the audience that the segment of you two sitting there looking perfect, was over.

Katsuki stood up before you did, and with your hands holding his, you were quick to follow suit.

You walked over to Notaui, releasing Katsuki’s hand to shake his, politely thanking him for having the two of you on. Katsuki didn’t shake the guy’s hand, instead just nodding along with your words before ushering off the stage just behind you, barely sparing a second glance at the audience you smiled and waved at. Still, you smiled as you politely thanked all of the behind the scenes crew, just like your manager had told you while Katsuki floated around you, hands in his pockets. 

When you two finally managed your way into the elevator and the doors shut, you both let our heavy sighs almost simultaneously. You glanced over at Katsuki, who had looked over to you at the same time. We’re spending too much time together. You thought to yourself, eyes returning to anything but him.

The ding of the elevator had your smile returning and your hand reaching for Katsuki’s for just a moment longer as you left the building, where a car had been pulled around for you both. Letting go of his hand, you reached forward, pulling the back door open before sliding all the way over to the farthest seat. Katsuki got in, sitting closest to the door he pulled shut. This left just the middle seat between you two.

“Well that was bullshit.” Katsuki muttered, arms crossed while his eyes glared out the tinted window. You turned your head to him momentarily, rolling your eyes as your head turned back to looking out your own window.

“For once I agree with you.” You responded, reaching into your purse for your phone. It’d become routine now, to check your phone after every time you and Katsuki would go out together. First you open your messages, giving a thumbs up response to your manager’s text about doing great. Then you read your mom’s text about how proud she and your father were to see you on TV, which you half-smile at. They didn’t know your relationship with Katsuki wasn’t real. Your mom gets a ‘thanks mom :)’ text back, and you close out of your texts.

Deciding against checking your email, you click on the blue icon with a white bird on it. You ignore the top tweets in your timeline, moving over to the explore page. There it is.

“We’re trending again.” You say into the air, eyes never leaving your phone screen. Katsuki just hums in response. You tap the trending tag, scrolling through tweet after tweet. Of course there were a few people who hated you, or Katsuki, or both of you, but most of the tweets were big hero culture news outlets and fans raving about you guys. Sometimes you did feel a little guilty about the whole thing. Making people happy made you happy, but it’s not like any of it is true. Regardless, you go ahead and like some of the fan tweets. 

Katsuki leans his head back against the headrest of his seat. He mumbles something under his breath and you turn to him. “What?” You ask him, eyes scanning his face.

He huffs, desperately willing himself not to roll his eyes as he always does. “I said, you’re too good at this, (L/n). Better than you should be, anyways.” He says, looking away from you. You quirk a brow up at him. “I mean-” He pauses, as if thinking over his words. “how are you always so cheerful with the fans and press?” The questions echoes in your ears.

“Easy. I think about going home.” You responded, more nonchalantly than you left. Of course the lie was tiring, but being in your own bed, surrounding by blankets and pillows and your cat Zero, his different fur colours always keeping him quite clear in your vision in contrast to the shades of your bedding as your eyes scan over the screen of your laptop, giggling at the youtube video displayed on the screen. 

Katsuki looks at you.. oddly? It’s almost a scowl, but not quite. It’s almost like he’s simply displeased. You stare right back at him and pull your lips tight together, silently reiterating your words. He grunts in response, it’s his nonverbal version of ‘okay.’ 

As the driver rounds the last corner before your apartment, you notice something in your peripheral vision. Was that..? You question, eyes looking into the driver’s rear view mirror. You can’t be sure of what you’re seeing since the angle is meant for the driver, not a passenger, but when the car stops just outside the carpark of your apartment complex, you take the chance to glance back as your readjust in your seat, gathering your purse and looking around for anything else you may have left behind in the car. Cameras. You were seeing cameras, maybe they were fans, maybe they were paparazzi, that you couldn’t tell. 

You reached for the door handle, when you felt your phone buzz. Sighing shortly, you reach for your phone, a text from your manager being the sole notification at the bottom of the screen. Without clicking it, your Face ID unlocks your phone, switching the text from a new message notification, to showing the contents of the text. It tells you that there are eyes on you and Katsuki which, granted, you knew, but it always made you shiver at how she always knew.

While you didn’t like the idea of inviting a man prone to outbursts into your safe haven, you still acted immediately. You couldn’t help how your media-trained mind worked. “Give me your jacket and come with me.” You say into the air, words clearly meant for Katsuki and he looks over to you from the window, confused while you typed back an ‘okay’ text to your manager.

When he didn’t move immediately, you lifted your eyes from the screen and looked at him. “Bakugo, now.” You told him, eyes looking at him almost as if he was crazy. Katsuki began to shed his jacket, handing it over to you with a frown. 

“Why am I going with you?” He asks, rolling his shoulders back. You start to drape the jacket over your shoulders.

“I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.” You huff, offering your hand out to him. “Ready?” 

All he does is slide his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with a nod and a grunt.

Oh the things you do to remain at the top.

@ STARLITRAYS : please do not translate or repost my works without my expressed consent and permission. please do not copy any of my works.

[banj0possum]

Alistair x (platonically) Teen Reader

In the fic he is like oh my god a bride, he walks in and instead of an adult..or a bride-

They find a teen, who literally threw a pebble at him, an angsty teen💀

I’m very happy to read ur fics and usually pair them with teen/child mc because I find it funny because they expect the love of their life

and teen mc standing there :🧍‍♂️

anyways sorry for the long request, luv ur writing, and ur art :D

Yandere! Evil King x Teen! GN! Reader

CW: platonic relationship, Alistair is a bit of a DILF so do with it as you will, Dads are hot you guys!! READER IS A MINOR.

👑 Who is this sassy lost child?

👑 His minions kidnapped you while you were on a carriage ride back to your kingdom.

👑 He was hoping for like a princess or something to marry and take over the kingdom with or whatever so like...what tf he gonna do with you???

👑 Clearly you were too young to be in a situation like this, but theres no way he's giving you back without a reward, so yes he still holds you for ransom.

👑 "Child, I am Alistair, King of-ACk!"

👑 Did...did you throw a pillow at him?!

👑 "How dare yo- AHK! Stop it!" another one..

👑 You refuse to listen to anything he says, you just wanted to go home

👑 You two had a bit of rivalry for a bit. He hated you and you hated him.

👑 He promised not to show any affection or care towards you since in his eyes, your actions didn't deserve it. How can someone be so rude to a king !?

👑 But he starts to notice you don't eat much. He never sees you in the dining hall and has only seen quick moments of you nibbling on some bread or pastries the servants gave you.

👑 He scoffed, so irresponsible! You must eat a proper meal right this second or you'll starve!

👑 You're surprised to see a meal prepared for you during your routine trip to get a snack from the pantry with a note on the plate.

👑 "Next time, ask for a proper meal. I don't want your parents to think I've been starving you. -Alistair P.S. go to bed early."

👑 Huh...

👑 Alistair smiled from the doorway of the dining hall, watching you eat up with a smile on your face. You might have been too scared of him to ask for food so you've been sneaking snacks while he wasn't looking.

👑 Of course he wasn't doing it because he cared about you, he just didn't want royalty like you to resort to such pathetic means to eat!

👑 Why are you still sad? Perhaps he should get you some things to keep your attention..

👑 He asks (threateningly may I add) about your hobbies or interests.

👑 The next morning your cell (which has been upgraded to a lovely room in the castle because he didn't want you to be filthy and gross in a dungeon) was filled with anything he could find that he thought you'd enjoy.

👑 Don't think he wants you to be happy! He's just tired of seeing you sulk everywhere!

👑 He denies everything, but you swear you could see a tiny smile on his face when you hugged him happily.

👑 You start being a little more open to him, showing him anything you've made or done with pride and he'd receive it gratefully, but he won't show it of course.

👑 "I made you this friendship bracelet!"

👑 "I've seen better jewelry."

👑 "Oh I'll take it back then I guess.."

👑 "No, it's mine now, back off."

👑 Drawings and the like that he said would be thrown out as soon as you left would be seen framed in his room

👑 It would be a..waste of good canvas..

👑 And of course he buys a few books of your choice for you to read, he'd be damned if your brain turns to mush.

👑 Bro bro he'd be the type to let you swing around while holding onto his bicep.

👑 If you ever have any problems, or come to him in a bad mood, he'd have no idea how to help other than to sit down and listen to your troubles.

👑 He's not the most physical when it comes to affection, but you bet your ass he's gonna do everything he can to cheer you up.

👑 At this point he's rewriting his demands for the ransom. Either your kingdom lets him sign some adoption papers or he's starting a war.

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Finally finished the first part of gai’s 8 gates coma and how kakashi dealt with it rewrite people have been requesting. [tw blood, injury, coma, death discussions, grief]

Kurenai: Kakashi Kks: Ah. Kurenai and...baby, what’s up? Kurenai: You mind if I come in a moment? Kks: Uhhhhh I-

Kks: So what did you need to speak about? Did something happen? K: No, Nothing’s happened. You haven’t gotten to properly see and bond with her yet. Here Kks: You know I’m not fond of kids. K: That’s why I didn’t ask. Hold your arms out. Ok, now, don’t look absolutely petrified.

Kks: She’s ok, I guess [YELP] Oi! Don’t pinch me while I’m holding your baby! K: You wouldn’t drop her. Asuma would haunt you forever! Kks: Terrifying thought, Mirai.... How are you feeling? K: Exhausted. Do you really want to hear how horrifying having a baby is? Kks: No, please don’t tell me.

K: I came over to check on you as well. Any news? Kks: No. He’s still the same. K: Is that why it looks like this in here? Kks: ...Yeah. Doctor said he may never wake up. Since we’re eachother’s medical contacts, Tsunade told me I had to prepare to make hard decisions should it come to that.

Kks: With the council breathing down my neck over a job I don’t want, I had... A bit of an outburst. K: I don’t even blame you. That’s... That they expect you to carry on like normal. Still grieving. The person you love most is gone. But you’re still here. Don’t let them just dust you off and move on again. I’ll always have your back. Kks: You and Asuma always did. Even when I wasn’t grateful for it.

Kks: I can’t tell if they just don’t care or didn’t realize, Gai’s the one who held me together all these years. Only reason I’m still here at all is because of him. I don’t think tenzou, the elders, or the village are prepared for what’ll become of me if I lose him. So, I don’t care anymore. Let them be mad. I won’t give up on him. K: You should talk to him. Kks: huh K: Talk about anything! I’m sure the sound of your voice will help him find his way back. Especially if you sound sad, Kks: uuh

K: I can hear it now, “My eternal rival is sad? Not on my watch!“ Kks: Pretty accurate impression. K: There’s been lots of source material! Kks: Maaa, Your mom’s a huge dork K: Oi! [kakashi chuckles]

K: He’ll be so upset he missed her birth Kks: Oh, devastated. I can’t wait to see the look on Gai’s face, Mirai, when I tell him /I/ held you first! When he wakes up

Kks: Hey, Gai. Kurenai said i should talk to you.

Kks: Feels weird. Most of the people I’m used to talking to like this are all... Dead.

It’s so eerie how silent you’ve been for so long. you’re not even this quiet when you sleep. Your kids come everyday to see you. Naruto and sakura when they can. Lots of others. I’ve been telling them embarrassing  stories from when we were kids since you keep making them wait. Do you remember when I came over while you and Dai were making supper

Dai: Kakashi! Good to see you, my boy! Kks: Id Gai home? Dai: He’s helping with supper! Go on, inside, you’re always welcome! Kks: Ok Dai: Atta boy Kks: Hey, G- !? ummm? Gai: OH!! Rival!! Kks:  Is that a lid?! Gai: Correct!! It stops me from crying while cutting onions! A win for me!!

Kks: Against.... the onions? Gai: Yep! KKs:[snicker] Gai: Laugh all you want! Not everyone can comprehend innovation. Kks: Whatever. You forgot this at the training grounds. I know it’s yours there’s a turtle on it. Gai: See! You’re already tearing up! Kks: Am not Gai: Also, thankyou so much! Kks: Bye, I’m leaving. Gai: Could it be? You’re scared I can cut much faster than you! Kks: I am not scared. Gai: Good, I think we have another lid! Kks: YOU-!

Dai: Great to see growing boys with such a hunger! I’ll never have to prep onions again! Kks: I think about that everytime I chop onions now. You’ve altered my brain with all the ridiculous things you’ve done. Can’t even look at the toys you’ve gotten the dogs without getting emotional

Kks: Just knowing you’re here still, I can barely function. It’s pretty pathetic... Your hair’s getting long. Turning into your dad.

[gai’s heartbeat] Kks: Gai

[gais heartbeat continues]

[gai’s heartbeat continues] Kks: If anything should happen to me, you’ll rush over, right? Gai: Damn right, I will. Dont you worry about that.

[Gai’s heartbeat]

Kks: I miss you

[sunnie-angel]

Part 2: The Decision

part 1 | part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason todd easily sees the potential for something more in his friendship with you but resolves to keep his distance.

tags: fluff, self-loathing, off-screen killing

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.8k

a/n: sooo i had planned to get the second chapter out much sooner, wrote it, realized that what i had planned for chapter 3 worked better, had to rewrite chapter 3 as chapter 2, and ended up here (cue the internal screaming). on the upside, that means you’ll all get an update on chapter 3 (formerly chapter 2) much sooner.

Jason Todd has somehow gotten back on track to graduate university, fallen in with a group of friends, and may have found the first person to truly understand him this side of the Pit. He’d been uncertain about finishing university, already dealing with the hassle of running a criminal empire and the tattered threads of his family relationships. But Talia had suggested, “Better not to be consumed by revenge so that one may properly enjoy its results,” and that had been all it took to convince him. Barbara, for all their problems still unresolved, had helped him hide the decision from the bats and hadn’t that been a lovely conversation to have?

Sitting in class that first day had been strange, a sense of deja vu hitting him of all the times he’d sat in classrooms before. A different person answers now when he’s called on to introduce Jason Todd. As part of his time with the League, Talia had arranged for him to take courses by correspondence but none of that had prepared him for it would be like to be in a classroom with a handful of 20-somethings. It makes him feel old to hear them discuss their plans for the future with the surety of a world that will shape itself to their expectations. If he’s honest with himself, it also makes him envious.

He hadn’t expected to be invited to lunch that first day, though he’d at least seen the blonde’s approach. It had been… nice to be noticed, like he was any other 22 year old new to campus and looking for friends. What had really caught Jason’s eye though was Danika’s (that’s what her name was, right?) friend, standing a few rows back. She’d looked downright mortified by her friend’s antics but had smiled tentatively at him anyway. He’d rushed through his meeting with Dr. Okafor, really just confirming a time to discuss his credit transfers. Clearly he’s interrupted yet another embarrassing moment for you, but you handle it with a grace that rivals only Alfred’s ability to deal with inconvenient situations.

That intrigues him though, your kindness even when uncomfortable. Finding out you’re from home, another Crime Alley kid that defied the odds but never forgot your roots endears you to him even more. You bite back, take the attention away from him when you see how flustered he is by Lina calling him pretty and he’s determined now to make you a friend.

You’re smaller than he thought once you’re finally sitting next to him. He’s acutely aware of how the booth forces the two of you together, the long length of him pressed up against your side. The way your knee knocks into his thigh and the soft cushion of where your hip meets his. You’re one of his already, one of those that the Red Hood has claimed as under his protection, but the reality of you drives home who his work is really helping. Your mention of food pulls him out of his thoughts and scrambling to rectify the situation by offering to share his own. He’s positively delighted by your reaction, the way your compliments freely given still have a bite to them that’s honest. A warmth in his stomach that doesn’t originate from the spices in his meal only makes him want to figure out more ways to draw you out of your shell.

You share another class with him in the afternoon and he’s thanking whichever lucky star is smiling down at him that he’ll get you to himself at least once a week for the next few months. Walking into class with an acquaintance, though maybe it's too soon to call you that, is everything he wanted in the time from Before. Lost day dreams of sharing a desk with a friend in high school, hanging out together after, longings for in-jokes and shared histories are rearing their heads. Class passes quickly, a flurry of information and a hyper awareness of how close his body is to yours. It’s only an introductory class, but already he can tell that you’re clever from the few times you speak up. Makes him look forward to the next class when he’d never planned for academics to be his priority.

Class lets out into the evening air just starting to turn crisp with a hint of dampness. He’ll have to go soon, get started with patrol now that darkness was coating the city. He turns to you and distracts himself from the strip of skin where your shirt rides up as you stretch by asking you about your plans for the evening. Walking you to the bus stop is nice, in a quiet kind of way. He stays until he’s sure you’re safely on the bus, doors closing with a pneumatic hiss. Walks off the path and out of the halo of the street lamp until the shadows have swallowed him whole. Takes care to check that no one’s looking and scales the side of the building, gothic stonework rough under his bare palms. Scans the horizon until he’s found your bus again and goes to follow. Thinks that maybe the paranoia that had persuaded him to pack most of his Hood gear in a school bag isn’t the worst thing to suffer from. It’s overboard yeah, but you’re a pretty girl planning to walk alone at night. He just wants to make sure that you get home all right. You weren’t exaggerating when you said the bus stop was only a block from your apartment, but he still breathes easier when he sees the warm glow of lamp light click on through your apartment window. You should have better locks on your window if it’s looking out onto a fire escape, he thinks idly. But its a problem for later and when he’s got a more solid reason to bring it up.

Patrol is quiet most of the night. Buoyed by the unexpected success of the day, his usual route feels brand new. He takes pleasure in the way the wind picks up his jacket and whips it around him, almost laughs out loud at the way his stomach swoops before the grappling line pulls taut. Jason’s managed a full day of normalcy, something that no one thought he could do. Not after everything. He’d talked to people his age that for once weren’t the victim of some terrible crime and came away with the potential for friendships. It’s been a long time since he’s had more than a work related conversation with his men or a cryptic conversation with Talia he doesn’t count all the arguments with his fath— with Bruce. For the first time in a long time being the Hood isn’t the burden it had become. The peace doesn’t last for long though.

A whisper of black fabric on a rooftop just outside of the territory he’s established brings him crashing back down, a reminder of just how badly his attempts at anything other than solitude have fractured. It’s a bracing kind hurt, like when the air’s too cold after a snowfall and you can practically taste the ice crystals as they tear into the soft heat of your lungs. He needs it though, that reminder that no one who knows him is capable of seeing him without the siren call of suspicion following him. That thought follows him through the rest of patrol and the mechanical motions of getting to bed. It solidifies as he drifts off to sleep just as the first rays of light start to clear the skyline. He’ll grasp at this chance to be someone else for a bit, Jason Todd the fresh faced student, but that’s all it’ll be. A façade to keep everyone else from getting too close. Danika, Will, “call me Lina”, Rei, even you. Friends, but at a distance.

Jason doesn’t have any classes on Tuesday, but he runs into you as he exits his meeting with Dr. Okafor. It’s a new building to him, despite the time he’s spent pouring over all of the campus’ blueprints. He turns a corner on a staircase looking for an exit and almost knocks you back down where you’d just emerged from.

“Hey! Are you blind or— oh. Jason.” Your tone goes from indignant to wondering in a second, eyes wide with recognition.

“Not blind, but definitely not paying enough attention. You good though?” And he should probably be a little more sorry about it, but the glee of not having to wait until the next week to see you again outweighs it.

“Oh after the class I just had, it’d take a lot more than that to ruin my day.” A group tries to pass you two on the stairs, buffets the two of you into the railing.

“You wanna take this somewhere else? Give me another chance to ruin your day?” He grins, lopsided but hopeful.

You nod, and he leads the way, hulking figure cutting through the stream of people. He finds a nook on the first floor, big overstuffed chairs surprisingly empty for this time of day. You throw yourself into a chair dramatically, a sigh on your lips as your head tilts back.

“Class really that bad?” He prompts you.

“God I hate assholes that manage to make the most interesting subject painful. Like, at least wait until the second class before you start telling every single student their interpretation is wrong.” You swipe a hand across your face before visibly trying to pull yourself back together. “But as much as I hate Duvall’s teaching it’s mandatory for my program so I’m just gonna have to put up with his shit until next semester. Get my revenge during prof evaluations.”

“Look we don’t know each other that well, but by my reckonin’ you know what you’re on about. Don’t let him shake you, yeah?”

“Oh I know all about not listening to people that think my opinion isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. It just pisses me off that I still gotta deal with it every week for the foreseeable future.”

“Hey I’m all ears.” He offers, and it’s not entirely altruistic. Jason wants to support you, but it’s also a chance to learn more about you. It’s all a chance to be regular civilian he tells himself, and a civilian would do this for a friend.

“I’d love to but I think it’s right about—“ and the alarm on your phone sounds out, “yep, its about time for me to head to my internship.” You start to gather your things together. “But usually our group gets together on Wednesday afternoons to grab lunch and study together. We usually grab the same table in the student union around noon if you want to join us.”

Jason does join the study session, not that he needs to. But it's nice to spend time with people who like who they think he is. He arrives just as you slide into the booth, secures himself the seat next you (and the rest of the bench for himself). Your hair falls as you spread out your books and Jason’s close enough to smell whatever product you used last. It dazes him for a minute, and its only the arrival of Lina and Rei that shakes him out of his stupor. He starts up a conversation with Rei on the Gotham U swim team and gets roped in to come practice with him sometime next week. Not to be out done, Lina gently starts asking him how he’s settling in. He answers noncommittally, more focused on the way you’ve started to twirl your pen between your fingers as you come across a particularly dense passage. Seeming to understand that she won’t get much more out of Jason, Lina nudges Rei and they turn to their own books, though not without a tight-lipped and knowing smile on her face. The four of you work in silence broken only by the scribbling of pens and clacking of keyboards. Danika and Will turn up just as your stomach starts rumbling, causing you to meet Jason’s eyes in embarrassment.

He winks at you, before pulling out two Tupperware containers with chopsticks. Sliding one over to you he pretends not to notice as at first you protest, then guiltily start digging in as soon as you smell it.

Brandishing your chopsticks at him, you say “Don’t think I’m not keeping score mister. This has got to count as psychological warfare, there’s no way a sane person could turn you down after tasting your food once.”

He tucks a smile away and simply keeps eating. Will drags over some chairs for him and Danika, the one extra person throwing off your previously established seating arrangements. Conversation buzzes at the other end of the table but he can’t tear his attention away from you enjoying the labours of his hands. Eventually the table turns back to studying and you slide the container back to him with murmured words of thanks. Even you can only study for so long, so it's no great surprise when your books softly thump closed. You rest your forehead on the table and groan.

“Why is there so much reading? It’s only the first week back.”

“Ooooh, you know what that means though?” Danika exclaims. “We have to celebrate the first week back and that means going out! We’ll get dressed up, I’ll do your makeup, we can pregame at mine. You know you want to.” She wheedles.

You mock groan at her pronouncement, turn to rest your temple on the table to make eye contact with her. “Lina does my makeup and we’re done by 1 AM.”

“Awe, killjoy,” the blonde pouts.

“Lina does my makeup, Jason’s in charge of picking the post-club takeout, and we’re done by 2 AM. Final offer.”

Lina grins at Jason before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Jason’s not sure what to expect when he shows up to the address Danika had sent through the group text. It’s a nicer part of town, a part of Gotham Heights he’s had no reason to visit as either of his identities. The doorman lets him in without too much fuss once Danika calls down to confirm he’s expected. She lets him in excitedly, limbs uncoordinated with the help of a few drinks. Rei leans forward to pour Jason a drink and at the same time you turn to look for who had arrived. The first thing Jason notices is the shiny red lip gloss you’re wearing as your lips spread into a smile at the sight of them. Something about the colour, bolder than you usually wear, sends heat straight to his groin. He hadn’t even realized that his hearing had gone muffled until Rei asks him for a second time how many shots Jason wants in his drink. Oh, he thinks distractedly. This could be a problem.

It definitely is a problem when he’s washing blood off his hands in the early hours of the morning and the only thing he can think of is that same cherry red lip gloss wrapped around the straw of your drink under the club’s strobing lights. How you’d looked up at him with pupils dilated from the drink and the heat, lips parted and gloss catching the light. The self-loathing hits then, crippling in its intensity. You’re smart and funny and so pretty it makes his breath catch. The last thing you need is him fantasizing after you less than an hour after he’d taken a life. The colour of a man’s life blood shouldn’t be causing him desperate to see if you’d taste as sweet as you look. It’s selfish and cowardly but he doesn’t want to give you up just yet. Doesn’t want to see the little smiles and commiserating looks turn to fear and hatred just yet. No, he can do this. He can smile and play nice, play at the Jason Todd you deserve. The one that won’t make you worry or hurt you with the truth of himself. Rules, he decides, rules are what he needs because it’s oh so easy to get caught up in you.

He can get close, but he can’t touch. It doesn’t matter how soft your skin looks or how tempting it would be to play with your hair. If he lets himself touch he is lost.

He will never let himself enter your home. He’s already followed you there, it’s a lost cause to pretend that he won’t check up on your safety. Better to decide now to never cross that final threshold.

He won’t let you in. He’ll be the best friend he is capable of being but he won’t let you see the truth of him. After all, it’s what’s sent those that know him running.

He will never tell you that he’s ever thought about anything more than friendship.

Part 3

[rose-of-gabriel]

My Teammates, My Friends

Set at the end of s1 ep12: Basic Straining

Harold's revenge doesn't go the way he planned. Courtney reflects on what her team means to her.

Beginning of a series of Season 1 rewrites bc I still love Duncney and can't let things go.

It was the breeziest Courtney had ever felt going into a bonfire ceremony. Yes, they’d lost the challenge, and she was fully prepared to start strategizing again in the morning, but for right now everything just felt right. Duncan stood amongst their fellow Killer Bass members on the other side of the fire pit, meeting her gaze before giving a dramatic roll of his eyes at how much Chris was milking his time at the podium. Courtney ducked her head, a heat rising in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the burning embers of the fire.

Even when Bridgette and Geoff were called, leaving her in the usually precarious position of bottom two, she didn’t feel worried. For maybe the first time in this competition, her team actually felt like her friends. It was probably - definitely - sad to admit, but she’d never experienced that before. Every “team” she’d ever been a part of - debate team, model UN, student council - had all been so performative and impersonal for everyone involved. Courtney would call those people her friends but she knew it wasn’t the kind of friendship she read about in books or magazines; friends who made you feel at ease, who had your back unconditionally. Yes, she was aware that this was still a competition, but as long as the teams remained, there was a tentative, hopeful, nearly forgotten part of her that trusted the four people before her more than she had anyone else in a long, long time.

These thoughts wrenched to a halt when she realized Chris had cut himself off mid-monologue. She re-focused, expecting to see military personnel or aliens raining down on them since there wasn’t anything else she could think of that would make Chris surrender the spotlight. There was no surrender, though. The devious, snake-like expression curling across his features opened up a pit in Courtney’s stomach, and from the looks of her teammates she could tell they’d noticed the pause with equal trepidation.

“Now campers,” Chris said, setting the plate and final marshmallow atop the podium before reaching into the placket of his shirt, “we have an interesting development.” He produced a folded stack of paper and held it aloft. “See... according to the ballots we received in the ballot box, every. single. person. voted Courtney off.”

The pit in her stomach imploded, leaving her sick and dizzy. She barely heard the reaction of her teammates over the rush of blood in her ears.

Pressure built behind her eyes as her gaze ricocheted across their faces, landing finally on Duncan, or where he would have been had the punk not already taken several imposing steps in Chris’ direction. “Dude, no fucking way! ”

Chris jumped backwards, raising the ballots high in one hand and throwing the other up in front of him. “ Hey! Hold it, hold it, hold it!”

Geoff and DJ both reached to grab Duncan’s shoulders, and while he did stop, his expression was murderous. Chris continued quickly. “All six ballots were for Courtney, making me and the producers more than a little curious as to why one of our fiercest competitors would vote herself off. So we went back and had a looksie at the confessional booth footage.”

Chris inclined his head to where Chef Hatchet was laboriously pushing an old dolly with an even older projection set up the slope toward the bonfire. While Courtney by no means had her barings back, she still noticed how Harold’s shoulders had hiked up to his ears and he had scooted as far from her on the log stool as he could. Suspicion stirred in her mind but she was too rattled to interrogate it.

“Lights please!” Chris called. The array of tiki torches and lanterns surrounding the fire pit suddenly faded to nothing, the only light now coming from the bonfire and the harsh, white light of the mobile projector. “Chef, if you would be so kind, roll tape!”

Chef arranged the projector so it displayed on one of the massive, flat rock faces that walled in the area. He pulled a VHS tape from the front pocket of his apron and opened a compartment on the side of the projector. Before he inserted the tape, though, Harold burst to his feet. “Wait!” he screamed, throwing his spindly body in front of the lens. “Wait, you don’t have to show it.”

“Oh, don’t we?” Chris grinned.

Courtney’s nerves were frayed to the point of snapping. “ Harold.” She growled, rising to her feet with her fists clenched. “ What did you do?”

Duncan was next to speak, cracking his knuckles. “You are dead, shrimpy.”

Unaffected by their outbursts, Chris continued coolly. “You’ve got a choice here, Harold. We can either play the tape or not, but somebody has to walk the dock of shame tonight.”

Everyone had put the pieces together by now; even Geoff’s usual half-grin was soured in a glare. Duncan started toward their condemned team member, but Courtney beat him to it. Harold shrieked and covered his face, but instead of clocking him Courtney grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt. Though he had a good few inches of height on her, Courtney yanked him down with enough force that his knees buckled, putting them at eye-level.

Her voice simmered with intensity as she hissed his name. “You have exactly five minutes to get on that boat. Because if I watch what I think is on that tape and you’re still on this island, I promise that you are never. leaving it. Understand?”

“Yes.” He squeaked, eyes nervously flitting between her and the team.

The instant she released her grip he was gone, sprinting for all his worth back to the cabins. Courtney inhaled deeply through her nose, efforts to calm herself ruined by Chris chiding, “Easy, Courtney. Chef’s gonna escort him to make sure he doesn’t hide out anywhere and to make sure no one tries to deal out their own justice, vigilante style.” He chuckled. “Although that would be awesome. ”

For a second Courtney thinks she might actually punch Chris’ lights out, but the host is saved by Bridgette throwing her arms around her teammate. “Oh my gosh, Court! Those were like the worst two minutes of my life.”

Two minutes? Had all of that really just happened in two minutes. Courtney felt like she’d just stepped off a rollercoaster and her stomach was finally catching up with her. When Bridgette released her, she pressed the heels of her palms against her forehead and closed her eyes. There was sound and movement all around her but nothing concretely registered except for the rough, warm pressure of a hand sliding down her spine to rest at her lower back.

“You okay?” Duncan said into her ear, so quiet she wasn’t sure if anyone else heard.

His voice and his hand on her back were the anchors she needed to feel like she was on solid ground again. She dropped her hands from her face and her shoulders fell with them as she surveyed the teens around her. Bridgette was visibly the most affected, hazel eyes wide like Courtney would vanish if she blinked. Geoff and DJ wore similar looks of both sympathy for Courtney and anger for the situation, and Duncan…

Well, Courtney didn’t know what to make of the look he was giving her. It was somehow soft and warm yet still retained its fierceness from before. She wasn’t sure if it was the intensity of his gaze or the crash of adrenaline that made her shiver. “I’m good.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt.

“Man, that is one sick little dude.” DJ groused, crossing his arms over his chest.

Geoff added, “Yeah, Court, that was wickedly messed up. Sorry, brah.”

Courtney shifted her weight just a fraction to press more firmly into Duncan’s hand, forcing a steady exhale from her lungs. “I’m just glad he was dumb enough to make all of the ballots the same.”

“Seriously.” Duncan agreed, pulling her an inch closer.

She turned her head to look up at him, nerves settling enough to crack a smile. “You have any experience with voter fraud?”

“Pfffft, that’s weak shit.” He dismissed, though the corner of his mouth ticked upward.

The vice in her chest eased, and the airiness from before was returning. These were her friends , friends who were angry on her behalf and happy that she was still here. Friends that surrounded her with support but she knew would give her space if she asked for it. That was the last thing she wanted, though, threading her arm across Duncan's back.

“Anyone up for stealing some brownies from the mess hall while Chef’s distracted?” She asked.

Geoff whistled, “Heck yeah!” at the same time Duncan praised, “Atta girl.”

It was DJ who hesitated. “Sure you don’t wanna see the ginger twerp off, Court? I know I’ll be happy to see him go.”

Courtney hummed thoughtfully. “The look on his face would be pretty satisfying.” Her gaze flickered to Duncan’s with a mirrored grin. “If we’re quick we can do both.”

The expression on Duncan's face turned wolfish as he addressed the group. “You heard the lady.” He said and the five of them took off toward the mess hall, Courtney’s heart soaring with every step.

[paperhats-and-evil-schemes]

Lovestarved (Rewrite)

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted [...], but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...” “’Thank you’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “What have I told you, Flug? Your… gratitude…” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“ He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “Thank you.” He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms. After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, flat-toned, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.”

Okay look I know the White Hat fic’s been a long time coming and I’m definitely still working on it, but oh my god the complete and utter abomination that was the original Lovestarved fic was driving me completely insane, I HAD to give it a revamp for my own peace of mind lmfao, my GOD, IT WAS SO BAD YOU GUYS IDC WHAT YOU SAY I'M SORRY SZTEFA BUT YOU'RE W R O N G LMAO

So anyway, have the not-perfect-but-still-very-much-improved fanfic of a Monster!Flug x BH slowburn in which these idiots keep idioting around each other 24/7 until things happen lol (Btw one of my mutuals recently got instabanned for merely mentioning a certain phrase, so since I’m not sure how tumblr is deciding to auto-flag posts and I don’t wanna go through the headache of having to get my account reactivated again, this post is only the first half of the fic (the safe portion lol) and then there’ll be a link to the AO3 version at the bottom of this post for when things start to get on the risqué side.)

And of course, this fic series is based on this wonderful fic right here!

Previous works in chronological order: Hired, Don’t Try to Run, Lovestarved, Trial & Trust, Deeper Than Skin, A Small Solace, In Sickness and in Health, Benefit of the Doubt, Just Another Word I Never Learned to Pronounce, Merry (Late) Christmas, Compromise

Flug had never intended for this to happen.

Never in a million years had he planned on revealing this part of him to anybody , let alone Black Hat himself. Sadly, it’s not easy to sweep the unfortunate incident of devouring a test subject right in front of him under the rug. Then again, given his boss’s nature of being able to slip into any room unnoticed, perhaps Flug should’ve prepared for such an inevitable possibility. 

Oh well. Too little, too late, as some might say. At least Black Hat hadn’t reacted as negatively as Flug thought he might. On the contrary, in fact, Black Hat seemed to find Flug’s otherworldly nature quite amusing. Yet another reaction that his scientist perhaps should’ve expected to some extent. 

What he never could’ve expected was the change in attitude, however.

Yes, ever since that day, Black Hat had been treating him differently. It was subtle enough that any bystander likely wouldn’t notice a difference in their relationship. But Flug definitely took notice, especially in how his superior spoke to him.

He was still his usual brash, hostile self, but every once in a while, sprinkled in between whatever myriad of scathing remarks and scoldings Flug would face on any given day (and even those had lessened significantly), Black Hat would sometimes praise him. The first time Flug heard the words “Good work” out of his boss’s mouth, he thought he’d been hallucinating, as that explanation seemed far more likely.

Furthermore, Black Hat continued to surprise Flug by not broadcasting his secret to the rest of the household. He’d been certain that his boss would’ve gotten a kick out of airing his dirty laundry for everyone to see, if only for the sole reason that Flug gravely didn’t want that. Yet, Black Hat held back. Didn’t speak a word about it to 5.0.5. or Demencia. Not that Flug would risk getting too comfortable in that regard, of course. Whatever Black Hat’s motivations may have been, it definitely wasn’t coming out of a place of respect for Flug’s privacy. Knowing his boss, he was probably just waiting for either of their housemates to walk in on him devouring someone so he could indulge in whatever chaos might unfold. Or perhaps there was some other reason that Flug hadn’t considered. He certainly knew better than to try and guess what Black Hat was thinking, regardless.

Not all of the changes in Black Hat’s behavior were so positive, though. For one thing, his unnerving fascination with Flug’s souleater half has led to some rather uncomfortable arrangements. On the one hand, Black Hat providing him with prey saves Flug the trouble of having to sneak around anymore to feed himself, but on the other, his boss had a peculiarly keen interest in watching him eat. That was already bad enough, having to put what Flug had tried so hard to keep hidden all his life on full display like that, but it was made even worse by how handsy Black Hat would sometimes get afterwards.

He had a particular fascination with Flug’s teeth. Whether or not that was out of some twisted sense of humor or out of a genuine curiosity of Flug’s species, the doctor couldn’t tell. All he knew is that it was uncomfortable. Every time those hands crinkled up the edges of that paper bag to expose his bloodied mouth, anxiety spiked within him at the mere thought of his mask being pulled off completely. Luckily for Flug, Black Hat never went that far, for the time being. 

“Why do you always do that…?” He had asked once, during one upon too many fang inspections to count.

There was a click of the tongue, Black Hat tilting Flug’s chin whichever way he wanted, as he gave his unconventional answer. “The soul residue intrigues me. Besides, it's the only part of your face I’ve seen thus far. I like to admire it at its bloodiest.” Then he’d flash one of his many shit-eating grins. “Given how long you’ve hidden this from me, I certainly have the right to catch up on what I’ve been missing.”

What could he possibly have been “missing”? He knew Black Hat to enjoy displays of violence the most when they had some heart in them. Flug’s only ever been timid and reluctant in the way that he feeds, unable to understand what entertainment value Black Hat could possibly be getting out of such mediocre murders.

On one particular day, however, the situation differed.

Their domain had fallen under siege by a particularly persistent team of heroes… It would’ve been an all-out attack if Dr. Flug hadn’t activated an emergency forcefield just in time. But for now, all they could do was wait these heroes out until they came up with a proper plan of retaliation. Their anti-hero merchandise was the best there was, of course, but with the sheer amount of opponents waiting outside, the villains were put in a particularly tricky situation. 

Black Hat could easily dispose of the problem, Flug knew for a fact. These heroes were mere ants to somebody with his unimaginable power. But, in typical Black Hat fashion, he chose to instead put this job on Flug and Demencia. 

While Flug could understand to some extent that such matters were too trivial and boring for his boss to face head-on, he had hoped the demon would’ve made an exception in this case. This situation had cut Flug, Demencia, and 5.0.5. off from the outside world until they could find a way around those heroes, which wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that it left Flug without sustenance to keep his monstrous half in check.

Unfortunately for him, Black Hat found more interest in watching how his employees would tackle the problem instead. Because, for him, the slightly-more-interesting route would always be preferred over the easy way out. It’s not like the health of his underlings has ever held priority over his own amusement, so Flug had no right to be surprised. He’d just have to persevere, and he wouldn’t dare complain about his hunger to Black Hat himself. Knowing him, he’d expect Flug to earn his food under these circumstances. The way Black Hat was constantly hanging around the laboratory as he worked further cemented that idea into his mind. 

Instead, he threw himself into his work as if that were an adequate distraction. He did everything he could to keep his mind busy, to keep himself distracted from anything that may lead to one of his episodes, but it was so damn hard when these hunger swings can be so unpredictable. One minute, he would be completely fine, but the next…

“Whatcha workin’ on, doc?”

Hunger making him more irritable than usual, the mere sound of Demencia’s voice had been enough to grate on his nerves these past weeks of siege. It was bad enough that his cravings were already slowing him down far too much, he didn’t need Dem’s constant pestering on top of his current inability to focus. 

Shaking those concerns out of his head, he was none too kind when he answered her. “Oh, I don’t know, Demencia, maybe a solution to our little problem out there?”

Unfazed by the mockery dripping from his voice, her desire for mischief was left perfectly intact. “Oooo, is it cool? Will it blow ‘em up? Liquidize their insides? Lemme see it!” 

She jumped for the flask, and Flug had barely enough reaction time within him to dodge her. “ Stop that! Do you want to get a cloud of knockout gas to the face!?” Flug barked, scrambling to keep his work from falling out of his hands. Once stabilized, he shot her a nasty glare. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She deadpanned in response. Dramatically flopping into a nearby chair, Demencia kept up her annoying lamenting. “We’ve been stuck with those dumb heroes outside for like a week, I’m boooored.”

“Well good for you, but since I’m the only one around here that seems willing to fix this damn mess, I need to focus.” Flug snapped at her, voice raising alongside his frustration, “What I don’t need is some brain-dead halfwit breathing stupid questions down my neck the whole time!”

Demencia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at how intensely he came off. Sure, she could get on his nerves with relative ease, but he usually took it with more grace than that, even at times when he’d sic Hatbots on her. Even Black Hat glanced up from his newspaper upon hearing such unusual hostility growing in Flug, though he reserved comment. 

“Ouch,” Demencia remarked, although not especially offended. “Well, sorry Mr. Grumpypants, didn’t realize you were in such a mood today.” She chided him. “You skip your coffee this morning or what?”

Narrowed eyes shot one last dirty look at her before Flug tried to shift his focus back to his concoction at the lab table. Key word being tried , because before he knew it, he was doubling over from pain when his cravings hit him full-force. He was barely able to catch himself against the table, almost knocking over the work he’d previously scolded Demencia for endangering. 

Serving up a confused stare, Demencia frowned at him. “Uhh, Flug?”

The ruckus also woke 5.0.5. who’d been sleeping nearby, a worried grunt coming from him as he wandered over to see what was going on.

What Flug had feared all along was now fast approaching. This sort of thing was exactly what Black Hat wanted, wasn’t it? For him to expose himself to the others in as violent a manner as possible? And if so, then where the fuck was he? Flug could’ve sworn he was in the room a second ago, and hell, maybe he was too disoriented to know for sure, but he couldn’t see the demon anywhere. 

All he could lock his starving gaze onto was Demencia and 5.0.5., the clueless pair coming foolishly closer to check on him. They’d make easy targets. They were practically offering themselves up on a silver platter. How could Flug possibly refuse the instincts that were screaming at him to eat?

“Okay, Flug, this is weird, even for you.” 

For the briefest of moments, he saw his mother, so stupidly drawing nearer in his state of delirium. She should have known better. She made herself too easy of an antidote to his suffering. The exact same mistake that Demencia was making now.

He wished he could tell her to get away. He wanted desperately to warn her of what danger she was in. But he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t stop himself from inching his starving body nearer, itching to dig his teeth into something –

“Demencia, step aside.” Black Hat’s familiar voice ordered from the doorway, yielding immediate compliance from her. With adept swiftness, he strode over to the unhinged doctor and proceeded to drag him away from his coworkers before any damage could be done, exiting the laboratory with Flug in tow, and leaving Demencia and 5.0.5. to their own confusion.

Black Hat dragged him through hallways and corridors, paying no mind to his scientist’s resistance. Flug’s thrashing wasn’t particularly troublesome for Black Hat, although he felt mild surprise to experience a jolt of pain inflicted by Flug’s fangs when they tried to find nourishment in the tendrils that restrained him. Judging from the retching and gagging that followed, Black Hat’s soulless form wasn’t exactly fine dining to him. 

They entered a darkened storage room, the only light source coming from a flickering bulb above that fought to stay lit. Within, there laid a hero, injured and bound in place by whatever impromptu restraints Black Hat could find in the moment. 

“Eat.” Black Hat ordered as he shoved Flug towards the helpless fool.

As if Flug needed any convincing. 

The second he was released from Black Hat’s grip, he lunged for the hero, tearing into him with such ruthless ferocity, ripping flesh out in bloody chunks that were strewn across the room with great fervor. The crackling and snapping of bones that’d dared get in the way of Flug’s relentless fangs was like music to Black Hat’s ears. The only way this could’ve been better was if the hero had remained alive long enough to scream.

Out of breath by the time Flug was through with him, it took almost a full minute for him to regain his composure. 

“My my, what a savage display.” Black Hat purred in amusement, drawing nearer to admire the carnage. “You’ve been holding out on me, doctor.”

“W-Wha… Wait, th-this is a hero f-from outs-side, isn’t it…?” Flug queried as he came back to his senses, casting a hesitant glance his boss’s way.

“They make for easy pickings. You looked like you needed something rather immediate.” Black Hat replied, wiping bloodied claws off on his clothes. With a disapproving quirk of the brow, he added, “You could have said something sooner , by the way. It’s not like I knew where your breaking point was.”

Flug couldn’t believe it. Defying all of his expectations, Black Hat actually prevented him from hurting his friends. Not only that, but kept his secret from being exposed. He had been so certain that the eldritch wanted the drama and chaos that would’ve come with him attacking 5.0.5. or Demencia, but now, with every manipulative and cruel assumption Flug had made being tossed out the window, he had no idea what to think anymore. When he next spoke, his voice was but a meek stutter. “Th-Thank you, sir...”

“’ Thank you ’?” Black Hat repeated, a ghostly twitch of annoyance betraying his smile for just a moment. “We have been over this, doctor. Your… gratitude …” That last word was uttered with notable disgust, “… is gravely misplaced. I only—“

He was stunned into silence when Flug unexpectedly clutched his hand. “You stopped me from hurting them.” The scientist spoke more firmly in spite of how his own hands trembled against Black’s. Flug dared not make eye contact, instead staring directly at the floor. “ Thank you. ”

He had almost expected to get lashed out at or shouted at for grabbing Black Hat so suddenly, and when he realized his mistake, he immediately let go… but Black Hat did neither of those things. He just stared, expression completely blank to the point of almost being comical, at where Flug had touched him. That doesn’t happen. People don’t touch him. He touches people. On his terms.

After the initial confusion wore off, his cold and calculative eyes pierced right through Flug. “… Well.” He finally spoke, his voice flat and rigid, “You can thank me by getting rid of those pests outside.” 

With that, the demon took his leave. Flug watched him go, blinking slowly as he tried to process what just happened…

… No. He can think about this later. For now, he had an order to carry out.

After cleaning himself up and changing out of his bloodsoaked clothes, Flug returned to the lab with newfound energy and determination. He threw himself at his experiment with ultimate focus, not allowing Demencia or even Black Hat’s presence distract him, despite how intently the latter was watching him.

Flug completed the substance within the hour, and it did not disappoint. Everything went according to plan. Firing the gas bomb at their intruders did the trick, knocking them out just long enough for Demencia to dispose of them without a single issue. 

When all was said and done, Black Hat approached the doctor from behind as he disarmed the forcefield, causing him to jump in surprise when the demon patted his shoulder. “Well done, doctor.” He said simply before walking off.

All Flug could do was stare as he left, completely befuddled. 

He had always craved Black Hat’s praise, but now that he’d been getting it, it felt beyond impossible to get used to.

The strange behavior, the way he kept lingering about the lab for no discernable reason other than to watch him, how he’d been keeping Flug’s diet in check, it was all just so… bizarre. Flug racked his brain day in and day out trying to solve this mystery, but nothing ever felt like it made sense. It couldn’t be coming from a place of respect, as he knew Black Hat was incapable of respecting him. He doubted it was coming from a place of any sort of concern, as nothing about their routine had actually changed. If anything, Flug was more healthy than usual these days due to Black Hat’s assistance in keeping him properly fed.

Perhaps it was something more akin to keeping a pet. Of course, that must be it. Black Hat likely had him lumped in the same category as Lil Jack these days, just a pet to feed and maintain.

While that dehumanizing assumption made the most sense so far, Flug still couldn’t be sure…

One day, curiosity finally got the better of him. He knew he should know better than to question Black Hat, but he just couldn’t help himself this time.

It was on another day that, as was becoming usual, Black Hat had joined him in the laboratory, overseeing his work from a distance. Flug couldn’t actually be sure how much Black Hat was actually paying attention to the invention he was building, but he worked as diligently as he could under his boss’s silent supervision all the same.

A handray of sorts laid in pieces on the table while the doctor fiddled a screwdriver inside the mechanism. Black Hat had taken to leaning against the wall by the door, not a word spoken by him this whole time.

Flug nervously glanced back at him for a moment, quickly averting his eyes back to the device when he was caught staring. Finally, he forced himself to say it. “… Y-You’ve been… a-acting strangely since you first saw me feed, sir…”

“Strangely?” Black Hat’s cold voice repeated, examining his claws without a care in the world. “What are you implying?”

That ice, that frosty and bitter manner in which his boss spoke, had always rattled Flug’s nerves. It was almost enough to discourage him entirely from completing his train of thought, but he knew that would likely annoy Black Hat even more. He put his screwdriver down, turning to face the demon. “W-w-well, it’s, u-um… er…”

“Out with it, doctor.” Black Hat snapped impatiently. He cast the other man a challenging stare, as though daring him to say something he’ll regret.

At this, Flug hesitated. A lump had started forming in his throat, preventing him from speaking. Black Hat’s glare was definitely making the doctor have second thoughts about saying anything at all. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to speak through his discomfort. “Y-You’ve been treating me differently.”

Black Hat’s visible eye slowly narrowed, but he decided to amuse his doctor. “Oh really? How so?” He said in a sort of sarcastic, dry tone, taking a step forward.

No backing down now. Straightening his back, Flug tried very hard not to flinch away at his boss’s advances. “Well…” He began, fiddling with his hands, “You’ve been, um… H-How do I put this… nicer …?”

That was a big mistake the moment he said it, Flug’s eyes going wide once he realized his mistake far too late. Rage flashed across Black Hat’s face, the demon’s familiar growl ringing through Flug’s ears as he came closer. Flinching back and shielding his face with an arm, Flug almost fell over the table behind him as he tried to back away. “W-W-Wait, I didn’t  m-mean it like tha–!” He cut himself off with a fearful yelp as Black Hat yanked him forward by the neck of his shirt, his threatening form towering over the doctor.

“How did you mean it , then?” Black Hat snarled, voice dripping with a biting venom.

“Y-You’ve been acting like you think I have more worth now!” Flug squeaked, hiding his face behind his arms with eyes squeezed shut, a clear exasperation lingering among the fear in his words. “Like because I’m half monster, that changes things!”

Expecting to get pummeled in the next few seconds, it was to Flug’s great surprise that Black Hat let him go. Risking a timid peek at his boss, his jaw almost dropped. Why was he laughing all of a sudden?

“Of course it changes things!” Blackhat grinned, as though it were ridiculous for Flug to suggest otherwise. For some reason, that prickled at Flug’s nerves. “Now that I’ve seen what you are– ”

“What I am doesn’t change anything! I’m still the same Flug I’ve always been!” 

In a moment of surprise, Black Hat’s grin faltered. He’d never heard Flug take such a tone with him before, nor had he seen that particular look of frustration, dressed with hints of defiance, within Flug’s eyes.

“Have you been basing my value on species this whole time?” The scientist went on, irritation building, “What, I’m suddenly worth more to you just because I’m less human? Is that why you haven’t been kicking me around as much? Are you seriously that shallow?” With a scoff, Flug looked away, brows furrowed in anger. “If my being a human really disgusted you that much, I don’t get why you haven’t just replaced me with someone more your style.”

There was a tense moment of silence between them, although the tension was likely only on Flug’s side. Eventually, Black Hat spoke again.

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve dared to raise your voice at me, doctor.”

… Wait… 

Shit.

“I’m sorry…!” He squeaked in fear, cringing away from Black Hat in anticipation of being struck. Realization of how badly he screwed up hit him like a semi truck, and he scrambled over his words trying to do damage control in whatever way he could. “I-I don’t know w-what c-came over me! I-I’m v- very sorry, sir…!”

No violence came his way, however. Instead, Black Hat eyed him with what Flug could only describe as intrigue. His head tilted a smidge to the side, not unlike that of a curious animal. When he next spoke, it was with a kind of guileless tone completely foreign to Flug’s ears. “I have always valued you, Flug.” 

A disbelieving snort escaped Flug before he had the chance to stop it, slapping a hand over his mouth the second such a disrespectful noise had come out. How or why Black Hat hadn’t lashed out at him yet, Flug had no idea.

“You think I would have hired some annoying, sniveling little human if you weren’t of significant value to me? I know you’re smarter than that, doctor.” He drew closer, much to Flug’s discomfort. “In spite of what a pitiful sight you made, it was your intelligence that’d far made up for that. Your intelligence, your dedication, your perseverance, I have seen it all. From the day I met you, I knew your talents were exceptional.”

Baffled by such claims, Flug could do nothing more than stare in disbelief as his boss spoke.

“You impressed me that day, Dr. Flug. I can count on one hand the number of humans that’ve accomplished such a feat.” He went on, circling Flug to admire the work he had laid out on the table. “Humans are one of the most irritating and pathetic species I’ve ever come across in all my years. To have ended up relying on one for the sake of my business has been no less than a major frustration to me. Without you, who the hell do you think would be making all of our products?”

“I-I-” Flug started to speak, but was quickly silenced by the raise of Black Hat’s hand. Clearly, he had more to say.

“In a way, you’re not wrong. It does please me knowing that you’re not entirely human. You are something better. But, you’ve always been better than other humans in my eyes.” When he next turned to face Flug, it was with a narrow-eyed stare on his face. “So, don’t you dare suggest that I haven’t valued you until now. If that were true, I’d have left you dead in that alley all those years ago.”

At that moment, Flug had been rendered speechless. This was the first time Black Hat’s ever verbalized any sort of appreciation for Flug’s work, especially in such a direct manner. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, tempted to reach out and poke the eldritch to make sure it was actually him and not some sort of caffeine hallucination.

Instead, he averted his eyes. As comforting as that was to hear, it didn’t change the main problem.

“You don’t treat your valuables very well, then.” Flug’s hesitant voice spoke up.

With a boisterous laugh, Blackhat twirled his cane idly. “So what? That’s of no consequence to me.”

“You seem to forget that I’m breakable, sir. It is a consequence if I decide to leave.” If he really is as valuable as Black Hat says... Looking away, he muttered under his breath, “It’s definitely something I’ve considered.”

That came as no surprise to Black Hat. He’s seen the collection of house and apartment ads the doctor’s compiled and occasionally glanced through when his boss’s temper was especially testy. But surely he’d never actually go through with leaving. Not after all the work he put in to get here. It would be absurd.

Not paying the comment much mind, Black Hat decided he was done with this conversation and headed for the door. “Get that ray done. We start filming in two hours.”

Such dismissive behavior was what Flug was used to letting roll off his back. But, this time, it felt like it didn’t matter at all compared to the other things his boss had said.

It was beyond reassuring to know that Black Hat found him important for what really mattered. There had been many a day where Flug had wondered if all of his efforts were actually counting for anything, in that regard.

Now, he won’t have to wonder. 

Something new to wonder about, however, was why this conversation had left him feeling so flustered …

Their uncharacteristically genuine conversation didn’t mean everything was sunshine and daisies, of course. After all, This is the house of evil. Can’t expect much else. What Flug was used to was being yelled at. Though there was one recent incident in particular that had been… strange.

As usual, Black Hat was eager to advertise anti-hero merchandise to their viewers. The demon rarely ever began recording early without first informing Flug, but today was, unfortunately, one of those days. He already had Cam-bot recording before Flug was even in the room. It’s not like he needed Flug there, anyways, so he just went ahead and started without him. The product seemed simple enough, some kind of fireball launcher of sorts.

Black Hat was well into the presentation by the time Flug had gotten there. The doctor had appeared somewhat rushed, and was carrying with him a toolbox.

His eyes widened with terror when he entered the room to see his boss already wielding the product.

“… and with just the click of a button, your local hero will be enveloped in a Hellish blaze!” Black Hat took aim at a target across the room.

“Sir, no!” Flug shouted, darting towards him, “There’s a chemical imbalance that still needs to be–!”

Too late.

There was a flash, then a blast of intense heat as the weapon backfired. Cam-bot went toppling over sideways, making a series of distressed beeping noises, and Black Hat let out a startled snarl as his arm was blown clean off. That wasn’t too much of a concern, however, as a stream of inky black energy quickly formed a new one.

He wheeled around, eyes blazing with rage as he faced the now-shivering Flug. “You IDIOT!!!” He roared, storming over to the scientist and roughly gripping his arm. “Is your job to have our products ready in time or IS IT NOT!?”

“I-I-I’m sorry….!” Flug yelped, cowering. “I-I thought I h-had more time…! I just needed to make one minor adjustmen–” He cut himself off with a pained outcry as Black Hat’s grip tightened, near threatening to break his arm.

“I don’t want to hear EXCUSES, YOU BLOODY– You…” Black Hat trailed off, a whisper of that recent conversation with the doctor echoing in his head.

You don’t treat your valuables very well.

You seem to forget that I’m breakable.

Staring over the terrified doctor now, the way he immediately expected the worst, something felt… off. Black Hat was the one that decided to start early and without Flug’s knowledge… but that still shouldn’t excuse not having it ready before the deadline, so–!

“Sir…?” Flug’s voice, tiny and horrified as it may have been, managed to shake Black Hat out of his thoughts. Fearful eyes gazed up at him with a hint of confusion on top of the pain. Very slowly, Black Hat loosened his grip, then let go altogether and took a step back.

Flug stepped back as well at the first chance he got, gripping his hurt arm close to himself. He gave a puzzled frown. “S-Sir…. are you…. alright….?”

… How could he be asking that? It seemed so… backwards.

… It doesn’t matter.

“Get this mess cleaned up…” Black Hat finally said, his voice unusually low, “… and fix that infernal Cam-bot…” 

Then, he was gone before Flug could even reply.

Watching the door close behind his boss, Flug winced as he rubbed his arm. Sighing, he picked up the dropped toolbox and turned to Cam-bot. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then…”

A flood of blood trickled down the now-lifeless body and onto the floor, Flug’s shaking arm wiping away what dribbled from his chin. With a chunk of neck completely missing from the corpse on the operation table in front of him, it was leaving quite the mess. The doctor tentatively reached up to pull his paper bag back down and cover his mouth, but Black Hat’s cane pulled his arm away before he could. Flug squirmed slightly beneath his boss’s touch as he lifted his chin , discomfort setting in him, but Black Hat paid that no mind.

A gloved thumb lightly grazing across the edge of Flug’s fangs, Black Hat’s expression was oddly monotone today. “… So, tell me.” He said suddenly. “If I’m so unbearable to live with, why do you stick around?”

“S-Sir….?” Flug responded, caught off guard by the question.

“You’re not being forced to stay here.” The eldritch went on. “You said yourself that you’ve considered leaving. Many other villains would be glad to take you. So why do you stay?”

Flug was quiet for a long moment, considering what he should say. Truly, there was only one right answer. “… B-Because the other villains aren’t you.”

At that, Black Hat paused, a twitch of surprise on his features for a second. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Elaborate.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Flug started to fiddle with the sleeves of his labcoat. “W-W-Well, um… I-I mean, you’re… successful, c-confident, accomplished…” Oh gosh, why did he have to be listing off things he admires about his boss while they were in this position? Hardly any distance between them, and Black Hat leaned in closer with every word! Swallowing again, he tried not to get too flustered as he continued, “I-It’s just… well, you’re Black Hat. You’re one of a k-kind, the best there is. I don’t– I-I refuse to settle for less than the best.” Sheepishly, he looked to the ground, voice quieting. “You’re everything I’m not.”

Silent for quite some time, Black Hat found he was only able to give Flug a dumbfounded stare. The demon’s never had a tendency for modesty, for Flug to be so upfront about both his admirations and insecurities felt strange as can be. It was a combination that Flug likely never would’ve spoken aloud if left unprompted. Then, a smile began to form on Black Hat’s face. “Well, aren’t you the little ego-booster.” He purred, chuckling. “Although…” Stepping back and rubbing his chin in thought, Black Hat tilted his head and looked Flug up and down. “For one thing, if it’s something like confidence you’re wanting improvements on, you really shouldn’t spend your time hiding underneath that paper bag.”

Flinching back, Flug subconsciously ran his fingers across the edge of the bag. “N-N-No. I-I need it.”

“… Tsk. Fine, then. But still, I am curious…” Taking a step forward again, Black Hat brushed at the paper bag with his fingers. Flug jolted back before he could get a proper grip, almost tumbling over the body table in the process. Black Hat simply reached out with his cane, hooked it around Flug’s neck, and yanked him forward. With the other hand, he reached for the bag again.

“No!” In a panic, the trembling scientist grabbed his arm with both hands in an attempt to stop him, eyes squeezed shut.

Surprisingly, Black Hat did stop.

Flug hesitantly opened one eye to evaluate the situation. Black Hat was staring at where Flug had gripped him, same dumbfounded expression on his face as from the last time Flug touched him.

Slowly letting go, hoping that he wouldn’t try to remove the bag again, Flug frowned. “… U-Um… sir… I-If you don’t mind my asking…. W-Why is it you look so… bewildered … when I do that…?”

“Hmph,” Black Hat pulled his arm back after being let go, absentmindedly rubbing the spot he had been grabbed. He tried to cover up the bewilderment with a sly smile. “Maybe because the only time people ever dare to touch me is when we’re fighting or having sex. Why else?”

…. Flug chose to ignore that second part. His frown deepened, a touch of his own bewilderment setting in. “… So you’ve… never been, like… just… casually or platonically touched…?” 

Black Hat took a moment to think about it, looking off to the side. He couldn’t recall any instances of such a thing, aside from maybe shaking hands with clients, if that were to count? But those were more like business obligations rather than anything casual or platonic. “Hmm… No, never.” He eventually concluded. His eyes narrowed just slightly when they pulled back towards Flug. “Well, unless we count you.”

Normally Flug might’ve winced away in response to the slow return of hostility in Black Hat, but he was just… too flabbergasted. The concept of going through life without that ever happening seemed so farfetched for some reason, but he supposed if you’re a guy like Black Hat, maybe it’s plausible…..?

After a long moment’s thought, he hesitantly reached out a hand, pausing near Black Hat’s right shoulder as he examined his boss’s face for permission.

Black Hat’s eyes further narrowed with skepticism at the gesture, but he made no protest. So, Flug continued. His skeptical gaze followed Flug’s hand all the way until it had made contact with his shoulder.

It was strange, how all the malice slowly drained from his boss’s face upon contact. The look in his eyes was no longer one of hostility, but rather, curiosity. Perhaps a touch of confusion, but mostly a genuine sort of curiosity that was, in a way, almost innocent-looking. It was a rather strange expression on him, Flug finding himself unable to look away until Black Hat’s questioning pupils darted to Flug’s own face, wondering why he had gone so still.

Quickly averting his eyes, Flug went back to what he was doing. Very slowly, he ran his hand down the demon’s arm, as if he were simply smoothing out the fabric of his sleeve. Gentle, yet so impactful. If he wasn’t mistaken, he could’ve sworn he felt the slightest shiver from his boss as he had done so. Another sneaking glance to Black Hat’s face confirmed that he was just as confused as Flug was about the whole thing.

Slowly still, Flug raised his other hand to meet Black Hat’s chest, just letting it rest there for a while. Then, as if snapped out of a trance, Flug realized all at once how weird this must be getting and jolted backwards, the sudden movement even startling Black Hat a tiny bit. 

“I-I… um… s-sorry, sir…”  There Flug was, getting all flustered again. Why the hell did these strange interactions with his boss keep stirring up such confusing butterflies in the pit of his stomach?

Black Hat raised an eyebrow slightly, but other than that, his expression remained vaguely passive. He ran his own fingers along where Flug had touched him, quiet for some time. Then, his familiar smile crept back along his face as he looked back towards the doctor. “Seems only fair that I’d get to look beneath that bag of yours now, doesn’t it?”

Crap. Flug was hoping he’d forgotten about that. His gaze fell to the floor, accepting defeat with a very hesitant nod. “I-I-I s-sup-ppose so, s-sir…” He stammered, anxiety quickly on the rise.

A victorious purr rumbled in Black Hat’s throat, and he closed the space between himself and his scientist. Hands once again meeting the bottom of Flug’s paper bag, he took unusual care in how he lifted both the bag and goggles off of his face. As soon as those harsh white lights from the room’s fluorescent bulbs hit Flug’s eyes, a sharp yelp left his throat, and he threw his face in his hands to hide. 

“Seriously, Flug?” Black Hat deadpanned, unimpressed.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry. It’s t-too b-bright.” He stuttered, unable to stop trembling.

There was a moment of silence before Flug heard his boss’s voice again. “Open your eyes, doctor.”

Already feeling dizzy and anxious without the comfort of his bag, the thought of being made to endure such harsh lights on top of that was too overwhelming to handle. But the thought of angering Black Hat frightened him even more. So, he fought back every instinct that screamed at him to protect his eyes, stifled whatever stressful noises tried to escape him, and lowered his hands.

To Flug’s surprise, rather than the headache-inducing brightness he was expecting, he was greeted with a well-dimmed room, black smoke swirling above them to significantly dull the lights. No doubt compliments of Black Hat.

View of his scientist no longer obstructed, the wide-grinning demon took hold of Flug’s chin, lifting his head to get a better look. He could feel the halfling swallow nervously, but was too focused on taking in his appearance to notice or comment. Honestly, Flug looked like any normal human being if you looked past the eyes and teeth. 

But Black Hat didn’t. He was especially focused on those eyes, this being the first time he’s ever actually seen them goggle-free.

Flug’s eyes were without a doubt attention-grabbing. Where a human’s eyes would normally be white, Flug’s were an abyss of pitch-black, glowing white pupils being the only contrast to exist within. 

“Captivating…” Black Hat commented under his breath. While the comment was not specifically addressed for Flug, he certainly reacted to it, feeling an intense heat rise to his cheeks. His boss definitely took notice of that, smirk widening in response.

Embarrassed and feeling like he was going to pass out, Flug quickly grasped for his bag and pulled away from Black Hat, struggling to pull it over his head again through short and shaky breaths.

Evidently, having the bag and goggles was a comfort thing as well as an eye protection thing.

Satisfied, Black Hat gave a firm nod and turned for the door, smoke dissipating with a snap of his fingers. “Clean up your mess and get back to work.” He ordered as he left.

Flug had to take a moment to regain himself, doing everything he could to calm his nerves. With the combination of deep breaths and counting numbers in his head to refocus, the doctor slowly but surely found his composure again.

That was… quite the experience… Almost surreal ….

Placing a hand on the side of his head in confusion, Flug shook it off and went to take care of the body. The entire experience didn’t stop running through his head the whole while.

There were no words Flug had that could describe how their altered relationship had continued to shift and morph since then.

Flug first noticed it with the way Black Hat’s eyes studied him, bore through him right to the bone and stripped his soul bare. There lived no mordacity or annoyance behind his constant gazes, which was unnervingly strange in and of itself. Worse was that Flug couldn’t tell what Black Hat was looking at him with. Was it condescension? It didn’t feel like something that negative... Maybe… curiosity? Interest? But interest in what? No matter what explanation his mind tried to present, Flug knew there was something he had to be missing. Something he wasn’t seeing.

The mystery was only made harder to solve by the way Black Hat would touch him. In the past, the only form of physical contact they’d ever shared was aggressive in nature, as Black Hat had a nasty habit of manhandling anybody nearby in his moments of explosive rage. As such, it was hard not to flinch when the demon would put his hands on him. But, especially after that unusual encounter they’d had, his touches have become shockingly gentle. 

What were once brief pats on the back became lingering touches, claws tracing temperate lines along his meek frame, a hand resting on his shoulder just a bit too long… He’d also just stand far closer than usual whenever they were going over work projects together. Flug thought for a moment that perhaps all this time spent around Black Hat’s eldritch presence was finally driving him insane, but there was no way that he could be imagining these things. Out of all things for his mind to try and play tricks with, why something like this?

Furthermore, as someone who’s always enjoyed his alone time, Flug simply couldn’t wrap his head around why Black Hat kept joining him in the lab for the most benign of times. Even today, all he was doing was reading a newspaper with his morning acid, something he usually did in the comfort of his own office.

Occasional glances in his boss’s direction yielded the same results, those strange stares that made Flug feel so vulnerable being aimed back at him every now and then. He tried to focus on his work, to throw himself into his invention to distract from the outside world as usual, but his rattled nerves simply refused to let him do that today.

The next time he found his boss staring, Flug put down his tools, confronting the issue with a meek question.

“A-Are you ups-set with me?”

A glimmer of curiosity passed through Black Hat’s eyes. He put his newspaper down, that unnerving gaze completely honed in on his scientist. “What makes you think I’m upset with you?”

“W-Well, it’s… uh… I-I don’t kn-know, you’ve just b-been kind of…” Flinching slightly as Black Hat rose from his seat to approach him, Flug greatly struggled to finish that thought, looking all around the lab to avoid any sort of eye contact. “Y-y-you’ve b-been s-st- staring a l-lot lately, a-a-and, um–” He backed up as his boss got closer, just barely catching himself when he knocked into the table behind him, “A-and th-the t- touching … I-I just d-don’t u-und-derstand w-what–”

Flug’s stuttering was cut short when Black Hat took the side of his face into his hand, turning the scientist’s head to make their eyes meet.

“Tell me, doctor,” Black Hat purred, “Do I look upset to you?”

“N-n-no…?” Flug squeaked in response.

“There is your answer.” His head lolled to the side, studying Flug far too closely for comfort. His hand slinked down from Flug's face, the doctor withdrawing a sharp breath as deadly claws traced along his neck before finding its new resting place on his shoulder. “Does it bother you when I touch you?”

“W-Would it m-mat-tter if it d-did…?”

The way Black Hat narrowed his eyes at him, the hints of an annoyed frown starting to tug at his lips, quickly startled Flug into correcting his behavior. He straightened his back, answering the question directly this time. “N-no sir, it’s n-no bother.”

Just like that, Black Hat seemed to relax again. “Good.” He pulled his hand away, returning to the couch to pick up his newspaper. “You look like you’re having trouble focusing, so I suppose I’ll leave you to it for now.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

That… did not answer any of Flug’s questions.

Honestly, it was likely in Flug’s better judgment to stop questioning these changes in behavior to Black Hat’s face. Confusing as their new dynamic may have been, at least it was better than getting thrown around like a ragdoll on a near-daily basis. 

That wasn’t the way Black Hat saw it, however.

The way Black Hat saw it, all of this peculiar behavior had been a simple case of testing the waters. Unfortunately, his next move would be one Flug could’ve never prepared for.

Aaaand here’s where things get a little tumblr-unsafe, so to the AO3 void you go! (Please heed the warning tags over there)

[five-bi-five-mind]

Hell or High Water (Pt. 3)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k+

Summary: JJ is dealing with the aftermath of the attack. Will she ever heal?

Warnings: Descriptions of hospital rooms, mention of stitches, honestly a pretty traumatized/depressed JJ. Some brief smut, fingering (r receiving). Let me know if I forgot something!

A/N: I know this took forever. The amount of rewrites this went through, and even then I’m iffy on the ending. But here we are at the final part of this series. Also I highly recommend listening to Hell or High Water by Billy Raffoul while reading this chapter. I mean the whole fic has the vibe but especially this chapter. Anyways, enjoy!

Series masterlist

Part 3: For the Living Touch and Go. Those words rang through JJ’s mind on a constant loop. Your condition was touch and go. She was stuck in this in between of not knowing if her wife will ever wake again. With each rhythmic beep of your heart monitor she felt a little more at ease, but then she’d look at you lying in the hospital bed. You didn’t look like you. Your skin lost its color, your body was still as can be, and you had tubes and wires hooked to just about every inch of you. It killed JJ to look at you, yet she felt like every time she took her eyes off you, you’d slip through her fingers. 

JJ hadn’t slept. It’s been 3 days since you last opened your eyes and when she wasn’t thinking about what the doctors said, she was thinking about those last moments before help arrived. You, broken and bleeding in her arms. JJ only left your side once since then, with the promise that Emily would stay behind and keep an eye on your state while she grabbed some of her things and yours in preparation for your stay in the hospital. She wanted you to wake up to your favorite things. Fuzzy socks and a soft blanket. Not that those were on you now, but for when you did wake up. But there was another reason why she didn’t want to go home. When she did she saw the blood stains on the floor, she would have to deal with that at some point. The minute she went home to gather the things she wanted, she stopped in her tracks when she saw it. Her stomach twisted in disgust and rage. Disgust for the man who did that to you. Even though he was dead now, she wished she could’ve watched him rot in prison instead. And rage at herself, for putting you in that position. For failing you, for letting you get harmed because of her job, for putting you in the hospital in critical condition, not knowing if you’d ever wake up again.

Her fists clenched so hard she felt her nails dig into her palms as she sat across from you. How could she let you end up here? You were so fucking stubborn. If only she had pushed more, insisted more that you leave. Maybe she should’ve given in and gone with you. That was the only way you would’ve ever agreed to leave. She’s never run from an unsub, she’s never left her team like that and it wasn’t in her nature to change that now. But here you both are now because of it. JJ wasn’t one to pray, but she prayed to any higher being who’d listen for you to wake up soon. 

You were minutes from death when they rushed you in, you lost so much blood you slipped into a coma despite their efforts to help you. “Blood loss is the second major cause of comas,” the doctor’s said, “it’s to be expected.” That didn’t make JJ feel any better in the slightest. She waited, blood soaked, in the waiting room until she was allowed to go back to see you. She waited hours upon hours. Luckily, Emily brought her clean clothes before wrapping up the crime scene that was once your home. 

JJ wasn’t always alone with you. Sometimes that felt like a blessing, to be surrounded by the team. All of them came after the case was wrapped up, then as the hours stretched into days they rotated. When they were there, sometimes JJ felt less alone and afraid. But then sometimes it was a curse. She couldn’t look them in the eyes after she first watched their expressions. They’d all look at you with such concern, such sadness and she’d feel that overwhelming sense of failure all over again. Of course, each member of the team knew you and cared for you deeply. You came to social gatherings with JJ, seen all of them and their partners. You were a ray of sunshine and everyone who met you instantly loved you. So it only made sense that seeing you the way you were now would break their hearts too. JJ didn’t know if she would ever get over this guilt. 

“How is she?” Emily broke the silence of the room. JJ was currently hunched over in a chair she pulled up next to your bed, her head hanging low. Emily had just gotten there with food, knowing that her friend wasn’t going to leave your side easily, even to take care of herself.

“No change,” JJ mumbled, her eyes locked on the linoleum floor, refusing to look up at Emily. She knew she’d find a look of sadness and pity, she couldn’t stomach that right now. 

“She’s a fighter,” Emily said, coming up to JJ and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

JJ just mumbled a response and looked back up to where you lay. That you were, JJ was sure of it. You’d wake up, you’d pull through. The question was when. JJ hoped you wouldn’t make her wait long. Each passing moment was agony to her. 

——————————————-

Fortunately for JJ, you did finally open your eyes. In total you had been lying unconscious in that hospital bed for five days. Each one filled with an unbearable anxiety that made JJ feel like the bland white walls of your hospital room were closing in on her. But still, you woke up and that’s what mattered. JJ’s whole world felt like it suddenly resumed from a long pause in the moment your eyes finally met hers. Her heart felt like it was beating again. 

From the moment you opened your eyes though, JJ could tell you were ready to get the hell up and out of there. It was like a switch flipped. One minute you were clinging to life and barely breathing, the next you were arguing to get up and get moving. 

It took way longer than you would’ve liked to remain in the hospital once you woke up. Your body needed to regain strength, your wound was still healing, and your vitals needed to be monitored. That didn’t help your overwhelming desire to go home. Then everything could finally go back to normal or at least it would feel a little more familiar, but even then you knew that “normal” would take some time. For the days you were awake and stuck in your hospital bed, you could tell JJ was struggling to hide the guilt behind her eyes. It was glaringly obvious to you that she blamed herself for everything that happened. When you caught her staring with that painful expression she seemed to perpetually wear these days she would immediately look away from you. You didn’t know what broke your heart more, the way she avoided you or the way you knew she was drowning in her inner turmoil. 

The only time she really talked to you during your stay at the hospital was to tell you to stop being so stubborn. It was getting tiresome to hear the same lecture over and over again about the healing process. Your body went through a trauma. It was a close call. It takes time to come back from these things. You heard all of that way too much now. 

Luckily for you, whether it was the doctors finally giving in or your amazing determination to heal yourself with sheer willpower, you were promised to go home early. While you might have been over the moon to be able to be in your own bed, surrounded by your own things, and not staring at the bland white walls of the hospital room anymore, JJ was feeling the opposite. 

The minute the doctor gave you the okay to prepare to go back home, all the color drained from JJ’s face. She didn’t even bother hiding her reaction. Her feet planted in that defensive stance she got whenever she was preparing for a verbal fight, her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw clenched as she listened to you eagerly thank your doctor for the permission to finally leave. You thought an argument was beginning to brew between the two of you, but instead she snapped at the doctor, questioning everything that was just said. In the end, unfortunately for her, it was your decision and despite her wishes, you were going back home. 

The transition from the hospital to your apartment building was tenser than you anticipated. JJ treated you with care and hesitation, insisting on being the one to wheel you out of the hospital even when you promised you could walk (albeit very slowly) on your own. When you reached the car she helped you in and buckled you up with the utmost care, but you didn’t miss the way her hands trembled as they fumbled to secure you in. The rest of the car ride consisted of the continuous habit your wife has now picked up of refusing to even glance at you when you talked. Instead, she listed off all the things she didn’t want you to do until you were fully recovered and all the things she would be doing to ensure you were safe and comfortable when you got home. 

It killed you to see her like this. In a way, you did feel guilty for this. That you didn’t listen to her and stayed behind when you knew you could be in danger. However, you didn’t completely regret that decision. Deep down, you thought that if you weren’t there it would’ve been her who got hurt and if you were miles and miles away, who would’ve been there to come to her rescue? The thought of you two switching places made your stomach twist. This outcome wasn’t ideal, but you’d heal eventually and be good as new. You’d take this outcome over any chance of losing your wife for good any day. What mattered was that you would be okay. You understood it was iffy for a while but now you’re on the path to recover and you will heal in time. But what you also understood is that you weren’t the only one who needed time to heal now. 

Watching JJ as she drove with clenched fists on the steering wheel and body tense with stress, you knew she needed to heal just as much as you. The problem was, you weren’t sure how to best help support her, when she didn’t even look you in the eye anymore. 

When she helped you into the apartment, you already felt overwhelmed by her. Not once in your relationship did you ever feel like you needed JJ to take a step back, but the way she hovered over you every single second since you walked through the door and sat down on your bed was driving you crazy. What’s worse was, even though she seemed like she was everywhere all at once, she also seemed so distant from you. Like a shell of a person. And she still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

It wasn’t hard to miss the growing guilt that showed on her face as she watched you walk a little slower than normal through your apartment halls. And when the two of you passed the fateful spot where it all went down, regardless of how spotless it now was, you both still flinched when your eyes fell on it. Then there was a brief pause as both of you turned your gaze away, the pain of the memory washing over you, before you both moved on to your bedroom. 

When JJ had finished putting your things away you had expected her to at least spend a few moments to appreciate that you actually made it home and you’re both safe. However, she just continued to be equally too protective and too absent all at once. A skill, you thought, only Jennifer Jareau could master. 

You patted the bed next to where you sat propped up once you saw that JJ had finally run out of things to unpack. She didn’t make a sound as she stood before you, just staring at the empty spot next to you. Then, after a moment, she blinked and began to turn and busy herself with god knows what else. That was the boiling point. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice was soft, yet sounded way too loud in the uncomfortable silence of the room. 

“What are you talking about?” JJ let out a humorless laugh and turned to leave. You caught her wrist before she could step too far away from the bed. 

“Please, Jennifer.” You rarely called her by her full name but in that moment she knew it was serious, you were serious, and suddenly the defenses she’d been holding up for days started to lower. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her arms going limp at her sides, with your hand still wrapped around her wrist. “I’m not used to you being home.” 

That might have been half true but even she knew you could see through that. 

You gave her an exhausted look, not offering a word, your hand still holding onto her, as you waited for a better answer.

“It’s just been hard,” JJ finally spoke again, her voice even quieter. 

“What has?”

“Seeing you like this.” Her eyes dropped to the floor and her head hung low. You knew she was trying, yet again, to build up more walls. 

“JJ, it’s not your fault.” 

She didn’t move a muscle. You knew she refused to let those words sink in, but you just had to get them through. 

“It’s not…” your hand slid down her wrist to take hers in your own, “…your fault.” 

She still didn’t say a word, but you felt her fist clench in the palm of your hand and you knew she was fighting off whatever her inner demons were telling her right now. 

“If anything it’s mine. I mean, I-“

“Don’t.” Her voice echoed through the room as she interrupted you. You didn’t let go of her hand but you were taken aback at her reaction all the same. “Don’t blame yourself.” You could tell her body was trembling now as she stood before you. All you wanted was to pull her into your arms and take away this pain she was putting herself through. 

Tugging on her arm, you tried to get her to budge even a little. “JJ…” you breathed, trying to calm down the storm you could tell was brewing. “You’re not to blame either, though.” 

“Yes I am!” JJ yanked her hand out of yours suddenly and your eyes widened at her outburst. “I couldn’t keep you safe here. I can’t keep you safe but you insisted on coming back here.” 

“We had to go home eventually…”

 JJ paused, her shoulders heaving up and down as anger seethed through her. You knew this anger wasn’t towards you, but herself. While many would be terrified of an angry Jennifer Jareau, your heart just broke for her. 

She started to turn from you, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm herself but you didn’t want her to walk out that door. You had no plan to stop her though and in your current state you couldn’t just fling yourself forward.

“I need a minute,” JJ muttered before reaching the door to your shared bedroom. You watched in defeat as she walked out the door, walls back up to shut you out, and you knew this conversation wasn’t over. What you feared, though, was that it was going to be a long and painful process to finally get through to your wife. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few more weeks went by and you were getting better with each passing day. Of course, you still had to take it easy. Your external stitches were out but you were still in the middle of the healing process. The good news was that your mobility was a lot better. You were up and moving around the house with every chance you got, which unfortunately usually meant any moment JJ wasn’t home. It was hard to take the glare of disapproval she’d shoot your way when she saw you doing anything other than sitting and resting. Honestly, you were getting tired of it.

It seemed like the more you healed and were getting some of your independence back from that, the more her mood worsened. You knew, deep down, that it was just her fear and guilt that was affecting her mood. After that conversation you had when you both got home you kept trying, but JJ would just storm off. Unwilling to hear any sort of reason or let you alleviate any of her blame. It constantly pulled at your heart to see her so guarded with you of all people. 

What was even worse was she stopped touching you and you craved her so badly. And not in a sexual way even, you just wanted her to hold your hand, kiss your cheek, or just anything really. She only touched you when she helped you out of bed the first week you were home or when she helped you bathe, but you were long past needing help with either of those things. Plus, you didn’t much care for her helping you with things like that. Wife or not, you really didn’t love help with showering when you insisted you could shower alone. Now, though, you honestly missed the help, especially when it was the only time you felt her gentle touch on you. 

Things were reaching their breaking point with you quickly. There was only so much more of the distanced looks and avoidance you could take from JJ before you were going to snap. She barely left home too, which somehow made it even worse. At least if she was going to work or leaving the house for more than just groceries and the occasional take out, you could say she was just busy or tired. But no, she was home most of the time, so that just left you with a shell of your wife walking around the house, holding you at arms length, obviously traumatized by the events you both experienced, and yet refusing any help or to even hear you out. It was hurting your heart, but worse it was hurting your relationship. 

It couldn’t go on like this, not for much longer. You had to get your wife to look at you, really look at you, and then talk. And fuck if you didn’t hope it would at least end in her kissing you again. If not, you didn’t know how much more of this situation you could take. What killed you even more, was the nightmares you had and the overwhelming desire for JJ to throw her arms around you at night and kiss your tears away. But you also knew, if she knew of any of your lingering fears it would just make it worse for her guilt. So when you did wake from them, from the nightmare of that fateful night repeating itself, you just wrapped your arms tight to your chest and let silent tears fall as you tried to fall back asleep. All the while, being extremely careful not to wake your sleeping wife. What you didn’t know yet was that you weren’t the only one with nightmares.

But that realization came one night when you, yourself woke from the terrible recurring dream. Your chest was heaving, your body was in a cold sweat, and your heart was racing, but you had a method to calm this storm. Taking deep breaths and counting down from one hundred always helped. It must’ve affected you more tonight though, you could feel the mattress shake with your body. After a few more minutes of deep breathing, however, you realized you weren’t the one shaking. Pressed with her back to yours, you could just barely feel the tremble of her shoulders as she lay next to you. She was silent, except for a few shaky sighs that came from her side of the bed, but you knew the signs and you knew JJ. She was crying. Something she actively tried to hide from you since the whole ordeal. 

You laid there totally frozen for a minute. This was a moment that JJ obviously didn’t want you to be aware of, but this was also a moment where her walls were possibly down. She was also your wife and you ached to comfort her. So, there were options: Either you ask her about it in the morning and risk her walls coming back up before then or you listen to your heart and comfort her now like you so desperately wanted to. Of course, you picked the second option.

“Hey…” you whispered into the dark room as you rolled over to your other side so that you could face JJ’s back. For a moment, you thought maybe she didn’t hear you, so with caution you slowly raised a hand to run your fingers gently down her back. “JJ…” you tried again. “What’s wrong?” But with the mixture of your touch and your voice a little louder, suddenly you felt her whole body freeze underneath your fingertips. It was like she was holding her breath and her shoulders had stopped trembling, but you still knew she was awake. 

“JJ, talk to me.” You were more firm this time, your palm pressing to her shoulder, barely tugging but still motioning for her to turn her over. She refused.

“I’m okay, (Y/N). Go back to sleep.” Her voice was low. It sounded tired, sure, but almost as if she was trying to pass it off like you woke her up. You weren’t buying any of it.

“JJ,” you sighed in disappointment. “Turn over.” At your request, you felt JJ’s entire body tense next to you, but you weren’t going to give in. “Please, Jennifer.”

After a moment, JJ let out a long sigh and then finally did what you asked. You made no move to scoot back, wanting to be close to your wife and to try to make out her facial expressions in the moonlight that peered through your bedroom window. When she was finally facing you, that’s when you realized just how close you two were laying. You could feel her steady breathing as she lay next to you and you tried to remember the last time you two were this close. Your hand immediately reached out to her cheek to wipe her tears. It was half a gesture to confirm what you already knew, that she had indeed been crying, and half to comfort her. Either way, it was a bold move on your part, considering the way JJ has been avoiding you like the plague for so long. Yet, she let you do it. She didn’t pull away, didn’t dodge your touch, she let you continue to brush your thumb over her cheek and catch the tears that you could feel were still falling. 

“What’s wrong?” You whispered again. JJ’s hand moved up to yours and for a moment you feared she was going to push you away, but she surprised you when she pressed her palm to the back of your hand and held it there. 

After a moment of silence and stillness she finally spoke. “I thought I lost you,” her voice sounded hesitant yet raw as she finally started to let you in. “In the dream and when you… when that-”

“I know,” You interrupted. It only made sense to you that she was having the same recurring dream as you, but you also knew those dreams were bringing up fears of the very real events that happened. You moved closer to her. Close enough to press your forehead to hers and you stayed like that for a moment. You tried to take in every single second, because you feared it would be awhile before you could feel her this close again. Even if your wife was feeling scared and you had both woken from a terrible dream, you didn’t much care what brought you this opportunity, you were just glad you were getting it. “But I’m still here.” 

You felt her head nod and the hand still pressed to yours, in a surprising move, slipped down to press against your chest. She was feeling your heartbeat, you realized immediately, trying to find comfort and confirmation in it that what you said was true. That you were still here to live another day, that she hadn’t lost the love of her life because her biggest fears came true and her job jeopardized the safety of her wife. 

“JJ I-” your voice broke before you could catch it. It was obvious this moment was overwhelming you, but you couldn’t hold back anymore. “I miss you so much.” 

With those words, JJ’s heart broke as she took in just how much you were hurting. You didn’t have to say a lot for her to read you. She knew you and deep down she knew she was hurting you. It killed her, but she was so wrapped up in her own head that she couldn’t stop herself. Convinced she was going to put you in any more danger or that you would disappear in the blink of an eye if she so much as lingered on you for one moment. But then she heard the anguish in your voice and she didn’t need to see your eyes to know the pain she’d see in them. She felt the slight tremble of your fingers as they remained against her cheek. Another tear fell for you as she fully came to understand the damage she had caused in the past few weeks with her behavior.

Without a word, she shifted so that she could reach your forehead and pressed a kiss to it. The first time you felt her lips upon her skin in so long and in that moment it absolutely broke you. Your hand slipped from her cheek and before you could really stop yourself you were grabbing onto her shirt with both your hands and pulling yourself closer to her body, tears falling freely as you laid there holding onto JJ for dear life. 

“I’m so sorry,” JJ poured every ounce of emotion she had into those words, trying her best to convey to you that, yes, finally she did realize what she was doing. She realized in that moment all of a sudden that she needed to change, that she needed to be there for you. Through distance, she convinced herself she could keep you safer, that she wouldn’t break you, but she didn’t take into consideration what it was doing to you emotionally or even what it was doing to her. She missed you as much as you missed her, she craved you, craved to hold you. She knew every time you woke up from a nightmare, yet didn’t move a muscle and wouldn’t tell a soul that she was awake, waiting for you to fall back asleep too. She convinced herself she didn’t deserve your love, your touch, your comfort, not when she was the reason it was almost gone for good. She was punishing herself, but now she realized she was punishing you too and you didn’t deserve that, neither of you did. “Shh, please, stop crying,” She cooed, her arms coming around to pull you into her body. 

Finally. Finally, you were in her arms. You knew you missed this feeling, but you didn’t realize how much until your senses were surrounded by her. You missed the feeling of her heartbeat, you missed the smell of her shampoo, you missed the gentle brush of her fingers through your hair when she would try to calm you down. And she was giving you all of the things you missed, but in the moment it felt like it could never be enough. Still you were so scared she’d go back to being cold as ice in the morning. So you kept trying to take in this moment. 

Trying to calm your tears, your hands released their grip from her shirt only to cup her face and pull her down so your lips could meet hers. Your kiss wasn’t gentle, like you thought the first kiss would be once you both had healed. No, this was a tearfilled attempt to have more closeness with your wife. Your lips pressed to hers hard, and she was taken by surprise at your bold move, yet she didn’t pull away. Not right away at least.

You kept kissing her for a moment, your grip on the sides of her face a little too hard, yet it didn’t seem like either of you cared. In the back of JJ’s mind, she knew it would be best to stop this soon, but she also missed the feeling of you and the taste of your lips, so she indulged for just a moment. 

When she felt your tongue start to run along her lips is when she finally pulled away. “Woah,” her voice was a whispered warning to slow down. You were still healing, fragile, you didn’t need to be this worked up right now. She needed to calm you down, to get you to rest again so you could properly heal. You didn’t want to rest though, fears of the morning after keeping you from calming down. “(Y/N)... you should try to sleep.” 

“I don’t want to.” It sounded more like you pleading than a statement. “I don’t want things to go back to how they were in the morning. I can’t handle it anymore JJ, I just can’t. It’s too much. It’s-”

“They won’t.” JJ cut off your desperate rambling. The arms that were around you gently squeezed you as she held you. “I know I’ve been hurting you, I won’t anymore.”

Your body relaxed a little at her words, but still you kept both your hands on her face. Terrified to let go of her for even a second, worried she would leave your bed and never come back. She leaned back in for a gentle kiss, this time it was her guiding it. You felt yourself melt into her even more and with each press of her lips to yours it was like all your pain the past few weeks was washing away. How you missed your wife’s touch so much. With a simple kiss it felt like your heart was finally mending. You believed her words, you knew she was still healing from this trauma just as much as you were and it wouldn’t just go back to normal after one night, but finally you knew there would be a change. Finally, you knew the old JJ was coming back to you. Still, you didn’t want to sleep. Still you wanted more of your wife. Blame it on the long wait, blame it on greed, or the desperate need to be reassured that she still loved and wanted you after weeks of the cold shoulder. Who knows, but once you felt her lips on you again you couldn’t stop yourself from needing more. 

“I don’t want to sleep yet…” you mumbled against her lips, your hands slipping from her face to run down her chest and stomach. You, yet again, tried to deepen the kiss, your tongue peaking out to trace her bottom lip. This time, JJ didn’t pull away as quickly as before, her lips parting so you could hesitantly brush your tongue against hers. But when JJ started to feel your hands dip under her shirt and press to her bare stomach, that’s when she pulled away again.

“(Y/N)...” She warned, her lips still so close they were brushing against yours as she spoke. “We can’t do this tonight. I could hurt you.”

“You won’t,”  you mumbled as your lips fell to her jaw, kissing along it as slowly as possible. JJ’s arms moved from around your body to still the hands that were slowly creeping up her shirt. Her grip was loose though, hesitant even. You could tell her resolve was weak. Truthfully, she didn’t want to stop you either. The moment she kissed you it felt like a fire reawakened in her and she didn’t want the feeling to go away. She wanted to feel you close. Feel your skin on her skin. For some reason, she felt like it was the only way to ensure that this all wasn’t a dream. But she also knew you were still healing, still fragile and breakable, and if she did anything to hurt you again she didn’t think she could live through that.

But then your lips were trailing down to her neck and she could tell that this meant more to you than she could ever possibly realize. She could tell that you needed to feel wanted, comforted, and close to her. To deny you felt impossible. “I need you,” you whispered against her skin and that’s when every ounce of willpower went out the window. “Just be gentle.” 

JJ’s hands finally slipped from your wrists. With the utmost care, she pushed you to lie on your back. “If anything hurts,” JJ began as her hands began to pull at the elastic of your pajama pants. “You need to tell me immediately.” You just nodded in response, your hands moving to brush hair from her face as she looked down at you in the moonlight.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her heart was racing and so was yours. It felt almost as if it was the first time between you two all over again. Every time JJ touched you she did it with so much control and gentleness. Her hands caressed every inch of your body and it almost felt as if she was trying to pour every ounce of love she withheld from you the past few weeks into this one moment. 

With her lips traveling all over your body and your hands roaming hers with every chance you got, it didn’t take long for you to become a dripping wet mess for her. When she finally sunk her hand down between your legs to where you wanted her most you both groaned at the contact. It had been too long and never had you wanted to feel her like this as badly as you did in this very moment. 

When two fingers slid into you, she did it at an infuriatingly slow pace. It was partially driving you crazy, how slow and gentle she was being, but you also knew that this is how JJ needed to feel you, how she needed to love you. So, you tried to be patient, tried to take her in slowly, even if your body felt as if it was on fire the moment her hands began to roam. 

She made love to you gently. Perhaps more gentle than she had ever been. Not that JJ was always one to be rough, but before the incident she had a hunger for you that was very clear in the way she touched you. She took what she wanted from you and you tried to keep up. Now, however, she was careful. In every moment, every stroke of her finger, she took her time, but she was also taking you in. Every sigh you made when her fingers pressed down in a spot you particularly liked, every twitch of your hips as her fingers slid out only to push back in, every quiet moan you let out when you felt her thumb brush against your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

JJ didn’t want to hurt you, and that’s partially why she was going so slow, but another part of it was that she didn’t want this moment to end. In the morning, she meant it, things wouldn’t go back to how they were, but she knew that in the morning there would be more talk, more tears, more pain to work through. So for now, she just wanted to be with you. To be with her wife who she almost lost, who she almost pushed away, who she absolutely couldn’t live without. 

With your shirt pushed up your chest and her lips latched onto your nipple, she relished in the taste of your skin and the feeling of you almost completely bare beneath her. It only took a few more strokes of her fingers inside of you before you were falling apart, and the way your body moved as she drove you closer to an orgasm had her mesmerized. Everything felt so much more intense after everything that had transpired. She didn’t realize just how much she needed this too, until she felt you tighten around her fingers as you came to your release.

When you finally came down from your orgasm all JJ wanted to do was keep going. She wanted to touch you more, wanted you to touch her and you wanted the same. But she still worried for your health and didn’t want to push it. The way your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath gave her the indication that perhaps even this was a little too much for one night. But she pushed that fear down for now, deciding instead to hold you and make sure you fall back asleep.

JJ rolled to your side again, pulling you with her this time into a close embrace. You began to protest, not wanting to stop, wanting to return the favor, but JJ was quick to shush you. She explained that there would always be tomorrow night if you felt rested and well enough after what you both had just done tonight. With the mention of there being a tomorrow like that, it was all you needed to hear to give in. In all honesty, you were tired too. Still not having the same stamina as you once did. You knew it would come back, that you would heal, that your relationship would too. All in good time.

JJ stroked your hair as she held you, feeling your breathing calm as you fell asleep. Her eyes closed slowly as she pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. In the darkness of the room, before drifting to sleep too she whispered, “I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

A/N: Well, there you have it! The end of the series. Hope you enjoyed <3 

taglist: @desperate-gay @melatonindaydreamz @high--power @mmmmokdok @comebackbehere23 @pintsizedshawty @daddy-jareau​ @mychemicalimagines​ @7thavenger​ @throwawayfanfics @leecravesdeath​ @olliethedonut​ @zoomdeathknight​ @storiesofsvu​

[the-bar-sinister]

Deicide (5677 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth

catch up here Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Wano Arc (One Piece) Spoilers, Possession, straw hat pirates polycule, Action/Adventure, Power of Friendship, Established Relationship, Kaidou Lives, basil hawkins lives, caesar clown joins the straw hats, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change

Summary: Realizing something is very, very wrong after the fight with Kaidou, Luffy seeks out Robin for comfort and advice. What he tells her is unsettling.

Luffy is hearing the voice of a god, and he wants it out of his head.

-

King had only been half conscious when Zoro had grabbed him by the throat, eyes blazing.

"The captain says you need to leave. Take Kaidou and your men and go, and never come back to this country."

It was a demand from the victor, an edict from the strong to the beaten. His memory was muddled, most of the way their battle ended told through the lingering pain in slowly mending wounds rather than firm memory.

He’d laughed, breath rasping from his bloodied lips as the swordsman’s fingers tightened around his throat. It was the law of the jungle– he’d said as much when the swordsman finally dropped him. They were beaten, and they would listen.

Wano’s future was in the hands of the victors. As he watched the man’s retreating back, he’d thanked him for the honorable fight and wished him luck on his path following the man he wished to be King of the Pirates.

He’d done as he was commanded. He gathered up the beaten remnants of their crew and the bodies of those Wano wouldn’t respect in their deaths. He’d carried the man who saved him all those years ago in his arms to the ship himself. His captain. His inspiration, the man who gave him purpose.

As the ship of corpses and broken beasts sailed into the rising sun, he kept his eye on Kaidou’s sleeping form.

It still felt like a terrible dream that they’d lost. Something unreal in the haze of pain-clouded memory– like his life before the labs and Government scientists. 

Dawn was blooming on the horizon behind them as they sailed away from Wano, but it was not their dawn. It was the dawn for those who had beaten them.

Kaidou lay there on the hastily prepared cot, his slumbering human form so much smaller than his half-dragon form he'd spent so much time in. Despite his nearly 14 feet of height, he looked fragile this way. Vulnerable.

King never left his side, watching him sleep with a protective ruffle of his feathers and a blaze of the flames over his back. As the Beast Pirates ensured the ship sailed on, as Ulti and Page One organized the last of their forces and took stock of the damages, he ensured his captain lived to see the dawn of their own.

His fingers lingered over the 20 year old scar on his body as he leaned down to touch him. They’d never return to Wano— no matter how much it’d been Kaidou’s homeland. It seemed the two of them now had yet another thing in common. 

-

Basil woke up to the comforting and familiar smell of incense. He hadn't been expecting to wake up to anything at all.

The cards had spoken before that fateful night. A looming percentage of death that hung over his head as the Beast Pirates drank and celebrated the victory that wouldn’t ever come. 99% chance of death– and a 1% chance of survival. It was a fool’s odds in a game he had no choice but to play.

The last thing he remembered was the shock of pain as his arm severed from his shoulder, and the pain of hitting the burning ground before darkness blissfully took him.

“A 1% chance…” he murmured as he took a deep breath of incense. “How absolutely amazing.” 

"Finally awake, huh?" A looming shadow filled in the doorway of the small, quiet room that Basil found himself in.

The voice was familiar. Captain Eustass Kid.

“Miraculously, it would seem I am indeed.” Basil tried to push himself up with an arm he realized simply was not there. Just the tingling presence of nothing in the place of flesh, nerves and bones.

Instead he laid there, looking towards the shape in the doorway with bleary eyes. “Fate was certainly in your favor, wasn’t it, Captain Kid.” 

"Not a big believer in fate, admittedly." The rival captain strode from the doorway closer to the bed where Basil was laying, and he sat down beside it with his legs crossed. "Numbers weren't in our favor, that's for sure."

“And yet.” Basil closed his eyes with a tired smile. “You pulled it off quite admirably. Snatching victory from the jaws of causality. I’d applaud you, but I’m afraid I’ve been rather disarmed!”

The sound he made wasn’t even close to a laugh. It was choked. 

Kid's glance flicked to the bandaged stump of an arm. He touched his own. "I know the feeling."

“Heh.” Basil shifted painfully with his other elbow, enough to sit up and look at him through the pale fringes of his hair. “I can imagine you do…my folly in thinking you were simply wearing makeshift armor.”

His expression sobered when he briefly met Kid’s eyes.

“I don’t know how, or why I am here.” 

"You're here because Killer brought you to me after you passed out," Eustass said. "Through the fire of the waning battle, the wound he carved tied with his own shirt."

“Oh…” Basil murmured quietly. The one percent chance of his life carrying on through another day turned out to be due to the very man who nearly ended it.

“I’ll have to thank him some time soon,” he smiled stiffly. “...the Beast Pirates would have left a defeated foe to drown in the pool of their own blood.”

Eustass nodded. "Killer's a man. Not a beast. How about you?"

“A man or a beast?” Basil chuckled raspily. “I’m a curse doll.”

Straw snaked its way over his bandaged stump, causing him to hiss softly as it began winding around itself 

“...I was never cut out to be a beast, admittedly.” He closed his eyes “Kaidou offered me but one choice after he killed my crew. An attempt to make a man into a beast– though I’d say he’s certainly failed.”

"You were coerced, then." Kid's tone was even. "A choice against your life's not really a choice."

Basil nodded slowly as the straw wound its way down into the approximation of an arm and fingers tipped in sharpened metal nails.

“It was join him as one of his agents, or die. Apoo led us into quite the trap, Eustass.” 

"I'm hoping to still find a way to make him pay for it. There's plenty he owes me." He grimaced, showing teeth, and Basil could tell he was angry. That anger, thankfully, seemed not to be directed at him. "How about you?"

“I’d like to tear him apart, if I’m to speak plainly.” Basil pushed himself up with his straw hand, the nails scraping softly against the sheets, “for treating our alliance so frivolously, and for rigging the game so there was nothing to it but to lose.” 

"We're of one mind on that, then." Kid nodded. "Interested in pursuing a mutual goal?"

Basil lifted his straw hand, holding it out towards Kid with a grim smile set under his dark and serious eyes.

“I’m willing…eager… to see where the strands of chaos lead us, Captain Kid…so long as you’ll accept giving me that second chance.” 

Kid held out his iron scrap arm in return. "You're down a crew, Hawkins. Will you sail under my flag?"

Basil’s ship was sunk to the bottom of the ocean, his crew buried in Wano soil. He grabbed Kid’s makeshift hand with the makeshift hand of his own, and the phantom sensation of fingers clenching shot through the bandaged stump below’s raw nerves.

“It’s as good a flag as I’ve seen. If it means we’ll strike out against Apoo…and if it means we’ll see the One Piece with our own eyes– I”ll sail under it gladly.”

He smiled thinly, a determined look in his often somber eyes “Captain.” 

Metal fingers squeezed straw.

"Welcome aboard."

-

Law had heard that Luffy passed out basically right after he had bested Kaidou– leaving the rest of them to clean up the mess and the chaos for three days by that point.

Onigashima was in the literal damned ocean, and salvage operations were underway to grab important scrolls and tools before they were forever lost. Kaidou was running off with his tail between his legs. The Red Scabbards were left alternatively purposeless and bound to their new lord–and Law had spent the last three days running from bedside patient to bedside patient.

The countless wounded on both sides demanded his and Chopper’s attention as doctors while Luffy snoozed away. 

Doctor privilege meant he was informed right away when Luffy did wake up– but he also knew that he'd be scarfing down food and surrounded by the Straw Hats for who knew how long.

With that massive crew of his, which somehow kept getting bigger every time he fucking blinked, he was sure he wouldn’t get a word in edge wise with him until they’d gotten their fill of doting on their charming captain.

So Law contented himself with waiting, spending a little time wandering the streets of Wano.

As he passed by a dango cart, a familiar croaking and faux-seductive voice rang in his ears.

"Well look who it is! And here I didn't think you were ever going to take a break." 

Caesar Clown turned to face him, coat billowing, little smoked glasses perched in his nose. Despite his words, Caesar, who was for some godforsaken reason still traveling with the Straw Hats had been seeing to patients right alongside Law for most of the past three days– albeit bitching loudly about it the entire time.

“Morning, Clownass.” Law raised his hand in greeting. “I take breaks, you know. Just not as often as some people I could mention.”

It was a lie. He hardly ever took breaks. 

"As often meaning 'ever'," Caesar sneered, snapping down a dumpling from the stick he was eating from. "What's the occasion?"

Law strolled over with his hands folded under his long and billowing sleeves as the ghost of a grin crossed his face. “Buy me some of those dango and maybe I’ll tell you, Caesar. Maybe.” 

"I didn't realize you were looking for a sugar daddy," Caesar drawled back with an over-broad grin. Before Law could protest, money had already changed hands, and he was brandishing a skewer of the treats at him.

Law turned a deep red as he snatched the dango from his hand with a sharp hiss. 

“Oh you think you’re a real comedian, dontcha, Clown?” He sniffed and bit one of the dango off the skewer with a huff “Luffy’s awake. I thought you’d know since apparently he’s your captain now.” 

"Apparently!" Caesar laughed. He pushed his glasses up. "So he's awake, huh? And here I thought he'd make it a full week in that little coma of his. I'm very impressed by his propensity for sloth you know."

“He’s a man who enjoys his sins, I’ve noticed.” Law snorted a fond laugh. “And after a fight like that? I thought he’d be down for a week too. But no. He turns into something…strange…passes out, and gets up three days later eating Wano out of house and home.” 

Caesar blotted his overly voluptuous mouth with a handkerchief and nodded, looking thoughtful, and possibly amused. "Well I imagine he'd eat Wano out of house and home no matter what– but that was certainly a strange phenomenon, wouldn't you say?"

“Like nothin’ I’ve ever seen before.” Law finished off his dango and tossed the stick up and down with a furrow of his brow “I’ve never seen a Paramythia fruit manifest quite like that before. Obviously awakening a power does a lot but that was…I dunno. Odd.”

Law glanced at Caesar Clown with a dubious stare. Somehow he still couldn’t believe that not only did Luffy take one look at this guy post kidnapping attempt and decide to drag him around…but he couldn’t believe Caesar Clown…one of MADS old researchers, and Doflamingo’s former business partner would content himself with traveling around with the lot of them.

It was fucking weird. 

Weirder still perhaps was Caesar's seemingly absolute commitment to acting like absolutely nothing hostile or even strained had even happened between them– either the Straw Hats or Law. If it came up, he laughed it off like it was a petty argument over drinks, and kept on with whatever conversational tangent took his fancy.

"Yes, exactly. Awakening a paramythia should only act on the space outside the body." Caesar chewed on one of his long, black-laquered nails. "The only time you see that type of personal transformation is with a zoan type."

“Stop that, you know where they’ve been.” Law snorted as he twisted his hand to the side…and a fresh dango stick appeared in the place of his empty skewer, which he handed to Caesar after tossing a handful of coins on the startled vendor’s cart.

“But yeah. Only Zoan awakenings completely change the body like that. Don’t get me wrong, Luffy’s been doing fucked up shit to his body this whole time– increasing his blood pressure, that one where he enhances his limbs and coats them with haki– but this was a full on transformation.” 

Caesar made a face, lips twisting as Law called out his dirty habit, and he buffed his nails on his coat, taking the dango in the other hand.

"Yes, it was more than just a physical trick. That blood pressure thing is probably going to kill him one day, you know, I've warned him," he shook off the distracted tangent and nibbled on his fresh dango before returning to the question at hand. "I wish I had a sample from last night. You didn't find any shed hair or anything? No, it'd all be at the bottom of the sea now, wouldn't it…"

“Trust me, I have too.” Law smirked before it dropped away. He paced with his hand on his chin. “any evidence of whatever the hell that was went away with Onigashima, Clown. And frankly, it might have dissipated when his body returned to normal. Turned back into his regular hair.” 

Caesar stood up from his seat at the cart and followed Law's pacing, his lips twisted in a displeased grimace. "Possibly, possibly. But we can't know for sure, can we."

“Not unless he does it again. Or he’s got some hair on his shirt.” He put his fingers to his chin “...but I’m gonna be honest with you, Clown.” 

"Fascinating new strategy from you, Trafalgar, color me intrigued."

Law briefly thought about chopping Caesar’s head off and carrying it around to listen to him flap his gums. The joys of the Op-Op fruit made non-fatal acts of vengeance a snap.

“Ha ha. But something seemed wrong with Luffy. You’ve known him a bit now, haven’t you? Didn’t he seem a little…”

Unhinged. Overzealous? Not his usual kind of intense. 

"A little completely out of his mind?" Caesar finished. "Yes, absolutely. And not the way our deeeear caaaaptain is usually out of his mind. There's something fishy going on."

Law snorted into his hand, before his expression sobered. “Absolutely out of his mind. That ain’t the man I’ve gotten to know. It wasn’t. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was one of those situations where a zoan devil fruit overwrites who you are…but the Gum-Gum fruit’s paramythia. It’s well documented, ain’t it?” 

Caesar rubbed his chin. "Well enough documented. Of course that's even supposing it was the Gum-Gum fruit that the little freak shoved down his gullet, isn't it?"

“...” Law’s lips tightened. “..it turns him to rubber, don’t it? I mean that’s pretty obvious,right? What else could it be?” 

Caesar threw up his hands dramatically. "I don't know– do you know? There are plenty of things that could imitate rubber, and both of us know that every fruit out there has not been documented. For all we know he could have eaten a zoan fruit with the properties of some horrific undiscovered stretching dog."

“Disgusting thought, Caesar. I’m deducting fifteen points from your likability score for that.” Law drawled. “..you got a point though.” 

"You're damned right I do." He pointed the tip of the empty dango skewer at law. "If anyone knows how unpredictable and bizarre devil fruits can be, it's me!"

“The Gas Man?” Law drawled. 

He nodded in agreement. "The gas ma– No!! The greatest scientist in the world! Do you know how much research I've done on Devil Fruits!"

Caesar stamped his foot on the ground in protest.

“Tragically, I know it well.” Law smirked as his arms crossed over his chest again, “I blew up your lab. I saw just how much Devil Fruit research was goin’ on in there for ‘Dofy’.” 

"Exactly!" The skewer was pointed in his face for a moment again before Caesar cast it aside into the litter along the side of the street and rubbed his hands together. "I can figure this out. What I need are blood samples. You said he's awake?"

Law grabbed ‘the gas man’ by the shoulders. 

“I sure as hell ain’t gonna let YOU be the only one taking blood from him! If you’re getting any samples at all I’m gonna be there right beside you.” He pointed one finger at him. “to make sure you don't go about any funny business on the poor bastard.” 

Caesar grinned widely and put his palms on Law's chest. "Why Trafalgar! It's almost like you care! Marvelous! He'll be much easier to get blood from with someone holding his hand. Come along then."

Clown grabbed him by the wrist abruptly and moved to tug him along back down the street.

Law stumbled, his feet scuffing the ground as he stumbled into step. 

“Not like that you damn freak!” he sputtered. “You’re makin’ it sound worse than it is!” 

"I know, caring! Ick!" Caesar laughed uproariously. "I'm sure it's nothing that serious."

Law stared at the back of the deadly master of war crimes’ head as the two ran through the streets of Wano with an incredulous expression etched across his face.

Somehow all of a sudden he understood. He understood exactly how Caesar Clown had gotten himself adopted by the Straw Hats.

He was just as much of a chaotic freak as any of them had ever been. 

[neofeliis]

Tracing the Scars

Tiefling!Tav/Astarion

Note: a Rewrite of the scar reveal scene, in which I wish we were just able to touch him. Like everyone else I was listening to a lot of Sleep Token when I wrote this. Takes place after allowing him to feed, but before trying to seduce Tav.

----

"What are you doing?"

Her voice, sudden but soft, made the typically composed man jump. Astarion whirled on her, face bewildered and ready to defend himself. As those red eyes landed on the shorter tiefling, her gaze nothing but gently inquisitive, his expression shifted faster than he would have liked. But despite himself she was the least offensive person to have caught him feeling blindly at his back.

In as fast a recovery as he could muster, he slapped on that face of haughty annoyance and responded sharply, "Trying to decipher these blasted scars. I can make out partial lettering, but nothing else." He turned from her again, torn from being able to see that terrifyingly calm face and showing her his old wounds.  

Astarion had expected her to look disgusted, thrown off, or even to have some form of pity. But none of that was on her face, only curious concern. 

Seeing that on her was so very, very frightening. It was a taste of fear that he had not known, or perhaps remembered. Still, she seemed like she was waiting, allowing him to speak first.

"Centuries these have been here and I can't even use a BLASTED mirror!" he shouted, tossing the tunic he had balled in his other hand onto the ground. No, he would not be afraid.  He was angry .  Anger was familiar, anger was self-preserving, and Astarion had anger in excess. An endless well to pull upon when no other emotion made sense.

Tav did not flinch, only tilting her head slightly at him.  She wanted to know more, wanted him to open more to her, but she had to also weigh the possibility he might recoil from that.  A wounded beast, where every hand extended was a threat. He may have thought he hid that hurt well, but his mask was one she knew well.  "Where are they from?" She asked instead, her tone tentative. A hundred other questions lingered on her restrained tongue.

Astarion sneered, looking to the ground. "Cazador. Lovingly, painstakingly carved for a whole night. Quite the artist, didn't stop until it was just right. " He paused, his body tensing as a new memory assaulted him, "He would start over if I made too much noise."  The strength in his eyes guttered, something she had been catching more in recent days.  The man worked hard, very hard to keep those moments covered.  Whether she could see him better, or he was losing hold on his walls, she couldn’t be sure. But in the firelight, she could see how tight his muscles were coiled. Like preparing for a fight but with no idea when it would even begin.

Against his will, she thought, like everything else. 

"And for all of that, I don't even know what it says, or why–," his voice cracked, so soft she almost missed it, "why he did this to me. Other than for his own sick enjoyment." His hand returned to feeling the raised markings, barely able to reach half of them. "Ever since they healed, I've been tracing them trying to decipher what it says, to understand it, but I've never even seen it. I don't even know what language it is."

Tav furrowed her brow, tilting her head slightly. So much mutilation, and he wasn't even given the grace of knowing the tongue. "It's infernal," she finally said matter-of-factly.

"I don't need your–" Astarion started a rehearsed snap, but stopped short, whirling once more on her. This time he did not try at all to school his surprise. "You…you can read this?" Something alive glimmered in that voice, something crawling up from beneath the bitter anger.

She tilted her head, lifting a single brow, and then motioned to herself as her tail swished behind her. 

He looked abashed, knowing it was obvious, and bobbed his head, "Fair point," he conceded, "but why in the hells would it be in infernal?"

Her brows knit together, and he squirmed under her stare. The vampire wanted to flee from it, never look back, while also knowing he likely couldn't if he tried.  "I can't help you with that part, but would you like me to read it to you?"

Astarion balked, thrown off that she would even offer. "I–,” he had played in his head how the rest of this conversation would go, and this wasn’t it.  He had to think faster on his feet with her, and he hated it. But still, she was offering something to him he'd never imagined being given, and that was hard to pass up. “This isn't your problem," he replied, voice soft again. Why the hell hadn’t that come out with the ice he wanted?

Tav smiled.  Smiled, so gentle it cracked something in his chest.  It was the kind of smile you give someone who is hopelessly missing something obvious.  "I know, I'm helping you anyway, Astarion. Turn around," she mimed a small turn with her finger, "please."

The vampire hesitated, doubt flashing across his features. It was an act of trust, to turn his back on her at her request.  But no one had ever done this for him, and two centuries of not knowing was enough motivation. If nothing else, he could convince himself this was just another way he could use her to his gain.

Slowly, carefully, he revealed his marred flash again. 

Tav stepped closer to him, and she watched him tense, peering sidelong over his shoulder at her underneath silvery lashes. If she didn't know better, she'd almost think he stopped breathing, a single ruby eye trying to read her every intention.  It was the look of a predator admitting to a truce, but not betraying a single ounce of the danger to anyone who would violate it. He was on the defense, always, and she couldn't help wondering how exhausting that must be.

The tiefling lifted a clawed hand, but stopped and pulled it back just slightly.  She met his gaze again and held it, making him feel worlds more exposed than he already was.  Mortals were meant to look away, to buckle under that eye contact, but she did not. Still, there was little confidence in her stance now. The moment at hand was tenuous at best, and both felt they were teetering on the edge of shattering it. 

"Have you even been able to touch all of it?" she asked, finally breaking that silence. 

A beat of quiet consideration, a small guttering of his gaze, "No, the last person to touch it was Cazador."

She knit her brows, considering. Considering her present relationship with him; everything they had been through so far, how she felt about him. How she hoped, foolishly, he might have felt about her beneath all that bravado. Hells, he'd already fed on her…but somehow this felt leagues more intimate. 

"Can," the words almost died in her throat, fear trying to claw them back inside. "Can I touch you?"

Something unrecognizable flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. He quickly flashed that terrible, wonderful, dangerous grin at her. "How sweet of you to ask, darling." That word. He'd used it before, far more than once. It felt like a lie every time, the kind you tell to hide something carelessly broken. It was sickly sweet with an acrid aftertaste. Mostly because she found herself wishing it was sincere the more he said it. Like a fool. "Please do," he all but begged, turning away from her completely. To hide his face or to let her work, she couldn't be sure. 

But regardless, this was as close to permission as she would get.

The writing on his back was fragmented, like a part of a greater whole; something that barely made sense. Regardless, she moved to where she believed was the beginning of the inscription.

Her first touch, featherlight, sent a shock through him that took every ounce of his control to stifle. To give no indication of.  He could try with everything he had, but there was no hiding the tense in his jaw and the way his fangs ground together. He honestly thought she might hear it.

At first, the memory of his old master crashed into him like thunder, an explicit recollection of that pain, the screams he swallowed down that night, the gleefully authoritative tone in Cazador's voice as he carved into his flesh. Mutilating it, claiming it, defiling it.  The man, the monster that had done this to him was still out there, and regardless of how far Astarion ran, Cazador was waiting to take him back, to correct his mistakes. 

His mind whirled, submitting to the maelstrom that awakened with the contact on his wounds, spiralling down into the open maw of the past. It was a hungry beast, an etherious thing that needed to only be patient for the inevitable. It was going to swallow him whole sooner or later; he was a fool to think otherwise or that he had gained any shred of freedom.  Freedom was a lie. Freedom was as foolishly dangerous as hope. He needed only wait for it to be snatched away.

"Breathe."

The images shattered instantly; that simple word banished the darkness from his vision. A sunrise, more spectacular than any he had reclaimed since the infection, warmed over his thoughts. The fears and the horrors of the night found themselves held at bay with one word. 

Oblivious to the magnitude of her sway on him, she began to read his markings out loud, moving slowly to find the words in Common.  With every word, every syllable, her fingers traced across their respective marks, taking care not to touch him with her claws. 

It felt like a banishment.

She was rewriting it. 

The tiefling didn't know it, she might never know it, but every new mark she touched eclipsed the last soul to have touched it. The glide of her fingertips, hot to the touch, and the slow, reverent recitations of his markings awoke something.  Something deep, entombed , hidden in his chest stirred and brushed against old, rusty bars. He should have balked from it, checked the locks that held it in place.  Instead, he found himself deferring to it and his head lolled back, white curls cascading backwards.

Tav finished long before he wanted her to; he would have given her forever to stop. Astarion reveled in his delirium, stoking the feral hunger in his belly. 

He wanted more. 

More of the woman, more of her touch. Her scent. Her presence. Every inch of her, he wanted it.  The hunger made his throat sting, a hunger that should have been familiar, but this one had a different taste.  A long-forgotten flavor that had been tainted. How would it have tasted now?  Now that it would have only been for him?  Now that it was of his own volition, no one else’s?

For so long touch had been soured for him, something he wielded like a weapon for someone else's benefit. He had no value but what he could lure back with everything his body could offer.

But truthfully, Astarion could not recall the last time he had been touched in a way he enjoyed. In ernest rather than lust. In a way that reached beneath the mask to touch the raw, starving creature hidden there.

Perhaps he took too long to snap out of it, because her next word was not one engraved upon his skin. 

"Astarion?"

The beast rumbled within. His name, on her lips, was ecstacy reborn. 

But she couldn't know. And he couldn't trust himself, either to make himself vulnerable or to hurt her…it wasn’t clear.  The only thing that was, was that one of those options was more revolting to him than the other.

With every ounce of his willpower, Astarion swallowed the burning lump in his throat and schooled his face back into control.  Slowly, trying not to tremble, he picked back up his discarded tunic and shook the dust off of it.  He looked over his shoulder again and produced a small grin that he wanted to be a lot more theatrical than it was. "Thank you. I don't know the slightest bit of what that may mean, but it seems we will have no shortage of time to figure that out."

She smiled at him, easy and effortless.  A quiet agreement without an ounce of hesitation. The breath left his lungs, and he saw her how he had not seen her before.  For a brief moment, she looked like something more than a means to an end. Which could just as easily spell his own end, and if he knew what was good for him, he would perish the thought. He would keep her at bay, just enough to get what he needed, he keep himself and only himself safe.

But oh, when did Astarion ever know what was good for him?

I am a winged insect, and you are my funeral pyre. 

[leighaltieri]

now i'm in exile; roman bridger x reader

request: hello. Do you think you could tackle a Roman Bridger angst story where he has a boyfreind but breaks up with just prior to his killing spree ….but he knows he has to give them up so can focus on his mission and not be destracted by his feelings. He doesn't want them to know but kind of hints much to their confusion once he’s got himself sorted out ….they can pick up where they left off. Reader has enough at that point and storms off

summary: your boyfriend has been acting shady lately and you suspect he's hiding something from you.

warnings: angst, male reader, brief mention of murder

word count: 935

notes: i've never written for roman before, i hope i've done him justice <3 this was so much fun to write!! i hope you like it <3

read on ao3 | scream masterlist | title from this song

Roman had been acting strange recently. Ever since he’d been given the job directing Stab 3: Return to Woodsboro, he’d been a little off. He’d been quiet, keeping mostly to himself and a lot more irritable than usual. You were worried about him.

He came home from work late carrying a plastic bag, dismissing you with “I had to help with rewrites” when you questioned where he’d been. Then he was back to ignoring you, going straight to your shared bedroom to avoid you until you came to bed. So you decided you’d had enough of him isolating himself. You missed your boyfriend. You followed him to the bedroom, and found the door locked when you tried to confront him.

“Roman?” You knocked gently, “Can I come in?”

You could hear a faint rustling noise, then his footsteps getting closer before he unlocked and finally opened the door. He’d taken his glasses off, he was squinting at you in a way you usually found cute. His green eyes met yours and you almost wanted to forgive him.

“What’s up?” He asked, as if he had no idea.

You pushed the door open and stepped into your room. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda… I don’t know, weird lately. I’m worried about you.” You cupped his face, forcing him to turn his head and look at you.

“I’m fine.” He insisted, flinching away from your touch.

“Then why are you avoiding me? Have I done something? Are you… Are you gonna break up with me?”

He sighed, “I didn’t wanna do it like this. But yeah, I think we should take a break.” 

“Oh.” Your heart sank. You didn’t know how to react. You’d sort of expected it, but you weren’t prepared for him to actually say it, “Why?”

“It’s not you,” he said, taking your hand and gently squeezing it, “You haven’t done anything, darling. It’s just… work. I can’t talk about it, I’m sworn to secrecy, but it’s pretty intense, and I can’t be what you need right now” You knew he couldn’t talk about the movie because of spoilers, but you’d hoped he trusted you enough to open up at least a little.

You stepped closer to him, your heart aching. “Roman… Whatever’s going on, let me help you.”

“You can’t. Will you just drop it, please?” He snapped, his tone sharper.

“But-”

“I said drop it!” He raised his voice, and you instinctively stepped back.

“Okay then,” You resigned quietly,

He took a deep breath, “It’s only temporary. Once I’m done with the movie, we can pick up where we left off. I promise.”

You ignored him and grabbed your overnight bag, then opened your shared closet to pack some clothes.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Let’s just talk about this.”

You continued to ignore him, focusing on grabbing your clothes. Then you saw, stuffed right at the back of the closet, the plastic bag from earlier. A white mask with black eyes and a long mouth fixed in a permanent scream was poking out of it.

“Why the fuck do you have this?” you asked, throwing the bag at him. He caught it and set it down on the bed.

“Relax, baby, it’s just a prop. For Stab 3.”

“Then why is it in our closet and not on set?” You glared at him, those masks were more than props, they’d been used in real murders a few years ago.

“Don’t you trust me? What, you think I’m gonna start killing people?” He looked hurt for a brief moment before the anger took over. 

“Are you?”

Roman was silent. 

“Roman?” You said quietly, disbelief and shock evident in your voice, “No… You wouldn’t.”

“Of course not! Are you that fucking dumb? You really think I would?”

“I don’t know! You’ve been so distant lately, I feel like I don’t know you at all anymore.” You hurriedly packed your bag as you spoke.

He took a step towards you, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re overreacting, it’s just a prop I brought home from work today.” That didn’t explain why it was hidden in the back of the closet, but you shook your head and let it go for now.

“It’s not just the mask, Roman. It’s everything. You’ve been pushing me away for weeks, keeping secrets and lying to me!”

“I know, darling and I’m sorry. As soon as I’m done with Stab 3, we’ll be back together and everything will be back to normal.”

“No…” You zipped up your bag, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.” You turned around, searching his face for any sign of the man you fell in love with.

“Baby-” He started, but you cut him off.

“Don’t call me that. You broke up with me. It’s over.” 

He stood there, wanting to reach out to you but feeling like he was glued to the floor as you walked out of the bedroom and out of his life. You wanted to turn back, to run to him and tell him you’d wait for him. That you’d love him forever. But you knew leaving was the right thing to do.

“I just wanted to keep you safe. I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

“I know. But you did.” 

Roman watched you leave, and as you slammed the door behind you, he picked up the mask. He gripped it tightly, staring into its empty black eyes and wondering if getting revenge on Sidney was worth losing the man he loved. He’d find out soon enough.

[monpalace]

So

Im very very very VERY FUCKING SLOWLY rewriting ‘into the woods’ and it’s nothing Juciy yet but, as an offering to my favourite fanfic devil <3

You and the Chain, tired and worn from the long day of travel, cobbled together a campsite in a clearing off the beaten path of the thick forest. It was a wonder that you had found a space of even ground and semi-tame shrubbery, but thanks to the champion’s keen eye you now found yourselves readying for a night's rest, but not before a hearty meal! It was Warriors turn to cook tonight -Wind’s groans of displeasuring caused you to giggle, the pirate was never too keen on the Captain’s broths- yet as he started to set up the cooking pot he was seen scratching his head as he glanced around the clearing, eyes darting from the bags to the forest floor.

Curious, you walked over to the captain, making sure to avoid the lumps of heroes who spread themselves across the forest floor.

“Is everything alright?” You asked, your own eyes following his but finding nothing of interest.

“Ahh, yes,” He huffs with a chuckle, his confusion shifting to a soft smile as he heard your approach. “Just seems that we lack some firewood, both in our own supply and nature’s– but its nothing to worry about. Dinner shall be a tad late, in need of a wood run!”

The captain projected his voice on the last sentence, notifying the scattered members of the new development. A chorus of grunts, hums and other noises of acknowledgement ring out from the camp but the sudden rumble of a very familiar voice catches you off guard.

“No need, Captain.” Time -who was not there a moment ago- hummed, an axe rested on his armored shoulder. “You finish your preparation, leave the fuel to me.”

Time’s presence was…much closer than you are accustomed to, his axe-less shoulder almost brushing with yours, but you’re quick to dismiss it, casting your gaze down to the half built fire as you tried not to steal glances at the hero. A scoff causes your eyes to flicker up, Warriors now standing with his arms crossed with a ladle pointing at the armored man.

“Old man, while I appreciate the aid, I doubt your old bones would handle such weight on top of them.” Warriors smirked. “You’d need an extra set of hands–”

“I can help!”

The words left you before you could stop them but before you could correct yourself a snicker comes from the Captain. His lips part, probably to make a teasing remark about your eager response but when a hand comes to your shoulder and gently pulls you close to a warm -and uncomfortably hard- side the comment dies on his tongue.

“And I believe I found them.” Time remarked, an unseen smirk on his lips. You could hear the way his voice rumbles in his broad chest being so close.

AHH?? fanfic (solar) system i am going to eat you.

i want that old man.

the way he just so happens to be right kn the reader's shoulder is insane to me because he had to have had that planned out? he knew he was tempting them like a harlot 😔

i am very excited for the rewrite and i expect to be tagged the moment its dropped

[journish]

It's almost 5 in the morning, but I just finished the first chapter of a Petrigrof fanfiction I've been chewing on for a hot minute. I haven't written fanfic since I was in high school. These two just bring something out of me I guess. I still need to edit it, and I want to drop a few chapters at a time, but let me share a little teaser here if you want the vibe. Warning that things get very sappy and a little bit steamy.

“You should close your eyes.” Betty whispered coyly.

“I don’t want to. I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and you’ll be gone again.” Simon responded.

“I don’t want to either. I don’t want to miss out on another second with you.” Betty cooed.

Simon scooted closer to Betty, and wrapped his arm around her waist. She fluttered at the familiar weight and warmth of the man against her. She, too, remembered how long it had been since she’d felt this kind of touch, and her body responded accordingly. She brought herself up to kiss her fiancé once more. This time, things escalated more quickly. Simon initiated the tongue-kissing, and they allowed themselves more fervor, enjoying the taste of their mouths intermingling. It was as if steam were coming from them with every catch of their breath. Betty’s legs rustled beneath the sheets as her body protested in arousal. Simon’s body was becoming needy as well, and a spreading wetness became apparent in the pajamas of both.

“Oh, Betty…” Simon sighed her name in between kisses as she panted, catching her breath.

“Simon…” she replied, lingering as the ‘n’ of his name became a long moan and her mouth crashed into his once again. Her hands traveled from his chest down to the waist of his pants where she discovered his arousal, causing him to gasp and jolt away. Simon’s eyes snapped shut, and he shook.

“Simon, are you okay?” Betty fretted over her lover’s response.

“I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Simon trembled “It’s just been so long, I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off, not even completely sure what he meant. His nerves had officially gotten the better of him and he felt foolish and impotent. The two of them had once enjoyed a vibrant and healthy sex life, but it was hard to reconcile that fact when he felt this much like a pent-up virgin. Obviously, his body was remembering exactly what it was meant to do, but his mind had not caught up. He was cowering in the face of finally coming to hold what he had dreamt about for as long as he could recall, and the pressure of wanting to create something perfect and memorable had become too much to bear. 

“It’s okay, it’s really okay, my love. We don’t have to decide what we want right now, just like you said.” She gave him a firm peck on the lips. Betty had not gone into the room with expectations of her own, and was ready to only go as far as her shaken lover was prepared for. She herself was antsy about all the firsts they would get to redo in this new life they’d been given. Betty loved the idea of getting to know him all over again, rewriting a love story she thought had been lost forever, but she was not one to rush into it. She wanted it to be perfect, too.  “We have all the time in the world. Whenever you’re ready again, just say the word and I’m yours.”

Simon heard her tender reassurance and his eyes became hot with tears, “Betty…” he whimpered. He pulled her close to him again, his cheek against her hair, and small sobs began to surface. He thought that he’d done all his crying when he first saw her again, but the immense relief and comfort that she was alive and in his arms once again was still deep enough to push the tears from his eyes. Betty too, began to cry in his wake. She pressed her cheek to his chest and grabbed onto the back of his pajama shirt with tight fists. They clung to each other with the desperation of frightened animals, and they intended never to let go."

so YEAH, it's going to eventually get smutty, but we're lingering in the fluff right now. Please let me know if you like this and want more, I have a LOT of ideas, so I really hope to keep this momentum going. Anyway I'm going to bed.

[autumntouched]

Day 25 of Ode to Phoenix

Summary: Part of the Hannix Football Rivalry AU Series in which Jake is a Cowboys fan (lol like Glen) and Natasha is a 49ers fan (like Monica and me)

Jake and Natasha's Wedding, Pt. I - The Ceremony

Pairings: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Warnings: None for this part, just fluff

A/N: This fic got really long so I'm posting it in three parts. I'm sorry this took awhile, and I'm a little nervous about it but needed to stop rewriting and get on to your ACTUAL requests. Thank you so much to everyone who submitted song suggestions! As you'll see, I may have gotten a little carried away. Please don't judge my song picks too harshly. Okay, hope you enjoy!

I'm sharing the full Hannix Wedding Playlist here, but the key songs are also included when they appear in the fic.

The Wedding | Pt. I - The Ceremony

Natasha wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to feel on her wedding day but the eye of a hurricane hadn’t been on her list. 

She sits quietly in a corner of the room off the beautifully decorated outdoor terrace that overlooks the mountains. As soon as Jake shyly told her that he wants to see her face from the moment he lays eyes on her as his bride, she chose a light veil that cascades down her back. Her dark hair is swept into a low side chignon with a few pieces left out to frame her face. For the ceremony, she wears Jake’s great-grandmother’s pearl comb in her hair, pearl drop earrings and their matching necklace.

Although it took some searching, Gabby helped her find the perfect wedding dress. The elegant, yet simple, sleeveless fitted bodice has a low square neck and open back that flows into a slightly flared skirt and train of floating layers of lace. A sash defines her waist. Her dahlia, peony, astilbe, and eucalyptus bouquet rests on a table beside her. Folded and tucked into the ribbon wound around the stems are her handwritten vows, although she’d memorized them weeks ago. Lightly, she drums her soft pink nails on her knees.

While the photographer flits around, the wedding planner and her mother try to herd the bridal and grooms parties together. Payback is doing his frantic best, with Amelia’s help, to keep the flower girls and ring bearer from wrinkling or tearing their clothes while protecting his dress whites from a game of tag.

Everyone else is so worried about today going perfectly but as long as Jake is standing there when she walks outside, Natasha couldn’t care less about the rest. 

“You ready, Captain?” her dad asks, voice brittle with emotion. Gabby was always “Princess” and from the day she told him she wanted to be a pilot, Natasha became “Captain.” He’s wearing a tailored black suit that flatters his stocky yet athletic figure and swarthy complexion. His hair and trimmed beard are more gray and white than they are black now, and his rugged face a little weathered from too much sun. But he still has the youthful energy of her childhood. 

She reaches for his hand. Even now, his grip suffuses her with a sense of safety and steadiness. “I’ve never been more sure of anything I’ve done,” she promises.

He kisses the top of her head. “You’ve always been sure of yourself.”

Natasha smooths her thumb over her engagement ring, now on her right hand. “This feels different though,” she admits hesitantly. “It’s the one thing I’ve ever been scared of doing.” 

That’s not entirely true. There are plenty of things she’s been scared of in her life. She’s a military aviator. But flying, her career–all the other things–they always feel like they are largely within her control, even when things don’t turn out as expected. If she works hard, prepares well, and plans accordingly, the rest falls into place. 

Loving Jake doesn’t come with control. Left up to her, a cocky, smart ass, antagonistic fellow aviator is not who she would have picked to fall for. Even falling in love had been a question mark on her life road map. But they were in too deep before they even realized they’d left the shore a long way back, everyone else well aware of the only three words left to say between them. Those three words, though they’ve been said many times since, still terrify her because they mean there’s another person at the controls of her heart. 

Her father tilts her chin up so she looks him in the eye. His gray eyes are soft yet pained. “Nasha, I promise that you aren’t your mother and me. We didn’t know each other or ourselves half so well as you and Jake do. And I’m proud of you for that.” 

She squeezes his hand as he clears his throat and swipes a tear from his cheek. “Thank you, Dad.” 

Mama comes over to them, practically floating in a midnight blue dress with lace sleeves. “Your gown’s going to get wrinkled sitting down, bumblebee,” she worries. Natasha gets to her feet to keep Mama calm and lets her fuss over the back of the gown. She meets her dad’s gaze and they suppress their smiles. This is how her mother deals with her nerves.  

“I’ve got it, Mama,” Gabby sighs. She’s stunning in her dark green bridesmaid gown with her hair flowing down her back in luscious brown waves, one side swept up with a gold, floral hairpiece. “Luca’s waiting for you.”

Natasha gives Mama a final hug and reluctantly watches her leave. Lise, the wedding planner, motions for the groom and bride’s parties to follow her out too. The room falls still and oddly hushed with only her sister and father left at her sides. 

Gabby picks up the bouquet and smiles at her almost shyly. Natasha’s heard horror stories of family members falling out while planning a wedding, but she’s never felt closer to her sister and isn’t sure she would be here without her. Had it been up to her with all of the planning and decisions that had gone into this day, she’d be marrying Jake in a courthouse with no one but them and a witness. “Jake’s going to lose it when he sees you,” Gabby says reassuringly. 

Natasha’s heart flutters with nerves for the first time. She hasn’t seen Jake since he kissed her goodbye early this morning when she left to get ready. It’s a little unfair. He opted for dress whites for the ceremony so she’s seen him in his wedding attire. But he’s never seen her like this. Silly as it is, because Jake wouldn’t care if he married her wearing jeans and a t-shirt, she hopes he likes the dress she picked. “He’ll kill me if he cries,” she laughs. Only because he’ll owe her money for betting she’ll cry more. He never learns, but she loves him for that too.

“He’s not going to be able to help it, Captain,” her dad warns while her sister looks her over with a wry twist to her mouth. 

“Yeah, he’s going to be a fast widower then because you’re stunning, Nasha,” Gabby adds, her face brightening with anticipation. “C’mon, let’s see if we can hear what’s happening.” She pulls Natasha to the door, and they’re like little kids again with their ears pressed to the wood trying to listen in while their parents talk. 

When the guitar instrumental of “Your Song” starts, Natasha grabs Gabby’s hand knowing that Jake’s entering the ceremony now. She imagines him walking down the aisle, tall and handsome while he struggles to look appropriately solemn instead of grinning from ear to ear. They’d agreed to let the other pick the song that they would walk down the aisle to, and she chose this one for him. Its sentiment is deceptively straightforward but there are profound depths within it, as there are in him and their life together. She also wants Jake to know how proud she is for everyone to know that he is the most important part of her life.  

Her stomach suddenly turns to a mess of butterflies. There’s a knock on the door, and Lise pops her head in. “We’re ready for you, Natasha.” Early on in their planning, Lise kept calling her “the bride,” but for some reason constantly being referred to by her marriage title annoyed Natasha and she’d insisted on her name. But she can no longer escape that today, that is what she is. 

Before panic can seize her, Gabby places the bouquet in her hands and kisses her cheek. “Just keep looking at Jake,” she whispers. Dad offers her his arm while Gabby moves behind her to adjust Natasha’s train and veil.

“Remember,” he tells her with a reassuring smile, placing his hand over the one she rests on his forearm, “today is about your life with Jake. The rest is all ceremony.”

That helps settle her nerves, and she’s further bolstered by the excitement of their friends and family as she walks past them to the end of the procession. Bob beams and waves at her and Rooster leans down to kiss her cheek. Nora pumps up her hands. 

Lise directs her to stand behind Alexis, her nieces Cora and Olivia, and cousin’s son, Charlie, who clutches the petal covered tray with the rings like his little life depends on it. The girls all wear dresses with floating white skirts and an oversized bow at their back. Alexis’s hair is braided in a thick, ribbon threaded crown around her head while Olivia and Cora have half their dark curls pulled back in bows. Charlie wears an adorable black three piece suit with a dark green tie that matches those of the civilian groomsmen. 

“So pretty,” Alexis sighs in awe, looking up at her through wide, round eyes. Today, with her hair up, she favors Nora more than Payback with her high cheekbones and square jaw. 

“You look like a princess,” Olivia agrees, brushing the front of Natasha’s dress with her fingers. Cora nods from where she hides in her older cousin’s side. 

“You all look like princesses too,” Natasha whispers back, making the girls smile. 

Gabby takes her place as Maid of Honor beside Jake’s Best Man, his cousin, Zach. Several years younger than Jake, he’d been the talk of the rehearsal dinner with his height, thick waves of dark hair that swoop to his shoulders, and full lips. He hands Gabby her bouquet and murmurs something that makes her lean into him with a giggle. Ahead in the line, Rooster looks over his shoulder at them.

One by one the pairs disappear through the gauzy curtains that sway with the late afternoon breeze. Then the children with their tray of rings and baskets. Cora insists on holding onto Olivia, so the two older girls help spread her petals. Natasha waits until she hears the first strums of “Every Breath You Take” and takes a deep breath. This is it. 

“The stalker song?” she’d asked when Jake suggested it, barely containing her laughter because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. 

He’d looked slightly sheepish and a little upset because he heard her judgment anyway. “We have only so many times to tell someone we love them, Nat. I just want you to know that no matter what happens to me, and even if you can’t see me, I’ll always be with you.” She’d had nothing to say to that, especially once she heard the instrumental version. 

The curtains part and the guests are asked to stand for the bride. All eyes turn toward her as she walks down the petal scattered aisle on her father’s arm. A breeze lifts and flutters her veil, skirt, and loose tendrils of hair and carries the guests’ gasps and murmurs past her ears. When she shivers, Natasha isn’t sure whether it’s because of the change in temperature or the change to her life waiting only feet ahead of her.

Taking Gabby’s suggestion, Natasha looks for Jake and finds him on the dais at the front. Their gazes lock, and his jaw goes momentarily slack at the sight of her. He clenches his teeth just in time to keep his mouth closed and his face relatively solemn. Although his lips are taut with the emotion that he’s trying to blink out of his eyes, he’s beaming hard enough to wash the whole terrace in his pride. 

She doesn’t bother to try to contain her smile as her heart soars beyond the height of the mountains behind him. Her father is right. Today is about the rest of her life with the man standing before her, looking at her like the universe moves at her command. Although she’s seen him in his uniform plenty of times, Jake’s never looked so dazzling and yet so vulnerable. It requires a significant amount of her restraint to proceed to the tempo of the music rather than run into his arms, so she takes the time to memorize every detail of the way he looks in this moment for forever. 

Her father pauses so Mama, who’s already clutching a wad of soaked tissues, can hold Natasha’s face and kiss each of her cheeks. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” she tells her. 

“I love you, Mama.” Natasha is startled by the tears that rise to hers. Her sister-in-laws blow her kisses and wave her attention toward the front. 

When Natasha turns from her family, Jake has stepped down to meet her. He waits, hands folded in front of him. Up close, she can see that he’s somehow even more handsome than she imagined. Especially with his blond hair a little longer at the top so that it folds into a neat wave, the closest he’s ever worn it to regulation, and his uniform slightly strained across his chest and upper arms.

Dad escorts her the last few steps, and they stop before Jake. “I’m trusting you to take care of her,” her father says with a fervor that surprises her.

Jake nods solemnly through the glistening tracks of tears on his face. “I promise, sir. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second she will be the most important part of my life.” 

Natasha almost starts crying right then and there.

Her father looks down at her. “Are you ready?” She nods, not trusting herself to speak, and he takes the hand on his forearm and places it in Jake’s large, warm, sure one. Kissing her cheek one last time, he leaves them to go forward together.

Suddenly, it’s like the entire world shifts without anyone but them noticing. Her heart races as she stands on the verge of tying her life, her heart, her future to his. As if sensing her trepidation, Jake draws her to him. “Last chance to eject,” he whispers so that only she can hear. The smile around his eyes steadies her.

“Too late,” she promises, although her pulse threatens to drown out the words. “I’m not leaving without you.” He sways forward, gaze dropping to her lips. 

“After, dude,” interrupts Coyote from his spot in the line of groomsmen to their guests’ loud amusement. “You kiss her after you’re married now.” 

They chuckle, the last of her hesitation melting away, and Jake helps her onto the dais. 

—

It’s not until their vows that her nerves return. She’s not sure whether she’s glad Jake is going first to warm up the crowd or worried she’ll have to follow him. 

“Natasha.” He says her name with his usual mix of playfulness, adoration, and hint of cheek. His dimples are on full display, and she braces herself for the ride this could be. “You know it’s never enough that I think you’re the greatest, sweetheart. I expect everyone else to know it too. So it may not come as a surprise that I tried to crowdsource my vows in exchange for guaranteeing everyone a meal at the reception.

Several bursts of knowing laughter and groans among their parties and the guests tell her that isn’t a joke. She shakes her head at him in disbelief as he goes on. “I can’t tell if this hurt or helped our rsvps because I also told them they could only eat if I liked what they said. People took the assignment with varying degrees of seriousness. Some, like your wizzo, were clearly okay with starving for the night.

Natasha glances over at Bob who looks at her like you knew what you were getting into with this one. “There are children present so I can’t repeat exactly what he said in his response, but it was to the effect that he has more respect for you than he does for me. Which, if I’m honest, most of our guests, including too many members of my own family, seem to agree with. But if this were about me, we could have saved a lot of money not feeding everyone and had a much longer honeymoon. If the Navy could spare us for that long.

His eyes softening while everyone laughs at his compulsion to brag about them even in his vows is her only warning that he might have an emotional juggernaut up his uniform sleeve. “But today, and every day from here forward, is officially about you, Nat. And I say ‘officially’ because it’s actually been that way for a long time. From the day our paths first crossed in training, even before I took my head out of my as–behind, excuse me–to hopefully be the man you deserve, I’ve looked up to you for being the incredibly brilliant, competitive, and kind person that you are. I know you don’t put much stock in how beautiful you are on the outside, but what I see most is a reflection of how absolutely stunningly beautiful you are on the inside. Everything you touch, everything you join, everyone you know is better for having you as part of them. If you only knew the stories the people here shared about what you mean to their lives and what you have done for them, you wouldn’t be standing here about to put a ring on my finger. 

She looks to the sky to fight every urge to cry until she realizes that means missing all of the effort Jake has gone through to put his love into words. Natasha surrenders and lets her eyes fall back to his face, willing only that her own doesn’t crumple into a bawling disaster. Tenderly and careful of her makeup, he dabs a handkerchief to the tears along her already soaked cheeks and chin before he continues. “The only reason I am standing here, willing to let you do that, is because I can swear that I will live by the example you set to wake up every single day and learn from my mistakes to do better. I will cheer you on to be the best at anything you do but always be there to make sure you know you are everything and enough as you are. And I promise to remember that as hard as it can be to say “sorry,” it is harder to know you’re hurting because of me. I will do my best to make you smile when you’re too hard on yourself. I will believe in you on those rare occasions you doubt yourself. I will hold you when you’re afraid to cry or be scared. I swear to always be there to take care of you, in sickness and in health, so I don’t waste a moment of this life with you. Natasha, I trust, that like everything else with you in it, our marriage will be better because of you. But I promise, too, to make sure that even on the hardest days, it is always the best part of both our lives.”       

From the sound of sniffles and nose blowing, she’s not the only one who couldn’t keep her eyes dry during his vows. And crap. She has to follow that. Gabby offers her the folded square from her bouquet, but she motions for her to keep it. Natasha flexes each of her fingers then summons every bit of her composure to make her own promises to him. 

“Jake,” she starts with a smirk, imitating the veneer of humility he can slather ironically across any word. A smile of recognition tucks into the corner of his mouth. “I’d saved time on my calendar to write my vows but then one day you made me so angry that I figured it was as good a time as any to start them so I could remind myself why I agreed to go through with this before the next time you decided not to listen to me.” Their guests laugh nervously on his behalf. She flashes him a reassuring grin to let him know that’s as hard of a time as she’s going to give him for allowing a lactose intolerant Alexis to have a milkshake while he was on babysitting duty. “What I found is that on the other side of whatever it is that you did to make me mad is something that I love most about you.

Her insides melt at the quiet surprise that loosens the lines around his eyes and mouth. “Sometimes you’re so confident in your own ability to solve a problem that you don’t listen when someone tells you how. But from that also comes your open sense of adventure and fun, your willingness to try a different way of doing things, and your unwavering belief that there is no problem too big for us if we work through it together. Sometimes you jump into things before you’ve thought them through. But that’s because you know that life can be too short to have all the answers and all the plans figured out. And you are always there to catch me as fast as you are to jump. You may be able to push someone’s buttons, but you know the right buttons to push because you are, contrary to what you might want people to believe, one of the most sensitive, protective, and caring people I’ve ever met. You are my fiercest protector but also the first to let me soar. You never second guess yourself or hesitate when someone needs your protection, and although that has gotten you in trouble from time to time, it’s what allows me to live as fearlessly as you. Because you are also one of the most fearless people I’ve ever known, one of the most brave, and one of the most honorable. And only you would think you have to make any promises or be anything more than you are for me to want today and every day to be your wife, to have the privilege of loving you, caring for you, and building a life with you.

At this point, she knows Jake will win their bet because only a single tear arcs out the corner of his eye. But Natasha couldn’t care less because she can tell from the intensity with which he’s watching her that he’s engraving every phrase into his memory. And if someone were to ask him a year from now, without hesitation or review, he’ll remember what she said today word for word. “You are my d-head because I love you as much for the things about you that make me angry as I do for the things about you that make you the man of my dreams. Because all of it makes you the man of my dreams, even if I didn’t know what I was dreaming of until you were right in front of me. You are never hard to love, Jake, only impossible to resist loving. And I know our dreams for ourselves are big, our goals incredibly lofty, but I promise in this life and any other, if all I get to do is laundry and taxes with you, I will be happy.”  

—

Jake reaches for her hands to watch their ring warming ceremony while “Accidentally in Love” fills the late afternoon air. The tiny pouch of their wedding bands passes from guest to guest, each taking a moment to bless them, give them their well wishes, kiss them, cheer them. Everyone’s love poured into their own for today and the rest of their lives to come. 

The lively tune, an anthem to them finding themselves in love before they even knew they were falling for one another, keeps the rings moving quickly. Jake’s parents clasp the pouch together then lift their hands to their lips to kiss it. When the bands reach Maverick and Penny, he salutes them and she presses them to her heart. Amelia cups them and blows into her palms. Natasha’s aunt makes the sign of the cross with the pouch and presses it to her lips. At last the rings come to her mother, who holds them while the rest of her family stacks their hands over hers then raises them in a loud cheer. Unprompted, all of their guests stand and applaud as the warmed rings are returned to Zach. 

Carefully, he removes the band meant for Natasha and gives it to Jake. Everything goes quiet, still. So still that Natasha realizes she’s stopped breathing. She watches Jake’s face waver in its composure while he slides the delicate, twisted vine, diamond ring onto her finger. “Natasha, I give you this ring as a gift that lasts forever. Know that I am always with you, behind you, by your side, and I’ll ride in this life with you to the end.”

He wets his lips, cheeks and eyes pinched to hold back his tears. With her wedding band in place forever, he moves her engagement ring back to her left hand then caresses her knuckles with his thumb. “I love you, Nat,” he whispers, touching his forehead and nose to hers. In this moment, it’s only them bound in the love neither of them expected to find but won’t let go now they’ve found it. Finally, she exhales. 

It takes all of Natasha’s training to keep her hands steady when Gabby passes her the gold wedding band meant for Jake. Guiding it onto his finger, she promises, “Jake, I give you this ring as a gift that lasts forever. Know that I’m always with you, behind you, by your side, and I’ll ride in this life with you to the end.” 

A swell of elation sends the words deep into her soul, permanently shifting the axis of her heart to align with his. She loves the way his hand looks with the band on his finger, and she’s not sure she’ll ever get tired of looking at it there. Jake touches her cheek, stroking away a tear she doesn’t realize she sheds. 

“By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The pronouncement is barely finished before he leans in to kiss her. The touch of his lips is light and tender at first, one arm wrapping firmly around her shoulders and the other her waist to hold her close. But as their groom and bride’s parties stamp their feet and whistle them on, he sweeps her lips apart with his tongue and kisses her knees out from under her. Natasha folds into him, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep herself afloat in the overwhelming rush of love he couldn’t put into words. 

—

When the civilian members of their parties and their guests have filed out to await them at the terrace entrance, Maverick, Bob, Rooster, Coyote, Payback, Fanboy, and Jake’s groomsmen from the Naval Academy, John and Derek, line up before them. At Maverick’s command they march down the aisle in two rows.

Natasha laces her fingers through Jake’s. “Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms.” He raises their joined hands to his lips and kisses the newly added symbols of their marriage, then the knuckles on either side. “Ready?” she asks. 

“As long as you don’t let go,” he promises. When he helps her down from the dais, she wonders how it took them so long to realize that they could have all this together. She never wants to let him go.

The white uniformed lines of their friends stop and turn to face one another. They each march two steps back until there’s a passage between them for Jake and Natasha. Maverick calls the command to draw swords. As one, their friends pull their swords from their sheaths and cross them in the air, forming the Arch of Swords. Everyone applauds the fairytale-like salute, and Jake squeezes her hand as they begin their first walk as husband and wife.

When they reach Maverick and Fanboy, they lower their crossed swords, neither of them trying to conceal their grins. “The price of passage is a kiss!” Fanboy chants gleefully. 

Jake cradles her jaw and softly kisses her lips to their friends and family’s cheers. They’re allowed to proceed to Rooster and Payback’s lowered swords. Payback winks as Rooster announces, “The price of passage is a kiss!” 

This time Jake wraps an arm around her and pulls her into him. Natasha rises onto tiptoe, leaning into his chest, and letting her foot drift into the air. The applause grows louder. Rooster and Payback let them proceed to John and Derek. 

They don’t know her as well so their smiles are less suggestive than the Dagger Squad’s. “The price of passage is a kiss,” calls Derek. 

Jake slides a hand beneath her bun and with his thumb tilts her mouth up to his, sweeping his tongue across hers while several of their guests, her brothers among them she’s pretty sure, whistle loudly through their fingers. 

When they get to the last pair of crossed swords, Bob beams at them while Coyote smirks as if he’s seen this coming from the first moment he saw them together. One final time, Bob and Coyote together tell them, “The price of passage is a kiss.” 

Jake dips her, sending a firestorm through her veins with his last deep kiss. Their guests go wild clapping, cheering, and stamping their feet. He has to do all the work of setting her back on her feet, and she still stumbles to get her footing. They pass through the last set of raised swords, Bob and Coyote swatting each of them on the butt as they stumble forward into their new life.

Jake clutches her hand, not letting go.

Part II | Part III

Ode to Phoenix Masterlist

Hannix Football Rivalry Series AU

Tag List: @melodiousoblivionao3

[shibumi-tanuki]

Here it is: the Christ Thorndyke rewrite.

Prepare yourselves, I have SO much to say about this

Name: Chris Thorndyke

Age: 13 years old (season 1 and 2)

Being the only child of a wealthy CEO and renounced model, Chris was born to a life of luxury and solitude. He doesn't remember either of his parents showing up for the entrance ceremony of his first day of primary school, nor for any academic events that happened in the years to come. His birthdays were the few times he got to speak with his parents in a way that wasn't through rushed phone calls right before his bed time or when he was due to leave for school (his parents couldn't care less for keeping up with time zone differences while they were abroad). It didn't help he had no friends at school; at first, dozens of children from school would show up for his birthday parties, but they always asked to see what Chris' parents had gifted him— unbeknownst to them these were more apology gifts for not being around most of the year than birthday gifts. However, Chris didn't care much for the mountains of toys and games— after a while, they got boring anyway. Instead, he proposed to go play in the park or venture out into the nearby woods in search of adventure, but ultimately resigned to forcibly smiling as his "friends" took turns using a remote control race car per their request.

Chris always liked the outdoors: It wasn't stuffy, and he didn't need to watch where he ran in fear of knocking over an expensive vase and being chastised by the maids and Mr. Tanaka for it. For a while, he forgot who we even was, and the only thing on his mind was seeing how far he could climb up a tree or what crevices and natural passageways he might encounter. Of course, it never lasted. Eventually a maid would come out looking for him and off he was to take a shower and have dinner by himself. Again.

Now, it wasn't like he was completely alone. He had his grandfather! Yes, an energetic man for his age, always interested in engineering and robotics, sometimes to the point of forgetting to sleep or eat. Chris always thought of him as the second coolest person he knew (his uncle Sam was first), but that didn't change the fact he did he wish his grandfather would take more breaks, or even spend time with him for a change...

At any rate, time passed by, and Chris grew.

Each year, his parents became more busy as their fame grew, and so did Chris' resentment towards them.

Other kids got to see their parents cheer for them at school music presentations and stage plays, they got to run into their arms every day after school and go home to a cozy home where they could tell their family about their day over dinner.

But not Chris.

Chris, on the other hand, could expect to see an indifferent maid holding up a camera with not an ounce of emotion on her face or Mr. Tanaka doing the same thing. "That was great, master Christopher," they would say, and Chris would try to make himself small as a flurry of eyes from parents and kids alike turned to him.

There were whispers of amazement, others of pity, and the boy hated them all the same.

Why? He wondered. Why was he only known as his parents' son? As the kid who had everything he could ask for yet wanted nothing of it? Why couldn't he just have been born a normal kid to a normal family in the first place?

And so he sought an escape.

He neglected all the new clothes his parents sent him from overseas and opted for comfortable clothes he bought on his own with his allowance, setting out for the city's skating park where he'd spent his afternoons perfecting tricks and jumps that would have had the maids and Mr. Tanaka physically stop him from even thinking about attempting. It was his sanctuary, his release, and boy did Chris fall in love with the exhilarating feeling that came with it.

One night, however, his life would be turned upside down by an unlikely encounter with a blue and snarky hedgehog...

[feathers-nest]

Zyglavis x Reader - Post-Canon

This is a new version of an old fic. I will be reposting, rewriting or editing most of my old fics, from my early days on Tumblr, to make an actual Tumblr fic post (the old posts only have the AO3 links), some of them (like this one) will be reposted as xReader versions, and so they are on the right blog too.

Summary: As you and Zyglavis prepare for your promised wedding on Earth, you realize you never told your parents much about him

Masterlist // Old Version

Zyglavis wasn’t surprised when you told him you wanted to invite your parents to the wedding ceremony the two of you were planning to have on Earth. What surprised him was how fidgety you were about it.

“You’ve told your parents about us, haven’t you?”

“Kind of. I have been deciding what and how to tell them. It’s not like I can just come out and tell the truth, can I?”

Of course, you couldn’t just come out and tell your parents he was a god, but with how much you talked with your mother, he didn’t expect for your not to have come up with something already.

“That is certainly not an option. But I thought you had told them something.”

“I told them your name and told them we were dating. It wasn’t important to fill them into anything else before.” You looked up from the book you were reading. Despite the serious situation, you were smiling. “How would I know we would be here, preparing to get married on Earth, and that I would have the opportunity to invite them to the wedding?” You snuggled into his chest, and Zyglavis hugged you.

Everything about your relationship was a miracle. You were two beings that shouldn’t have even met, and your relationship had been tested many times. Despite that, you were now married by heavenly custom, and he wanted to give you the earthly wedding you dreamed of as well.

Neither of you had dared to dream this was possible, so it was understandable you hadn’t prepared for it before. But between his proposal and all the preparations, you should have realized he would need to meet your parents before the wedding.

“We are very lucky, indeed.” He caressed your hair, feeling you relax more under his touch. “That doesn’t change the fact that your parents know nothing about me when you are trying to tell them we are getting married. What do you plan to tell them?”

“Don’t worry.” You looked up at him with an even bigger smile. “I’ll just tell them the closest to the truth as possible. I have some ideas. I’m just dreading a couple of questions.”

“One is where I’m from. Just telling them I am from somewhere else, like you do with your co-workers won’t be enough.” You nodded. “The other is about work.”

You shook your head and snuggled into him again, chuckling.

“I’m prepared for that last one. I’m afraid Dad might ask how old you are. But I guess just saying I love you too much to even bother asking isn’t a lie.”

“In other words, distract them until they stop asking.” He shook his head and sighed, hugging you tighter. It wasn’t the most honest idea, but it was so much like you to avoid lying as much as possible, and given the circumstances, that was an impressive feat.

“Better than lying to them, right? Or we could just convince my sisters to bring Hue and Karno along. It’s always easier to escape uncomfortable things in a group. Besides, these things are so minimal, I doubt they’ll get hung up on it when they see how much I’m happy, even if they don’t understand. The fact that I love you and you love me is all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Of course.” Zyglavis smiled as you looked up into his eyes again. The only reason he was doing these things, and the only reason that doing them right mattered to him, was because he knew they would make you happy. If you said it was fine and that you didn’t mind, then why would he?

Zyglavis kissed you, knowing that, no matter what happened, you would have a bright future, because your love was stronger than anything.