#there is a high possibility that this was supposed to be obvious and I am just Slow

[harrumphingtons]

yall I just realized that since sol regem is still blind and Pharos was supposed to be his eyes and Pharos was the one possessed by Aaravos, sol regem possibly had no idea that he was destroying katolis and not the Sunfire armies

he probably wouldn’t care who was destroying either considering he hates humans but still

[kaiijo]

ROMANCE TROPES — [HAIKYUU]

characters: hinata shoyo, miya atsumu, bokuto koutarou, sakusa kiyoomi content: gn! reader, the msby four, rich sakusa (i am a rich sakusa truther until the end), bokuto picks you up, sakusa is implied to be taller than you notes: omg i lowkey want to do a fuller version of sakusa’s part 

hinata shoyo ✶ love at first sight

slouched in a plastic airport seat, hinata’s leg bounces anxiously as he awaits his flight. rain beats down the side of the windows and he prays to whatever universal force there is that the flight leaves at the right time. he couldn’t fly with everyone else earlier since he celebrated his grandmother’s birthday with family but it put him on a late night flight that lined up with an incoming storm. 

he scrolls mindlessly through his social media feed, double-tapping a photo of oikawa’s reunion with his high school team and tanaka’s anniversary post for kiyoko. 

the speaker system crackles to life. “attention, passengers of flight 7644 to sapporo, due to inclement weather conditions, the flight has been delayed an estimated two hours. we apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience.”

hinata curses under his breath, already on his way to pulling up the black jackals’s group chat to tell them. he pulls his cap off, running a hand through his hair with a long sigh. his phone begins to buzz with texts, no doubt from his coach telling him to keep them updated. 

he rests his forearms on his knees, slumping forward and skimming through the messages. then, he feels a cautious tap on his shoulder and a soft voice asks, “excuse me, do you have a charger i could use?”

when he looks up, hinata thinks the greater powers that be answered a different prayer of his. because holy shit he has never seen anyone as beautiful as you. you’re in a comfy-looking pullover and sweatpants and hinata only realizes he’s just been staring silently for a few seconds when your expression turns apologetic. “i’m sorry to bother you, i’ll ask someone else!”

“no, no, i’m sorry,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth. he scrambles to unzip his backpack, rummaging through until he triumphantly pulls out his charger. he hands it to you and you thank him. before you can leave, he blurts out, “i’m hinata.”

“oh!” you stick your hand out and tell him your name with a small smile and when you do, hinata knows that he’s gone. 

miya atsumu ✶ brother’s best friend

osamu’s not sure how atsumu managed to weasel his way into his plans. it was a bit of a blur, atsumu practically crashing through the door of onigiri miya as osamu closed up shop to go get drinks with you, begging to be included. he supposes to reason was pity and atsumu’s pleading look as well as the fact that you work far away that had him agreeing to his brother tagging along. 

it was in your last year of high school that osamu figured out his brother had a big, fat crush on you. honestly, it should have been more obvious, especially with the way atsumu flaunted himself and often paraded around the house shirtless when he knew you were coming over. it bothered him at first, thinking bitterly that ‘tsumu couldn’t let him just have one thing to himself? but over time, the annoyance faded as he saw atsumu prove that this wasn’t just a flight-of-fancy, and osamu has already made peace with the very real possibility that you could be his in-law someday. that is, is atsumu could even tell you in the first place.

it’s a little disturbing, osamu thinks, watching the way atsumu flirts with you and wondering if he too makes the same googly-eyes at someone he’s crushing on or if that’s the way he sounds. you giggle when atsumu tries to take a sip of your margarita, telling him, “order your own then, ‘tsumu!”

“nah, yours tastes way better.”

“can’t take this scrub anywhere,” osamu says, earning a laugh from you and a glare from his twin.

you pat atsumu’s shoulder and osamu can’t believe you don’t feel how atsumu melts into your touch. “i’m actually glad both of you are here,” you say, “because i wanted to tell you guys that i’m moving back to tokyo! my boss promoted me so i’m back at main headquarters! isn’t that great?”

“that’s awesome,” osamu says, speaking for both himself and atsumu, who looks like he just won the lottery. 

bokuto koutarou ✶ opposites attract

whenever akaashi introduces you and bokuto as a couple to new people, he always gets pulled over to the side and asked in a whisper, “how did those two get together? he’s so… and they’re less…” 

akaashi can’t say that he wasn’t surprised when you and bokuto started dating back in high school, given that they two of you were on very different trajectories. obviously, bokuto was the captain of fukurodani’s volleyball team while you were student council president and vice-president of chess club. bokuto’s grade sat at the lower end of the spectrum while you were always within the top five students in your class. bokuto liked loud, screaming parties while you preferred a quiet night with a few friends. 

so when bokuto grabbed him by the shoulders one day and shook him, saying that he needed to tell you how he felt, akaashi was taken off-guarded. he didn’t even know you knew each other beyond having a mutual friend, him. 

maybe back then, akaashi would have agreed with the person asking him but now, he just tells them to observe the two of you. because when akaashi does, everything falls into place. like right now, as he and bokuto sit in the stands, watching your final chess match. if you win, you’ll hold onto your spot as a national champion and go on to compete internationally. 

out of the corner of his eyes, akaashi watches as bokuto sits at the very edge of his seat, chewing on his bottom lip. it’s clearly killing him not to cheer and it’s a testament to both his devotion to you. your hand hovers above the bishop before you switch quickly to the queen and move the piece with confidence, setting it down and announcing, “checkmate.”

the crowds erupts into the cheers and you’ve only barely finished shaking your opponent’s hand when bokuto flies out of his seat and barrels towards you. he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you once and setting you down before planting a big kiss on your cheek. you’re beaming as you’re handing your trophy, and bokuto steps back to let you soak up your spotlight. akaashi can’t help but notice that bokuto is beaming too and clapping the loudest. 

as the crowd starts to disperse, akaashi and bokuto join you again, ready to take you to your planned dinner. before you leave, bokuto says, “i was going to do this later but i can’t hold it in anymore, babe.” and he gets down on one knee with a ring box akaashi is all-too familiar with. 

sakusa kiyoomi ✶ reunited childhood sweethearts 

“try not to look so dour, sweetheart,” sakusa’s mother tells him as she fixes his tie. sakusa wants to grumble some choice words but he knows better than to complain to her. besides, he’s only partially paying attention, eyes darting about the crowd and back towards the venue’s entrance. 

he settles on adjusting his mask with a barely audible sigh and mumbles a quiet thanks as she flits to fuss over his older siblings. he glances again, disappointed as a different group of people waltzes in. he knows his older sister wouldn’t be so cruel as to lie to him that your family will be in attendance but the anxiety is making his antsy.

the two of you were inseparable as children with you being one of his only friends growing up.  you spent you days squirreled away in some nook reading or outside playing volleyball. your mothers always cooed that you two would get together one day, and as he got older and learned what that really meant, sakusa found himself hoping too. but then your parents took you and your siblings abroad, leaving him alone and heartbroken. he cut you off, hoping the distances and time would make your departure hurt less, but it didn’t.

sakusa doesn’t recognize the voice that calls his name but his head snaps towards the doorway. you’re standing in between your older sister and younger brother, waving at him. his heart skips a beat. your social media postings don’t do you enough justice; you’re even more attractive that the pixels he’s spent hours staring at. 

you still have that ever-present smile on your face and you quickly break-off from your family to bound over to him. without even thinking, his arms close around you as you embrace him tightly. you feel so familiar and he doesn’t want to let you go as you part. evidently, you don’t either as you keep him close still, only leaning away to look at him. “you’re so tall,” you laugh, more shyly you add, “and very handsome.”

this time, sakusa thinks his heart stops. 

[eccentricallygothic]

| Forbidden Fruit |

Description: Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. 

Pairing: Pedri | Naive Rodrygo's Gf!You. 

Disclaimer: This is merely a fanfic which does not represent anyone mentioned in any way. It contains mature content and morally grey themes so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact.  

Warning: Possible angst, infidelity (you), rough sex, unprotected p-in-v, Pedri is mean, doggy style, dirty talk, hair pulling, cunnilingus, Pedri’s beard, Pedri is morally grey, the Barca/La Masia boys are a bunch of meanies, minor exhibitionism, Daddy kink, minor spanking, hair pulling, deep throating. 

Note: I am an outrageous slut.

. 

It was supposed to be a harmless little term; a gesture of goodwill. 

The rivalry had gone on between the two clubs for too long. 

After careful deliberations and many dialogues, you were handpicked as the answer. 

The very private girlfriend of Rodrygo Goes who just happened to be one of the best English instructors available in the country as you had found employment in Spain since you didn't like to depend on others -like your dear boyfriend- too much. 

You.

Plain old little you; 

Gullible, naive, sweet, kind, helpful and passionate towards your profession. 

An attempt at peace, for good. 

Although your boyfriend and his club mates were dubious to let you go into the ‘enemy's’ den, you had innocently assured them that it was your duty as an instructor and that you would be fine since you were a big girl. 

… Until you walked through the doors of the room that had been made into a classroom for you and the relentless younger line like the La Masia boys had you teary-eyed under 10 minutes. 

And so you learnt the hard way that you weren't that big a girl after all.  

Hushed whispers, chuckles, taunts, snickers, anonymous yells and the like were thrown at you one after another. 

“You telling me this little girl will teach us English?” You looked around the many faces to see who it was but Gavi was so quick with his words that his mouth was motionless before you could locate him. 

“Go back to your pretty little white palace Princess!” Your bottom lip quivered as you looked at Fermin and felt betrayed since he had seemed nice enough when you had first entered. 

The laughing was the worst part.

They were loud, fast, cruel and overwhelming. 

Though every cell of your body made you want to rush out of the room, you tightened your laces and raised your chin up high before somehow managing through the rest of the session. 

That, and some kind interventions by the older players and Xavi, of course. 

It was only when you had jumped upon being approached by Pedri while waiting for your ride to arrive had you realized just how badly you still trembled even though the class had ended some long minutes ago. 

“You okay?” He was the only one who had remained completely silent during the entirety of the session, contributing to neither side and remaining aloof in a corner with his dark hawk-like gaze set on you. 

Though you had naively thought it the innocent stare of a student, you lived to learn it had been anything but. 

“Y- Yeah” as if on cue, your bottom lip sensitively wobbled again and Pedri's gaze didn't spare a minute flickering down to the movement. 

His Adam's apple bobbed as he silently gulped, wetting his mouth with his pink tongue as he let out a little sigh. “They're… Just… You… It's not…” One of his hands escaped the pockets of his sweatshirt to run over the back of his head. You quietly stared back with your brows raised curiously. “Don’t take them too seriously. They like to play around and sometimes they get real rough real fast” a small smile made its way onto your face. He felt responsible for them and was considerate of your feelings. “But it's not coming from a bad place, honest. They're just stupid kids is all” what a sweet guy, you thought. 

If only. 

You didn't know how it escaped your notice.

It wasn't like he didn't make it obvious. 

Always making it a point to visit you after sessions, staying with you until your driver arrived, seeing you off, sometimes leaning a bit too close or letting his friendly touch on your arm linger for a bit too long. 

But it was still all fun and games until one day he declared that he wanted to return the favor by teaching you some useful things in return. 

He had realized from the way you spoke of your relationship that you weren't much experienced and so you were sweetly content with whatever your tender lover gave you.

Of course, you panicked at first when you found yourself being backed against a table in a dark little storage room after you had skeptically agreed to the offer, whimpering next to the intimidating guy who always stared at you like a predator despite your friendship 

“Don't you want to learn how to make him feel good too? Or are you a selfish little girl who only wants to take and take but never give back?” Your bottom lip jutted out at his mean words. 

“O- Of course not!” You huffed, feeling the blood boil under your cheeks. “I am n- not like that! Who doesn't want to make their partner feel good?!” 

You weren't that stupid. 

You knew exactly what he was doing. 

And though you pretended to be outraged by the proposition at first, you were equally -if not more- excited to have his body on yours. 

So you let him teach you.

And boy, did the guy know how to fuck. 

His thick, hard and veiny cock felt hot and arousing in your fist that day as he nearly devoured your face with his mouth. 

Pedri took his sweet time with you by going one step at a time.

Carefully molding and shaping you according to his tastes to make of you the perfect little fucktoy. 

“Yeah, baby. Just like that, such a good girl” his voice would always deepen so dangerously low as he would often dip his head down so his warm lips would move against your ear. “Such a fast little learner, aren't you? So enthusiastic to learn how she can be good for her Daddy” that was the name he had chosen for himself since he couldn't be called your man.

You weren't sure if he even wanted to.

It was wrong. 

So, so fucking wrong. 

Unfair.

But it felt good. 

He felt good. 

Great. 

Immaculate.

Pedri taught you how to give, same as he taught you how to take.

“That’s a proper little girl right there” he grunted when he taught you how to ‘properly’ suck cock for the first time. “Just like that baby, tip that pretty little head back for Daddy” his manly hands that had gathered all your hair in a makeshift ponytail gently tugged you back to grant himself better access to your throat. “That's it,” though he was good at remaining calm and composed, you could hear the breathlessness in his voice. Your insides burnt hotter and you felt yourself clench, hollowing your cheeks as you curled your fingers around his muscular thighs while your other hand fondled his heavy ball sack. “You're a natural, aren't you, baby?” Your eyes filled with tears when you finally moved northwards and let the whole length of his cock disappear between your flushed, swollen lips.  

Your nostrils flared and your lungs churned for air, the lack of it causing your head to spin when Pedri didn't let up and instead began to give short and powerful thrusts to the fleshy channel of your slippery throat. Your head began to cloud and your thoughts started to float around just like his seed did everywhere in your oral cavity when he came. 

The internet people could say whatever they wanted. 

His beard and stubble eras were your personal favorite.

Because the coarse facial hairs felt so good against your tender skin. 

Like when Pedri once had you twisted outwards as your body writhed on the table of the storage room you had become well acquainted with at this point, legs trapped in his arms that he had looped around them to hold you firmly in place. 

The length of his devious tongue swiped across your worked up folds to lap at the mess you had made, beard digging into the soft skin of your inner thighs as the coarse hairs dragged against the junctions of your hips and legs every time his jaw flexed to eat you better. A loud moan forced its way past your reluctant lips when you felt a nerve twitch in one of your sides. 

“That's it, sweet girl. Just like that” your toes curled at the huskiness of his voice while your fingers tightened around his thick dark locks. “Let me hear those pretty moans” as if on cue, your body complied and your back arched even more when the pointy tip of his tongue prodded against your entrance. “That's it, baby. Tell me who is making you feel this good?” Your ears burnt hot as sweat trickled down one of your temples, heart heavily thumping in your chest. 

Though you were barely coherent, you knew better than to ignore his command. 

“Y- You are, Da– AH!” Your eyes widened and your palm slapped against your mouth in an attempt to stifle your delirious moans when he released one of your thighs only to intrude your tight little pussy with his fingers, the grainy muscle of his tongue toying with your clit all the while. 

“That's fucking right” he let out between slurps and sucks, occasionally making you jump and whine whenever you would get too quiet by landing a cruel spank directly onto your sensitive folds. 

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. 

You had always thought it no more than a harmless little proverb. 

Until you learnt its accuracy firsthand.

When you were pressed face down against the same table that had witnessed the entire affair of your infidelity to your lover one dark evening. Your arms were spread out wide besides you as one of your cheeks rubbed against the smooth wooden surface with each powerful thrust that was pounding its way into your leaking pussy. Your lips were parted and a small puddle of drool lay next to them as you lazily whined each time a spank was delivered onto one of your ass cheeks, your body violently shaking due to the speed at which his cock was pistoning in and out of you. 

Pedri had made you feel things no one ever had, there was no doubt about that. 

But the intensity with which your orgasm ripped itself out of you and you were nearly deprived of all your senses due to the immense pleasure when the door suddenly opened and Pedri wrapped his hand around your hair to pull your head upwards to make you face the person who nonchalantly stared at you with glossy eyes had your limbs trembling in what you could only describe as the best way you had ever known. 

You lost track of time as you mindlessly let yourself get fucked while staring directly at Rodrygo who had decided to receive you himself that day only to find you bent over for Pedri in a storage room. Sensuous groans and gasps were all you could let out as the faint realization -due to your dimmed faculties- of how this looked only made you clench harder. 

The visitor eventually left you two alone all to your nefarious activities with no words exchanged and the door closer allowed you privacy again until the man in charge decided he was done with you for the day. 

When upon finally coming to your senses you began to panic, your head was patted condescendingly in that peculiar manner of his. “That's not for you to worry your pretty little head about.” And then he fixed your disheveled outfit before taking you for himself. 

.

Man, I am so out of practice. 

[capquinn]

here i am yet again hope you’re not over me yapping in your inbox all the time

i think about quinn revealing the big news that he’s gonna be a dad to jack & luke, maybe he’d get them mugs or tshirts that say ‘uncle’ and it takes them a hot minute to put the pieces together 😭

oh my god it would be absolute chaos, but in the most brotherly way possible.

Picture this: they’re in town for a couple of nights because it’s tradition at this point — late-night card games, takeout from Quinn’s favourite spot, and banter so constant you can’t even keep up. But this time, you and Quinn have a little extra something planned, and of course, he thinks he’s a genius about it.

So, the night before, Quinn had pulled out two brand-new mugs from the cupboard, bold lettering on each one: World’s Greatest Uncle.

“They’ll get it immediately,” he’d assured you, his confidence solid. “It’s so obvious.”

Except, now, it’s breakfast, and things aren’t exactly going to plan.

Quinn places the mugs in front of them casually, setting Jack’s next to his plate of eggs and Luke’s beside his toast.

“Sorry,” he says, far too nonchalantly, “we’re out of clean mugs. You’ll have to use these.”

Jack picks his up, squinting at it.

“World’s greatest uncle?” he reads aloud, glancing at Luke. “Why do you even have these? Did one of your friends have a kid or something?”

Luke furrows his brow at his own mug, swallowing a bite of toast.

“Why are there two of them?” he asks. “You don’t even know that many people with kids.”

Jack laughs, shaking his head. “This is so random, dude,” he says, taking a sip from it like nothing is amiss.

Across the kitchen, Quinn sips his coffee, his expression unreadable except for the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. You bite back a laugh as Jack and Luke spiral into a completely unrelated tangent about Quinn’s supposed lack of kitchenware, but your gaze meets Quinn’s over your mug, and you know he’s thinking the same thing: how are they this dense?

It’s not until you and Quinn have retreated to the couch that the lightbulb finally flickers to life. From the kitchen, you hear the low murmur of Jack’s voice, a scrape of chairs, and then:

“Quinn?”

Quinn turns slightly on the couch, his arm resting along the back as he glances at them over his shoulder. Jack and Luke are standing there, mugs in hand, expressions somewhere between confused and dawning realisation. Jack holds his mug up like it’s a crucial piece of evidence in a high-stakes case, his brow furrowed deeply.

“Are you guys having a baby?” he says, his voice a little louder, eyes wide.

Quinn’s lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile forming as he leans back against the couch.

“Yep,” he says, his tone calm and easy, like he wasn’t just waiting for this exact moment.

Jack’s reaction is instant. The second the realisation hits, he’s shoving the mug into Luke’s hand, muttering a distracted, “hold this,” before practically vaulting over the back of the couch. He crashes into Quinn with a hug so forceful it nearly sends them both sprawling, his arms locking around Quinn like he’s trying to squeeze the news out of him all over again.

You can’t help but laugh, reaching out instinctively to steady them, your hand bracing Quinn’s shoulder as he struggles to keep his balance. Jack is grinning ear to ear, smacking Quinn on the back hard enough to make him wince.

“Holy shit, bro!” Jack exclaims, his voice booming with excitement. “This is huge! Congrats!”

Quinn huffs out a laugh, his arms coming up to return the hug, even though Jack is practically squeezing the air out of him.

“Thanks, Jack,” he says, his voice a mix of amusement and affection.

Luke, meanwhile, is still standing there with both mugs now, his brow furrowed in confusion as he processes what just happened. He glances between the mug, you, and his brothers like he’s replaying the moment in his head, trying to make sense of it.

Finally, he looks at you, his eyes wide.

“Wait, you’re serious?” he asks, his tone softer, tinged with awe. “You’re really having a baby?”

You nod, your grin widening as Luke’s expression shifts, the dawning realisation giving way to pure joy. He sets the mugs down carefully — because apparently, someone has to — and moves around the couch to wrap you in a hug.

“This is insane,” he says, his voice warm and full of excitement. “You’re gonna be parents. Holy shit. Quinn’s gonna be a dad.”

Jack pulls back, his grin turning mischievous as he claps Quinn’s shoulder.

“Better you than me, bro,” he says with a laugh.

Quinn rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t falter.

“Yeah, thanks, Jack,” he says, the dryness in his tone failing to mask the warmth underneath.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

"I'll text Stiles," Scott says, grabbing his backpack. "Then I'm gonna go see Allison.”

When Scott turns back around, Derek's lips are a thin line and they are the only part of him that moves when he asks, through his teeth, "Are you going to talk to her, too?”

Scott just squints. Because—huh? 

"Derek, what do you mean, am I going to talk to her, too?” He narrows his eyes even more, suspicious. “Why else would I be going to see Allison, if not to talk to her? I don't just, like, watch her from afar like some creeper, you know." 

Scott isn't about to admit that he has, embarrassingly, done just that on occasion. Alright, occasions, plural—but only once or twice! Five or six times, tops. And only ever when he thought Allison was, or could possibly be, in danger. It's not weird, though. It's not! It's noble, okay? It just sounds weird when you say it out loud. Even if he hasn't actually said it out loud. Well, at least not just now anyways; he's said it in front of the mirror a couple times and it turns out your reflection can be pretty hurtful and judgemental which, honestly, is a little upsetting.  

Just as Scott realises that Derek must know he just told a lie—half-lie!—the Alpha's face does a thing that Scott has never seen it do before. Ever. The dude looks almost… Human. 

And, what the hell? 

Derek clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to the other and worries at his bottom lip a bit and now Scott is feeling anxious because who is this guy? And what has he done with Derek ‘I Will Never Give A Single Thing Away About Myself Ever Other Than The Fact I Am Eternally Pissed’ Hale? (that's one of Stiles's). 

Just the possibility of Derek ‘Emotionally Open and Vulnerable’ Hale is, like—it's just way too much for Scott to handle on a Sunday morning when he's supposed to be at the veterinary surgery in less than fourteen minute's time and has to somehow manage fitting in seeing Allison on the way.

But it seems Scott is also too nosy to just move on from this and let sleeping dogs lie. And both of those things are really annoying because strange old phrases and being overly curious is usually a Stiles thing, not a Scott thing, so Scott really doesn't know what he's supposed to do! 

W.W.S.D. 

What Would Stiles Do?

"Um, Derek, have you been—"

"Firstly, McCall, following somebody around and watching them from a distance is not creepy if you think that they need to be tailed for their own safety, alright?" Derek starts and—well.

Exactly!

Scott actually genuinely likes Derek, for just a moment, because he knew he'd been right about that! He gives himself an internal high-five and an imaginary congratulatory pat on the back because being kind to yourself is never a bad option. Unfortunately, Scott now also has to admit to himself that it does, in fact, sound weird when you say it out loud. Or, well, think it out loud. Whatever, he knows what he means.

He realises that Derek is still speaking.

"...because Stiles is human and also the biggest danger-magnet in the pack, so it makes sense that one of us should be keeping tabs on him. Thirdly, I—“ 

“Someone, Derek!” Scott blurts, “I was going to ask if you've been creeping on someone!" he interrupts because—honestly, in the most way possible—what?! The hell?!

Scott is both stunned and annoyed at hearing that Derek has been following Stiles (hiding around dark corners and slinking about the place like a wolf ninja. Scott should know. Shut up.) 

Because Stiles! Is Scott's best friend! 

And, like, how long has he been doing this? And for what purpose, really? Because Derek's heart just skipped about twelve beats, never mind one, so reason number two was obviously at least a half-lie of his own. 

That's when Derek's mouth clacks audibly shut. 

Scott just stares. And he knows; there is more going on here than meets the eye.

Then it's obvious that Derek knows that Scott knows and then everybody is knowing and looking and looking and knowing and Scott just—he can't stand it, okay? He needs confirmation. He doesn't necessarily want it, but it's like his mom always says: Life's tough sometimes. 

Eventually, he manages to say, "Are you stalking Stiles, Derek?" and hopes to hell he's wrong because he now feels somewhere in between being affronted on his best friend's behalf, totally grossed-out because it's Derek, ugh, and maybe just a little bit amused. Or is it bemused? Possibly confused. Scott is definitely some of those words. 

And again, seriously, what the hell?  

Has Derek honestly been creeping on Stiles because he's concerned for Stiles's safety? And, if so, why? Like, does Derek even get concerned for humans? Or other wolves for that matter (apart from maybe his own betas which is probably only a biological thing anyway, Scott reckons). Does Derek care about anybody? At all? Dude doesn't even care about himself, Scott doesn't think.

Scott now tries his best to come up with another reason, any other possible reason, that someone might have to follow a person around, but he can't seem to land on—OH, GOD! DOES DEREK HAVE A CRUSH ON STILES? Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He can't. But he—nope. No! Because what. The actual. Hell! He just—no. No, no, no. He can't! Can he? Oh, my God, what if he does?! And if it is true... ew! Derek Hale crushing is just gross! And on Stiles?! Just, no. But also, why? And also-also, how the hell did Scott not notice something sooner?! 

And another thing: Did Scott somehow wake up this morning having somehow travelled in his sleep to one of those Affirmative Universe places that Stiles is always banging on about?

Man, Scott has, like, so many questions. 

Derek still hasn't said anything and is just standing opposite Scott with his stupid arms folded across his stupid chest with his stupid beard in his stupid loft looking really, really stupidly sheepish, and Scott thinks, yep.

Affirmative Universe. 

He doesn't know what to do and Stiles isn't here to ask, so he waves a confused (and maybe amused and bemused) arm in the air and says, “Derek, what the hell is going on? Have we travelled to an Affirmative Universe or something, because—”  

“Don't you mean Alternative Universe?”  

“—you never just, I don't know, don't throw something offensive or at least defensive back at me when I'm talking to you about Stiles. Or, you know, anybody else. Or anything else, come to think of it!”   

Derek now looks, for real, actually scared.

And Scott? Well, Scott is now officially terrified.  

His phone starts ringing and, as it's already in his hand, he just answers it without looking, eyes still fixed on Derek The Imposter. 

“Yooooo, amigo, what's the plan?” 

It's Stiles. Of course it's Stiles. 

Stiles is on the phone and Derek Hale might-probably-definitely have a crush on him, and Scott may or may not be in an Affirmative Universe but can't know for sure and can no longer speak or think or breathe.

“Uh, Scottie? Scottland? Sir Scott-A-Lot? You there, ol’buddy, ol’pal?” 

Derek can obviously hear who is on the other end of the phone. He looks positively constipated, his brows knitting together even tighter than before, tighter than ever before, and his lethal jaw is ticking away like it's being controlled by the World Clock in Berlin that Scott learned about in middle school.

Scott sighs, heavy, like he's seventy years old instead of seventeen.

Derek is now giving his best version of Scott's own speciality Puppy Dog Eyes (something Stiles and Allison always accuse him of), with a definite flavour of please, don't tell…

And Scott wants to cry. Like a baby. Like, throw himself onto the floor and scream and shout and kick his feet in the air. 

Instead, he grits his teeth together like the mature person he is, feeling very firmly smooshed between a best friend-shaped rock and a werewolf-scented hard place. 

Ugh, his life is just so unfair!

He mouths YOU OWE ME to Derek, and Derek's whole body visibly sags with relief. 

Then he takes a deep breath and answers Stiles—who is now chanting ScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottie down the phone—with, “Dude, shut up and listen, will you! I think we might have a very real problem with Affirmative Universes!”

[cherriesformatt]

obvious || matt sturniolo

mattxfem!reader

summary: basically the requests

warnings: fluff

word count: 1,3k

a/n: I tried my best with that requests! Again I thought combining this two would be great I hope that is okay! I know it took a long time and also I am sorry if I am not writing your requests so often! If I am not that means I am either not comfortable with writing it or i already did it in some way before. Hope everyone is good! Thanks for 552 followers thats craaaaaaazy!!!

🍒

"I think you're drooling a little y/n" I heard and it made my look away from the ice.

"I do not know what you're talking about Nick" I mumbled and started to tie my skates.

Nick only rolled his eyes on me and sat down next to me already changed from his uniform. Nick was my best friend and he and his two triplets brothers were playing in the hockey team. Chris and Matt also were my friends but I met Nick first back in the elementary school. We kinda all sticked together and were in the same friends group ever since.

I was figure skating and my practice was right after theirs on the school ice ring. I always came early to change and look at them practice. Or well...look at Matt.

At the beginning of high school I developed a huge crush on him that apparently everyone and their mothers though is was so obvious. Not to Matt tho. He never did anything towards me to show he likes me more than a friend. I would never have balls to do it first especially if it had possibility of ruining our friendship.

"Please....when are you going to tell him? It's almost prom time... are you going to suffer again because he will be asked to go by someone else? And it is our last prom..."Nick said looking down at me.

I sighed and finished my skated and stood up from the bench. The stupid rule we had in this school was that girls were supposed to ask boys to prom.

"Nick... I had a very shitty day and I do not wish to speak about this now. I am going to warm up. Bye hope you guys had a good practice. I will see you later" I said and took my sweater of and put my AirPods in.

I skated away from him and started to warm up in the corner. I did runaway from this conversation because it was not on my list today. I had a very stressful day and it was about to get better because I could get lost in music and ice.

I was glad Chris did not came to great me because he probably would make his comments and made me nervous for Matt to hear them.

I looked at him wondering why he is still on ice. He looked mad and he was hitting puck after puck to the empty net.

There was no one else here now. Nick left and the other people too. I had my practice by myself today because my coach was sick.

"Hi..." I said skating closer to him and turning down my music.

"Oh...y/n hi. I am sorry I'm still here. I was going to ask you if it's fine for me to take one corner? I had a shitty practice and I wanna work on it" He said looking at me.

He was a good player. Furious but good. So I do not know where is this coming from.

" Sure...I do nit mind. Everything okay?"I asked looking at his blue eyes. Eyes that I could think about for hours.

"I just had a very shitty day and thats all" He said.

"Tell me about it...."I laughed because we usually had a very similar mood.

"Mondays, huh?" He smiled at me and I nodded.

I smiled and took one of AirPods out and offered to him.

"Wanna listen to my happy playlist?" I smiled and he took it and took his helmet off to put it in and put his helmet back on.

"Of course you have a happy playlist..."He shook his head at me and I smiled and pressed play.

We just started to do our things and just took little glances at each-other when the songs we both well knew started to play. And let me tell you. My happy playlist was a very dirty rap and trap playlist so seeing Matt laugh at that made my evening.

"You're impossible kid, you know?" He said skating to me while I just landed from my jump.

"I do not know what you're talking about" I smiled and fixed my dress.

"Here... I need to go but that was nice... thanks for sharing" He said and gave me back my AirPod.

"Hope it made you feel a little better" I said taking it back and he just smiled and fixed his hair. It made butterflies in my stomach go wild.

"Bye y/n.... the new dress looks great on you... I love how you're all white while I'm all black" He said just before getting out of the ring and walked to the lockers.

What the fuck.

He loved that we matched? Or whatever that was. I need to seat down.

I couldn't think straight anymore so I finished my practice and went to seat down. Just as I sat down I got massage from Chris.

And they were not meant for me.

Oh my god.

That means… He liked me back? And he knew all this time?

I felt like having panic attack when I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the ring.

In the moment of when I wanted to push the doors there opened and my eyes met his.

“y/n…. I” he started when our eyes locked.

"I thought you left..." I said. I did not know what to do with myself. I was nervous and relived and exited and felt like passing out in the same time.

My heart felt like it would jump out of my chest any minute.

"I was in the car...but then..this stupid motherfucker...I swear..."Matt said and I laughed nervously.

"You knew? You knew this all time that I liked you more than a friend?" I asked looking at him nervously hugging my bag.

"I honestly I did not....I overheard your conversation with Nick...and than I told him how I feel. Chris might be stupid but he was right....I was a coward for not telling you... but it so.. o.."

"Overwhelming and scary? I know..." I interrupted him.

"But I do....I do like you back... more than a friend. You have been nothing but my escape since the begging of the year and I cannot keep this to myself. Not anymore" He said.

All I wanted do now was just to finally kiss him. I do not know where I found the courage to do so but the moment I let go of my bag I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Perhaps we should thank Chris..."I quietly said before I closed the space between us with a sweet kiss.

He was surprised with my actions but he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer.

"You do not know for how long I wanted to do that..."He whispered when we moved away.

"I actually do...." I said and smiled and brushed some hair away from his forehead.

"Let me walk you to your car?" He looked at me.

I nodded and he took my bag. When we got to my car he stole one more kiss from my lips.

"So...would you like to go out with me?"He asked.

"As..."

"As my girlfriend?" He finished my sentence and I couldn't believe this was real.

"Only if you go to prom with me as my boyfriend?" I asked nervously biting the inside of my cheek.

"Of course I will..." He smiled and I swear he blushed a little.

"Then yes from me as well....and Matt?"I smiled at him.

"Yes?"

"Do not yell at Chris... he did us a favor honestly for real" I laughed.

"I know, I know... I will try my best" He smiled and walked away to his car.

I think I sat in my car for good 15 minutes and just smiled to myself before I left home and had 30 minutes face time call with Nick about this evening.

When shitty day turned to be the best day of my life.

[spatialwave]

V's All That

Chapter 1 || The Bet

➥ Summary: Jayce Talis, the school's golden boy and a guaranteed pick for Prom King, seems to have it all—looks, charm, and popularity. However, when Kino presents him with the opportunity to win back Mel, his ex-girlfriend and the one who got away, Jayce jumps at the chance. The challenge? To transform Viktor, a snarky outcast who is as far from popular as possible, into Prom King instead. Jayce takes the bait, but he may have taken on more than he can handle. ➥ Word Count: 2.6k ➥ Pairing: Jayce Talis x Viktor || Arcane

🧡 beta'd by @spxllcxstxr 🩷 art by @wapimostosis 🧡 available on ao3

part 2. ->

The sun was high on Monday afternoon, illuminating everyone in the courtyard in bright light that warmed the skin. Spring Break was now a memory of the past, and the only thought looming above everyone’s heads were prom and graduation—the final milestones of a senior’s life.

Especially sought after by the popular kids. Their final night of royalty before they were shot into adulthood.

For Jayce Talis, this was everything. 

Football quarterback, soccer captain, class president and the obvious vote for Prom King.

It wasn’t easy being as popular as Jayce Talis. One had to be confident, charismatic, and, obviously, attractive. He basked in the glow of his rank atop the social ladder, eyes closed as he laid back atop one of the picnic tables in the courtyard that had been swallowed up by the sun. His arms rested behind his head, and his varsity jacket was discarded to the side, so he was clad in only a sleeveless tee and jeans.

A quick tan as the final minutes of school wrapped up, lucky enough to have a free final period. Why he didn’t leave? Who would want to leave school when everyone loved you?

Jayce’s close friend, Kino, sat next to him and toyed with a football in his hands. His eyes flickered around as students sat amongst each other and chatted, giggles and chatter filling his mind. The attention of all nearby girls settled on Jayce, who ensured his skin was perfectly sun-kissed.

A snort bubbled up from Kino’s chest, tucking the leather ball into his elbow, “You know, it’s kind of cute how everyone thinks you’re a lock for Prom King,” he murmured, noticing the way two freshman girls walked by and giggled as Jayce sat up, arms stretched above his head. Muscles perfectly contoured as he flexed.

“I am a lock for Prom King,” Jayce retorted, pushing the sunglasses he’d been wearing to the top of his head. His golden hazel eyes settled on his friend. “It’s not even a challenge.”

There was only truth in that statement: once nominated, no one could take the highly-sought crown from him. It was the status quo – how things were supposed to go. Popular boys won Prom King. And Jayce? 

He was the popular boy.

Kino gave a dry chuckle, the smirk on his lips only growing, “You think it’s just your charm, huh? All you?”

Jayce’s eyes narrowed slightly, his curiosity piquing. “Well, yeah,” he scoffed, his nose crinkling as he waited for his friend to delve further into his ramblings.

“It goes beyond just you, man; I don’t know,” Kino dragged on, licking over his teeth as an idea sprung in his head. One with malicious intent, “You think you have everyone at this school wrapped around your finger… like they’d vote for whoever you told them to vote for.”

“What’s your point?” The question lingered, confusion settling in Jayce’s head.

“Prove it.”

Jayce was stunned momentarily, “Prove what?”

Kino grinned toothily, “You really think you’re all that? I bet you can’t make someone else Prom King–someone completely off the radar. I’m talking a real outcast.”

Jayce chuckled, pushing his sunglasses back onto his nose and leaning back on his hands, “Is that supposed to be some kind of challenge? Man, I already am the winner. Why would I care about helping some random person take the title from me? You’re insane.”

Kino shrugged, hands twisting the ball within his hands again, eyes focused on it, “Because, let’s be honest here, Jayce… there’s a part of you that’s too comfortable with this, and what’s the fun of that?”

“You’re delusional.”

“You don’t think you could do it?”

“I could,” Jayce bit back at him, his pride on the line, “I just don’t see the point. What do I get out of this?”

“I’ll talk with Mel,” Kino added smoothly, uncaring to even look at his friend.

Jayce’s heart dropped and twisted in his chest like a sharp knife. Mel Medarda, Kino’s younger sister, but more importantly – the girl of his dreams. The one who broke up with him just before spring break after a year of going steady. He hadn’t expected to hear her name in the conversation, but he’d be damned if it didn’t make him curious and eager.

Kino knew this game was dangerous for Jayce, so he went for it. How could life be exciting if there wasn’t a sprinkling of drama?

“You’re bluffing,” Jayce turned himself away, slipping his jacket back on, “there’s no way she’d give me–”

“Dude. I can make it happen… if you think you can.”

Jayce hesitated, the cards dealt to him making his stomach twist uncomfortably. A second chance with Mel was like a lifeline, a reason to keep going. God, he missed her.

But making some outcast Prom King? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea–like trying to force a square peg into a round hole. 

Still, Jayce wasn’t one to back out from a challenge. Not when the deal was so goddamn sweet.

“Fine,” he tilted his head back, inhaling a sharp breath, “easy enough.”

“My man,” Kino grinned, extending a large hand to give his friend a few pats on the back. “I knew you still had some left in you.”

Jayce rolled his eyes, discarding his sunglasses into the backpack he strung over his right shoulder and pushing himself off the table. “What happens if I lose? That’s a big ‘if,’ by the way.”

“I’ll figure something out. It won’t be good,” he chuckled low, his eyes flickering around the schoolyard with mischief flickering through his dark orbs. “I think it’s time we go shopping.”

Jayce’s stomach twisted as they wandered around the courtyard and the exterior school halls. The chiming of the final bell coincided with a rush of students swarming around, excited to get home after the first day back from spring break. His fingers gripped onto the strap of his bag, his hazel eyes flickering around.

“Man,” Kino whistled, spinning on his heels as a young freshman with taped glasses walked past him, “Too bad we said prom king. These geeks in their freshman year are too goddamn good… impossible to fix.”

“Nah, man,” Jayce rolled his eyes, “You get that kid in the right clothes and take off those glasses, and it’s a done deal. " His eyes followed the young boy.

“You’re too confident,” he replied, nudging Jayce’s side with a sharp elbow, “It’s more than just looks for the dudes, my man. With chicks, it’s easy to get them in a good push-up bra, makeup and slutty clothes—“

“Oh, really now?” Jayce chided.

“Yes, really,” Kino stopped his footing, holding a finger out as he pointed to a guy just down the hall. Nerdy with textbooks clutched against his chest, “See?”

As if on cue, the boy was shoved by one of their peers on the football team. The guys laughed when he fell, and his textbooks flew across the pavement of the exterior halls—a quiet, pathetic groan coming from him.

Jayce’s jaw tightened as he watched the boy scramble to gather his fallen textbooks, the football players laughing as they walked away. It was a familiar scene—one Jayce had witnessed a hundred times but never intervened in. 

“You can’t fix awkward with a change of clothes,” Kino said, gesturing to the poor guy still fumbling on the ground.

Jayce sighed, running a hand through his hair. Kino was probably right, but the bet began to feel like a mistake. The nerves were beginning to rise in the back of his throat like bile, twisting his stomach uncomfortably.

“You’re not getting off easy on this one,” Kino hummed, eyes darting around, “if you want to prove you can turn anyone into prom king, you’ve got to start at the absolute bottom. And there—” he jabbed a finger toward a figure across the courtyard—“is your guy.”

Jayce followed Kino’s gaze, and his stomach sank when he saw who he was pointing at. A slender guy walking slowly along the edge of the lawn, his head slightly bowed and wearing cheaply made headphones that wrapped around the back of his head. He leaned heavily on a cane with every step, his uneven gait making him stand out. His messy brown hair hung over his forehead, and he wore an old Deftones shirt that looked like it had been well-worn.

“Viktor,” Kino announced wickedly. “He’s perfect.”

Jayce groaned, shaking his head at the mere prospect of Viktor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Chances of winning were looking slimmer with each passing second.

“Nope.” Kino crossed his arms, his grin widening. “Think about it. Total loner. Walks like he’s 80. Probably spends his weekends building robots in his basement or something. There’s no way anyone’s going to vote for him, no matter what you do.”

Jayce kept watching Viktor, who had stopped to adjust the strap of his book bag. The guy wasn’t exactly ugly—his features were sharp, but in a way that made him seem more intimidating than approachable. There was something about the dark circles under his eyes and the perpetual scowl on his face that screamed, ‘Don’t talk to me.’

“C’mon, Jayce,” Kino pressed, “you said you could do it, right? Doesn’t matter who it is. Unless you’re backing out already…”

Jayce bit his cheek, fighting the urge to snap back. Kino was doing this on purpose; he knew that. Picking someone like Viktor wasn’t just about making the challenge harder—it was about watching him squirm.

“Fine,” Jayce said finally, his voice low. “I’ll do it. But don’t think for a second that I’m going to lose.”

Kino’s grin turned predatory. “Good. Go on, man. Let’s see what you can do.”

Jayce’s eyes widened, landing on his friend as panic settled in his gut. “Now?”

Kino answered with a rough shove against his shoulder, enough force to cause him to stumble forward several steps. Jayce caught himself easily, his hazel eyes staring ahead as he kept walking smoothly toward Viktor, who was still struggling with the strap that dared to unravel from its clip.

“You got this,” he murmured encouragingly, chest puffing out as a smile graced his lips. 

Jayce stopped shy of two steps away from Viktor, hand tight over the strap of his bag and squeezing the fabric. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared down as the student sighed in relief, nimble hands clasping the strap snugly.

“Hi, Viktor,” he blurted out calmly, breaking the ice between them. His palms were sweaty as his hand nearly slipped down the strap over his shoulder and needed to readjust. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

There was no response for a few beats, leaving Jayce standing still and staring—wondering whether he should tap on his shoulder or step before him.

Then, a pair of amber eyes flashed up, meeting Jayce’s. There was a deafening silence between the two, quiet enough that all Jayce could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. His heart rate skyrocketed. 

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous.

Viktor, however, broke eye contact first, eyes dashing around their immediate surroundings as they stood off to the side of the courtyard. Of course, the entire student body seemed to think the same thing as they stared at them—they were horribly nosy.

It was a chorus of the same thought: ‘What the hell does Jayce Talis want with… him?’

Viktor shifted his weight onto his cane, lifting a slender hand to tug down the flimsy headphones that had been perched on his head, letting them settle around his pale neck. His tired eyes settled back on the football quarterback, annoyance flickering through him.

“Can I help you?” He asked, voice edged with impatience.

Jayce perked up, caught off guard by the thick accent that rolled from Viktor’s lips. He’d never paid enough attention to him to notice.

He parted his lips to speak, moving them through a bit of silent stuttering until he caught his words, “Yeah, uh—” he glanced over his shoulder to spot Kino, who was whistling to himself and pretending to keep his attention elsewhere. He could see the corners of his lips curling up into a shit-eating smirk he was fighting off.

What a tool.

Turning back to meet Viktor’s sharp gaze, he quickly recovered and flashed a charismatic smile, in typical Jayce fashion, “You’re good with chemistry, right?”

“Depends,” Viktor answered sharply, words cutting through the air between them. He bit his cheek to keep himself from saying anything more, suppressing the urge to let sarcasm take the forefront of the conversation. He didn’t have time for whatever this was. Some sort of sick joke—at his expense, no less.

“Oh, well,“ Jayce chuckled lightly, treading the growing tension carefully, “you seem like the kind of guy who is good with it. I’ve never seen you struggle in class.”

Viktor’s brows furrowed together in confusion. What did Jayce Talis know about him? He didn’t pay attention to him, right?

“I’m surprised you know that I’m in your class.” His tone was harsh, coated in disdain.

An awkward chuckle bubbled up from Jayce’s throat, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he looked between those golden eyes that pierced through him like daggers. He inhaled a sharp breath, maintaining his calm facade, different from the storm in his mind.

“I was wondering if you could help me out,” Jayce continued, eyes momentarily dropping to the faded graphic on Viktor’s shirt that had seen better days, “I’ve been struggling wi—“

“No.”

Jayce Talis was stunned into silence, blinking in disbelief as Viktor tore himself away from the conversation and began to walk away. The end of his well-worn cane tapped rhythmically along the pavement, limp evident in his walk as he attempted to hurry off. Though, he didn’t quite have the luxury of escaping when Jayce caught up with a few steps.

“No?” Jayce said incredulously, letting out a breathless chuckle as if half-expecting Viktor to twist back around and laugh with him. Tell him that it was just a poor attempt at a joke and that he’d help him. 

After all, who wouldn’t want to help Jayce?

“I said no,” Viktor frowned, straightening up when Jayce stepped directly into his path, forcing him to pause his grand escape, “I’m certain you have others who would be of better assistance.”

“But I’d really appreciate your help.”

“I don’t want to help you.”

With that, Jayce was met with a hard shove against his shoulder as Viktor strode past him. It was hardly hard enough to make him lose his footing but enough impact to strengthen his firm answer.

There was no way in hell Viktor would help Jayce with chemistry. 

Spinning on his feet, Jayce watched as Viktor continued, meeting paths with a familiar-looking girl. She wore rounded glasses that accentuated her features and had curled hair pulled back tightly—brown eyes flickered in his direction before her attention turned to her friend as they approached the student parking lot.

Jayce couldn’t remember her name, but that was the least of his concerns. Not when he stood in the dust, watching as the man he’d been challenged to help brushed him off like he was nothing. Having never felt so insignificant.

“Christ,” Jayce groaned, looking back at Kino and taking note of the gallery of students who pretended they hadn’t been watching the exchange. The courtyard buzzed back to life, eyes tugging away from him.

“Holy shit,” Kino barked out a laugh, hurrying to Jayce’s side as he watched their victim turn a corner and leave their line of sight. A heavy hand patted his back several times, earning a few low grunts, “What did you say about not losing? Looking rough for you out here, King Talis.”

“Screw you,” Jayce grumbled, smacking Kino’s hand away from him in frustration, “This doesn’t mean I lose. I’ll figure it out.”

Kino shook his head, laughter rumbling from his chest, “You poor fucking soul.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my first multi-chapter JayVik series! Writing this has been a blast, and I'm excited to get more chapters out, and will update each post with links to easily jump between each part! A huge thank you to Jaclyn, who has graciously offered her time to beta this fic for me, and to Wapi, whose art has transformed this fic into something truly beautiful.🧡

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

[maineventbts]

The Boy Is Mine

pairing: jey uso x oc

word count: 2.1k

warnings: cursing , some innuendoes at the end , that’s pretty much it.

note: i haven’t written anything in a while , im just testing the waters. pls be kind <3

It was Monday, meaning you were walking into the arena for tonight's show. Typically, you enjoyed coming to work; you had the best job in the world. However, this was the last place you wanted to be today. Your silver suitcase was rolling behind you as your best friend power walked to keep up with your quick strides. Your goal was to reach your destination as quickly as possible, avoiding as much contact as you could. You greeted some staff and fellow coworkers before rushing into the female locker room. Holding the door open for your friend, as she gives you a side eye on her way into the room. "What is wrong with you? You need to slow the fuck down," Nia said with her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath.

You refused to tell her the reason for your speed walking into the arena. In your mind, the reasoning made you sound like a high schooler, and you were grown as hell. You and your longtime friend, who happens to be Nia's cousin, were going through a rough patch. You and Josh were not just typical friends; you were practically in love with each other. You couldn't get enough of each other from the day you first met. Sitting together in catering, riding to shows together, even having him hold your purse sometimes. You two even shared many steamy moments in private. No one ever questioned your closeness until a new person was added to the mix. Newer talent, Nikita, the Bane of your existence. Because you and Josh were not an official item, he was fair game for anyone. However, you were ready to go to bat for that man, like he put a ring on your finger.

"Hello? Girl, you almost killed me; this better not be about Josh again." Nia shakes your shoulders, pulling you from your daze. You playfully smack her hands off of your body, "my bad, I'm just a little tired today." Not believing your excuse, Nia opens her mouth, preparing to remind you of your busy day. "And I know we have a tag match tonight, I'll be focused," you beat her to the punch.

After setting up your space in the locker room, you and some of the other women head to catering. You've only had a matcha latte today, and if you didn't eat anything soon, your body would give up. Thankfully, there is always a diverse spread of delicious food, so you never have to worry about going hungry. You grab a Gatorade and pack your plate with three tacos and rice. As soon as you sit down with Nia and Naomi, you notice Naomi's continuous glances at you. "Yes, Naomi," you say, already knowing what was about to come next.

"Why are you ignoring that man," referring to her brother-in-law, Josh. Unsurprisingly, he told his twin brother Jon, who definitely told Trinity. You poke at the food on your plate before looking up at the girls, "I'm not ignoring hi-," Trinity put her hand up, not wanting to hear whatever bullshit you were about to spew. "I literally watch you speed walk past him at every show. And he won't stop calling me and Jon to see what's wrong with you." It was obvious that Trinity wanted to help you both, but you wanted to avoid being lectured by your friends. "He out here entertaining other bitches, what am I supposed to do," your words came out in a whisper in an attempt to keep your fellow workers out of your business.

You’ve been talking about Josh too much because he comes around the corner like Beetlejuice. In an instant, your head is down, and you begin eating your food, praying that he'll ignore you. His eyes are on you instantly, but to your surprise, he doesn't approach you. Instead, he sits down with Xavier and Kofi, at the table beside you. Your back was toward him, but Nia's constant looks in his direction weren't helping your paranoia. "Stop looking over there," you mouth to her, causing her to look down at her plate.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, Bane arrives here to ruin your day. "What up Nikita," you hear Xavier greet the girl, who takes a seat at their table. Your jaw tightens, and your grip on your fork is deadly. Her presence makes you want to flip every table in the room and slap the taste out of her mouth. "I'm liking the little blue in the back, Josh; did you just dye it?" just the sound of her voice raises your body temperature. Smoke is practically barreling out of your ears as you try to remain calm. His hair color is none of her business, and why didn't he tell you about it? Your mind is racing so fast that you don't notice Trinity and Nia's concerned facial expressions. If you didn't leave this table now, Nikita would be laid out on it. Gathering your trash and personal items, you get up from the table and get away from catering as quick as possible. Little did you know, Joshua was staring at you the entire time with puppy dog eyes, praying that you'd look his way.

Back in the locker room, you begin to prep for your match. Earbuds snug in your ears as you riffle through your suitcase, trying to find the best gear to wear. After a swift search, you pull out one of your strategically distressed t-shirts, trunks, and kickpads. You change in one of the stalls and throw on your black boots. "You want to look like me so bad," Nia lets out a laugh as you both come out of the stalls wearing the same colors. The show had already started, and it was time for you two to get in the makeup chair.

"Do you want to go with a neutral type of look tonight," Melinda, one of the makeup artist, always asked what you wanted before she worked her magic. You went with the neutrals, and so did Nia. You and the girls are enjoying small talk as she puts the finishing touches on your face. "Y/N," your body instantly tensed up, and you refused to look away from the girl in front of you. Nia instantly looked away and continued to chat with the other girls. "Girl, i know you did not," you mutter, shocked that she'd leave you to deal with this alone.

"Yes, Josh," you fight the urge to face him, trying to stay strong. If you looked that man in the eyes, you just might let everything go and fold. "Can we go somewhere and talk," he moves to stand before you, not allowing you to avoid him any longer. "I'm getting my makeup done," you quickly respond, hoping to excuse yourself from the situation. "Actually, you're all done now," Melinda pats your shoulder as she ushers you to get out of the chair. Your eyes widen as you've just been thrown to a wolf by your favorite makeup artist. You thank the woman, realizing that you can't hide anymore. "Come on," you tilt your head towards the far end of the hall, which happens to be empty.

"Why you ignoring me," Joshua jumps straight to the point, looking down on you. His body looks tense as he folds his hands in front of him. It was beyond evident that he was just as nervous as you were, if not more. "We been friends for years, you know you my girl," you could hear the hurt in his voice, and it completely shattered your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt Josh, but you were hurting too. "If I'm your girl, why are you flirting with other bitches? It's supposed to be me and you, Joshua; this is not a group thing." You could hardly hold eye contact with him anymore; his eyes looked angry and apologetic, while you looked like you were about to burst into tears.

He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Ain't nobody flirting with nobody. She just follows me and the guys around sometimes, you need to stop trippin-"you smack his hand away from your face. How dare he accuse you of being dramatic. "I need to stop trippin? You won't even let Dolph sit next to me anymore. Anybody gets friendly with me, and you get upset, but I can't be mad at you for getting fresh with someone that ain't me," no longer were you scared to look at him; you were practically fuming. Head cocked to the side with your arms crossed over your chest, "you're so fucking backwards, Josh. If you wanna flirt with other people, if you want to fuck with other people, go ahead!" The two of you sat in silence for a moment, unsure of what even happened. He clenched his jaw, as you tried your best to hold back the flood that was ready to fall from your eyes.

"Fuck you, Josh. I'm so fucking done with you," you turn away from him, not wanting to waste any more of your time on someone who wasn't truly committed to you. Head hanging low as you speed past everyone in the hall. Joshua watches you walk away from him, knowing that you need some time to cool off. Though you might not understand now, he loves you more than anything else in this world, and he wouldn't let you walk out of his life that easily.

The rest of your evening was bearable. You won your tag match with Nia but had to go up against the one person you wanted to strangle. Luckily for you, Josh was nowhere to be found; now it was time to get the hell out of there before he magically appeared again. You and Nia were outside, waiting for Saraya to bring the car around. Sitting on your suitcase with your earbuds in, this was the most peace you had gotten all day.

As Saraya pulls up in front of you, a hand drapes over your shoulder. You recognized that soft yet heavy hand anywhere. "What do you want Josh," your words come out very monotonous as you pull the earbuds from your ears. "You riding with me tonight," his words sounding more like a statement than a question. You shrug his hand off of your shoulder before rising from your seat. "No, I'm going with the girls to-” before you could finish your sentence, Joshua is holding your suitcase along with his, "you gon' stop running from me. You know just how much I love you, even though we haven't made anything official, I've made it more than clear that you my number one." Before you can get a word out, he continues, "I shouldn't have let her get that close to me; that's my fault entirely. But never once did I feed into her advances or little flirtatious behavior. I'm not checking for anybody that's not you, ma," with every word he says, you feel your face get hotter. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but you didn’t think that he’d profess his love for you outside the arena.

"I know we ain't made nothing official or anything, but I wanna change that. I don't want no one thinking they got a chance with you, and I know you don't want that either." Joshua advances towards you, letting go of the suitcase handles. Hands slowly wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to his body, "be my girl, officially." You couldn’t resist it anymore, the last thing you wanted was to keep fighting with Josh. Your hand comes up to the back of his head, strands of his blue hair through your fingers, "I'd like that very much," your words come out softly as you feel your face burning. His eyes were scanning all over your body like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. You couldn’t lie, you did get some new braids in and did your makeup a bit different lately, hoping he would notice. He wasn’t the only one staring, you found yourself drooling over his tattooed arms and the shine from his grill. It’s been a minute since y’all got together and you needed him now.

"Kiss her! Be a man," you hear Saraya and Nia yelling from the car, you completely forgot that they were waiting on you. Leaning down, Joshua carefully places his lips against yours. Wasting no time, you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. Your nails are softly combing through his hair as his hands start to roam your body. You hear squeals in the background before slowly pulling away from his lips. Gloss slightly smudged on your face and on his lips. Your mouth curves into a smile before you turn your attention to your friends. "I'll see y'all in the next town," you raise your middle finger at the pair before gathering your items to leave with your new man.

"You gon' apologize for ignoring me all this time," he looks over at you, licking his lips as you help him load up the rental. Already knowing what kind of apology he wanted, you shake your head, "nah, I've been under so much emotional stress lately. I think you owe me an apology, maybe even two," you giggle as he closes the trunk. "I’ma give you whatever you want baby," he says, hand smacking your ass before you walk over to the passenger door.

[creepercraftguy]

NAEGIRI WEEK 2024: Day 1 - DISCOVERY

Makoto Naegi is the unlikely headmaster of a rebuilt Hope's Peak Academy, navigating its haunting past and uncovering hidden secrets alongside Kyoko Kirigiri, who confronts the emotional and physical scars left by their shared tragedies.

@naegiriweek

Full Story below the cut. You can also find the story on my WattPad and AO3.

In case it wasn't already obvious, Makoto Naegi was not your typical high school headmaster.

Several months after the Final Killing Game, Makoto and the Future Foundation decided to rebuild Hope's Peak Academy, with him becoming the principal and working alongside Kyoko. This was a decision that many had found...questionable...Especially considering almost every bad thing that had happened to Makoto, and by extension, the entire world, all originated from this prestigious, but ultimate twisted academy.

Any other person would have been more than happy to scrap the building, abolish the Ultimate system entirely, and maybe even build an entirely new academy to teach the next generation of youths, but Makoto's idea of Hope was much stronger than the average person. The symbolism of turning a school that had fallen into despair, and transforming it into a beacon of Hope once again was just too powerful to pass up, and thus the Future Foundation agreed to give Makoto this one opportunity.

But there were more reasons than just that. Hope's Peak still hid many secrets within its walls. Secrets that could potentially be exploited for evil. Makoto knew that if anyone was going to find these secrets, he was the best person for the job. And who better to help him uncover these secrets than Kyoko, who was well acquainted with the school herself?

With that being said, progress on the investigation was slow, and Makoto mostly handled it himself due to Kyoko's condition. She had almost died due to the NG poisoning during the killing game, but miraculously, she left the building alive, having been recovered by Mikan from a near-death state. However, the poisoning had still destroyed a large portion of her body inside, leaving her arms and hands horribly scarred. The doctors were able to fix the damage, but unfortunately, the burns were so severe that Kyoko had lost nearly all vision in her left eye, and needed a walking stick to help move around.

Makoto knew she would never be able to live a normal life, but he was glad she was able to survive. Even though it had been a month since the incident, she was still getting used to her new disabilities. Makoto offered to have the Future Foundation provide her with the best possible prosthetic arms and legs, but Kyoko refused, saying she wanted to overcome her struggles using her own strength.

Unsurprisingly.

Still, today was a bit different, as out of the blue, Makoto had asked Kyoko to come and visit him at the school. He hadn't been clear on the reasons why, just that it was important and involved her. Kyoko had agreed, and now the two were standing in the middle of the classroom together, looking around as Makoto spoke.

"So you're probably wondering why I asked you to come here?" he said.

His voice was almost teasing, as if he was enjoying being the one in the know while Kyoko didn't; a rare switch in their usual standing that he was very happy to take advantage of.

"You wanted to show me something," Kyoko answered, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room, "That's the only reason I can think of for why you would invite me here."

"Correct," Makoto nodded, "so...you know how we've been looking around the school, and we keep finding these hidden rooms that each serve a different kind of purpose?"

"Yes," Kyoko nodded, "are you saying you found another one?"

"I am. But there's a reason why I called you here instead of anyone else who could help me check it out. I know you're supposed to be resting, but it felt right to invite you over. It was a bit hard getting you to come here without spoiling the surprise, though."

"That was an annoying effort, I'll admit," Kyoko smiled, "but you did a good job."

"Thanks," Makoto smiled, "So...you ready to see it?"

"Lead the way," Kyoko replied, gesturing forward.

Makoto gave a single nod, then proceeded to walk over to the wall where the hidden room was. With a quick tug on the right books, the door to the secret area opened up. The room was small, only big enough to fit one or two people inside, but it was still impressive. The walls were lined with monitors and a few keyboards, all of which were powered by an electrical box that was sitting in the corner of the room.

Kyoko also saw a few shelves with dusty paper files on them. At a glance, it was clear which one's Makoto had already read and which one's he had left be.

"What's all this then?" she asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could your opinion on that," Makoto told her, "but from what I can tell, this room was supposed to be some kind of secret study. A place where someone could hide and work on stuff away from everyone else."

"A spy room?"

"Possibly, or just a place to think."

"Junko's?"

"That's what I thought at first, but...Well, when I was looking around, I found a bunch of these files on the shelf," Makoto explained, "past investigations, secrets about the school, and even a few hidden journal entries that somebody left behind. All of them are signed with the same name..."

"Who's?" Kyoko tilted her head. Makoto swallowed, as if he was hesitating telling her, but did so anyway.

"The previous headmaster, who died prior to our Killing Game," Makoto told her, "Jin Kirigiri. I think this was his secret study."

Kyoko's eyes widened.

"My...father's?" she asked.

"I know how crazy it sounds," Makoto replied, "but this place has the same vibe that his office did, and the writing style in these documents matches up with what we knew about him. Plus, I can't think of a reason why anyone else would be hiding this place, not even Junko."

Kyoko felt a little bit of emotion rise up inside her, but quickly stomped it back down, keeping her expression calm.

In the eyes of many, and in the heart of Kyoko herself, she and Jin Kirigiri were related by blood, but nothing more. For most of her life, she believed that Jin left her when she was a little girl and that he used her mother's death as an excuse so that he could leave the house, never knowing him as a father because they never really spoke to each other much during their days together.

It was Kyoko's disturbingly twisted grandfather, Fuhito Kirigiri, a man she had spent her whole life looking up to before she found the truth of who he really was, who encouraged her to hate her father. In reality Jin left the family because Fuhito showed no care when Jin's wife died.

When Kyoko found out that her father died in the school at the hands of Junko and Mukuro, and found his skeleton, she didn't show any feelings towards his death. But Makoto, who was looking at the remains of her father instead, noticed that she didn't even look in the box.

Makoto somehow knew that somewhere in her heart she must have thought she was wrong and guilty about her father's death. But she never showed it. Not even now.

"That is certainly interesting," she commented, "I wonder why he didn't tell me about it, if this is his secret study."

"I don't know," Makoto said, "maybe he was just hiding it in case anyone tried to snoop around and found his investigation papers? I mean, it's not like you would have remembered it was here after Junko wiped our memories, so maybe he did tell you and you just don't remember?"

"Fair point..." Kyoko nodded, "So what's in here that you think is so important?"

"I think it'd be easier if you saw for yourself..." Makoto gestured towards some of the shelves, "just...be careful. The dust is thick in here."

Kyoko was honestly hesitant. Yes, as it turned out, Jin Kirigiri wasn't the poor, selfish man that Kyoko thought he was, but at the same time, she'd been avoiding places associated with him since their escape from the school. She didn't want to think about him, or about her past in general, because she didn't want to stir any painful feelings inside of her.

But still, Makoto had been nothing but kind to her, and he had taken time out of his day to find this secret study. He had even invited her specifically, despite knowing how she felt. Kyoko would have been lying if she said she wasn't at least a little curious, so with a deep breath, she walked over to the shelf, grabbed one of the folders, and flipped it open.

Makoto, for his part, lingered in the doorway, letting her read alone, but waiting nearby enough so that he could offer his support if she needed it.

"Is this..." she whispered, her voice trailing off as she began to read.

"Yeah," Makoto said, his own tone low, "it is."

On the inside of the folder, Kyoko saw a picture, a list, and some handwritten notes. The photo was of a young girl, around 10 years old...Unmistakably herself as a child.

Her style was a bit softer and less hardened than her current self, though still notably professional and reserved. She had long, silver-purple hair tied in a neat, straight ponytail, with her bangs framing her face and covering part of her forehead.

Kyoko wondered how her father got this picture of her. After all, this had been taken long after they'd been separated, so where did it come from?

"There's a letter," Makoto mentioned, "you can read it if you want, but I've already done that."

Kyoko knew that even though he said she could read it if she wanted, his tone suggested that he really wanted her to read it now. Maybe not out loud, but still while she had it so she wouldn't forego the chance to read it later.

She sighed and found the letter he was talking about, and her eyes began moving along the page, silently reading her father's words:

Dear Kyoko,

I hope this letter finds you, though I can only imagine what state you might be in, should it reach you at all. And I hope, despite everything, you will still find it in your heart to read it.

The world seems to have fractured at its seams, spiraling into something darker with each passing day. This tragedy...it is beyond anything I could have predicted, even in my worst fears. I can only wonder how you and your classmates are managing in the middle of it all. I do not know what kind of future is left for you, or for any of the young souls burdened by the chaos we failed to prevent.

I can only apologize, though I know it will never be enough. For not being there when you needed me, for all the unanswered questions I left you with. Believe me, leaving you was not a choice I made lightly. I told myself that my distance would protect you, that it was the only way to keep you safe from a fate darker than loneliness.

Seeing what you have become...an accomplished, highly intellectual detective, I believe that my father's teachings served you well, even if I disagreed with the notion myself. Yet now, I can't help but regret it. I can't help but wish that I had been stronger, had found another way. One that did not mean leaving you on your own.

But even in my absence, Kyoko, I have always cared. You must know that. I followed your progress from afar, watched you grow into someone more resilient and brilliant than I could ever have imagined. I see in you the strength I had hoped for, though I had no right to ask it of you.

Hold fast to that strength. The world may be coming undone, but I have faith that if anyone can navigate it, it is you. I say this not as your headmaster, but as your father, and whether you accept as much is not for me to force upon you.

With all my love and my deepest regrets,

-Jin.

Kyoko could feel her hand beginning to tremble as she reached the end of the letter, and she quickly placed the folder back down on the shelf. She took a deep breath, then turned back to face Makoto, who had patiently waited for her.

"It's a shame," she commented.

"What is?" Makoto asked, a little confused.

"This room," Kyoko explained, "all this space, and for what? To keep secrets, and hide things away. Such a waste..."

Makoto knew exactly what was going on, though. He knew her too well not to.

"We'll get the chance to make better use of it," he reassured her, "once everything's settled, I'll have a room cleared out. You can store all the important evidence you need in here, and nobody will be able to get to it. You can make it your own personal study, and we'll call it the Kyoko Kirigiri room!"

He flashed her a bright smile, hoping to cheer her up.

Kyoko stared at him blankly, but there was a twitch in her mouth, as if she wanted to smile back.

"We can discuss that later," she said, turning back to the shelf, "for now, I should check over the files and make sure we're not missing anything."

"Sure thing," Makoto agreed, "but...Kyoko?"

"Yes?"

"You know you don't have to be like this ALL the time, right?"

"Excuse me?"

Makoto sighed.

"I know you've been like this for as long as you can remember. You keep your emotions in check so that the people around you can't take advantage of them. It's the best defense mechanism you've got. But, the world's different now. We're rebuilding it. We've overcome the worst of our despair," he asserted, "You're among friends. I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but you're safe. There's no reason for you to have to keep putting on a mask all the time, not when we're here for you. You don't have to be so cool, calm and collected 24/7. If you want to cry, then cry."

Kyoko shook her head.

"I don't want to cry," she made this clear, "but...you're right in that I feel...emotional...about this..."

"There's...actually another thing in that file that you might want to see," Makoto mentioned, "it's a photo. I'm not sure who of, but I can take a guess."

Kyoko turned back to the files, and found the photo.

It was of her father, and another woman sitting next to him, back when he was much younger. She was sitting on Jin's lap, her head resting against his chest. A wide, contented smile was spread across her face, and Jin was grinning down at her, his arm wrapped protectively

She looked a lot like Kyoko. She shared her composed demeanor and elegant appearance, with some physical similarities. She had a refined, calm aura, and her hair was a muted shade, worn in a practical yet stylish way, possibly in a short, neat cut or a simple, low bun.

"I was thinking that might be your mother," Makoto mentioned.

"I agree," Kyoko nodded, and surprisingly, a smile broke across her face, "so that's what she looked like?"

"You didn't know?" Makoto asked.

"I never met her truly," Kyoko said, "she passed away when I was too young to remember her. I'm sure I'd have some semblance if I was allowed to visit her, but my grandfather forbade me. He wanted to prioritize my detective work."

Makoto clicked his tongue. Even though he knew that he had been an iconic figure in Kyoko's life, he couldn't hide his disdain.

"I know this isn't my place to say. I can't speak for either of you, after all," he said, "but Kyoko...Jin really did love you as his daughter. I'm certain of that now. Whether you agree or not is a matter for you, but you can't deny the proof."

Kyoko nodded.

"You're right," she said, "as far as my father's involvement, there's no denying the facts."

She put the file back on the shelf, then turned and looked at him.

"Thank you, Makoto," she said "For showing me this, I mean. I think you were right to. This isn't the kind of thing you can just ignore, no matter how hard you try. It's something that has to be faced."

"I agree," Makoto smiled back, "so it's no problem, really."

"And, also, I'm sorry. For putting you through this, for making you deal with my issues. You're trying so hard, and I appreciate that," she said, "I'm a bit embarrassed, honestly. I'm supposed to be helping you with your investigations, and instead you're doing all the work and having to worry about me on top of it. You'd think, with all my experience, I'd have a little more self-control..."

"Hey, it's fine," Makoto assured her, "it's okay to lose your composure once in a while. In fact, I like this side of you. Not to say that you're a dishonest person. I just want you to be more honest with yourself, just like you are with us."

"Honest with myself?" she frowned curiously.

"Yeah, when it comes to emotions, anyway," he elaborated, "We're friends, so we don't mind. Just...don't shut yourself out. Don't pretend you're okay when you're not, and don't pretend like you're not hurt when you are."

"I suppose I could work on that..." Kyoko said.

"Yes, you could," he chuckled, "just...if you need to let your emotions out, do it any way you please, and I'll help you with it."

Kyoko paused, considering his words for a moment.

Makoto was completely the polar opposite of her. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and never usually hid how he felt. Even when he tried, he was usually bad at it.

His kindness and compassion for others were evident in his every action, and that was one of the many reasons why everyone who had been affected by the tragedy adored him.

Maybe there was some wisdom in that. After all, Kyoko wasn't sure how much longer she could go on keeping her feelings to herself. And she trusted Makoto with her life. She had every reason to, after all.

"If that's...really how you feel..." she lowered her eyes for a minute, brushing some hair to the side with her hand, "could you...come closer?"

"Sure," Makoto nodded, carefully moving a little closer, "is there something else you need me to look at?"

"Not quite," Kyoko replied, "I was actually thinking that I'd like to return the favor..."

She carefully wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Makoto paused for a moment before he returned the gesture, as Kyoko rested her head on his shoulder.

True to her word, she didn't cry. But she did take a minute to bask in the feeling of having someone so close, a warmth she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Makoto didn't say anything back, but Kyoko didn't miss the small, comforting squeeze he gave her as they stood there, embracing each other in the secret study.

In that moment, Kyoko felt the urge to say something more.

Maybe the world wasn't ready, maybe she wasn't, or maybe it wasn't the right time. But even so, the words bubbled up inside her, and she wanted nothing more than to say them. She lifted her head, and stared into his eyes.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked.

"Sure," Makoto said again, without hesitation, knowing that this had been a long time coming.

The two moved their heads closer, and their lips met, as Kyoko's hand found its way to Makoto's hair. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, and she let out a soft sigh.

After a few minutes, the two reluctantly separated, and Makoto gave a small laugh.

"So...did you just kiss me because you were grateful?" he asked, his tone light and teasing, "or was there a little more to it than that?"

"You're smart," Kyoko smirked, "I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Well, maybe you could give me a clue?" he suggested.

Kyoko thought about it, and her answer came quickly.

"It's not something that needs a reason, is it?" she said, "If two people love each other, then there's no reason not to express it. That's my opinion, at least."

Makoto blushed.

"Love?" he said, his tone incredulous, "Is that how you feel?"

"I wouldn't ask otherwise," Kyoko shook her head, "you know me. I'm not the kind of person to ask something like that without meaning it. Unless the idea of your lips on mine is that revolting."

"Don't be stupid," he chuckled, pulling her in for some more.

Time passed, and eventually they broke away. Kyoko left the files where she had found them, took her cane, and they walked out of the study, locking pinkies.

"I'll definitely come back to that room later," she said, "I...think there's more I want to learn about my father."

"Me too," Makoto nodded, "just make sure you let me know next time. I'll come with you."

"You don't have to do that," Kyoko assured him.

"I know, but I want to," Makoto said, "for a few reasons of my own."

"And those are?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, for one," he listed, "I also want to learn more about Jin. And even if I didn't, I want you to know that come hell or high water, I'll be there to support your or lend you an ear if you need it. That you can lean on me if you have to."

"A fair point," she said, "but also, I hope you don't feel like you have to watch over me or worry about me. I am an independent woman, after all. You don't have to treat me like a porcelain doll."

"Oh, I know," he nodded, "it's just that...well, it's nice to have someone watching your back."

"I agree," Kyoko nodded, "sorry for being difficult. Are there any other reasons?"

"Well," he leaned in, his tone and expression surprisingly low and flirtatious for him, nuzzling his cheek against hers, "I don't think anyone else knows about that study yet. So it's nice to know there's a place we can go without getting...interrupted..."

"Psh...You dog...!" she snapped teasingly, planting a kiss on his cheek.

[ihavethedreamies]

Grape | Juicy Fruit | Renjun

Hwang Renjun - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~1.5k

Pairing: Renjun x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Soft Dom! Renjun (Barely there), Oral (M! Receiving), Couch Sex, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: You have an…intriguing way of eating grapes…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, and this is the shortest one…sorry.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

-> Series Hub <-

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍌 Jeno 🍌

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

You loved grapes but were extremely picky with them. They had to be hard and crunchy, if they were even slightly squishy, you wouldn't eat it. This was annoying for your boyfriend because he could get them for you and then you might reject them due to improper firmness. This was mostly before you two were dating, and he could pick them out good after nearly two months of getting it wrong. He had learned. The only problem? You ate them way too fast. Not that you got a stomach ache, it’s just you could down a whole bag of them in like two days if he didn't make you pace it out. It was a warm spring day, around 3pm, you had the windows open to air the apartment out after cleaning. He came home to you sitting on the couch in just a tank top, panties, and sneakers. That's how he knew you had cleaned. You were flipping through YouTube on the TV, an empty box of cheese whales laying on the couch cushion next to you.

"You hungry, pretty girl?" Renjun smiled, placing the grocery bags on the counter. You made a general positive grunt, and he pulled the grapes out of a bag and your face lit up.

"Help me put these away first." He chuckled when you groaned but got up to do so. You were normally a stickler for no shoes in the apartment, but your feet hurt without shoes when you cleaned, so you had a pair just for that exact task. Renjun had a hard time not watching your cute little butt, covered only by purple panties, jogging around the kitchen as you put groceries away. Your tank top was tight, making it obvious you weren't in a bra, and he had to force his gaze away from you. Even the way the end of your hair, up in a high ponytail, dangled over your shoulders was distracting him. You were none the wiser. Once everything else was put away, he led you back to the couch, holding the bag up for you to follow like you were some kind of animal…it worked though. Your boyfriend was not exactly tall for a man, especially compared to his friends, but he was still almost half a foot taller than you. Because of this, when he held the bag of grapes above his head as high as possible, you couldn't reach them.

"Renjun!" you scolded, and he laughed, relenting when he felt your breasts squish against his chest as you tried to reach your snack. You were about to become a snack, if you didn't stop tempting him. Not that you were trying. You shoved the empty box of cheese crackers out of the way, the blue box flying pitifully off the couch and onto the floor. Renjun sighed, too lazy to deal with it right then, so he rested back onto the couch with you. You had slipped your sneakers off, socked feet resting on the edge of the cushion, knees to your chest. He tried not to straight out stare at you as you popped the green little orbs into your mouth, one by one. You were so cute when your cheeks were puffed up, staring enthralled at the video you had pulled up. He barely was even paying attention to the man in the video, making an instrument out of a squash to play a song with it.

"Ah, fuck." You clicked your tongue. You had gotten ambitious and tried to put too many grapes in your mouth, one of them slipping past your lips, tumbling to fall right between your tits. Renjun was quicker than either of you thought possible. Before you could pick the fruit up off your skin, he had leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the grape, barely grazing your skin and he pulled back up like what he just did was normal. You blinked at him, and he was fighting back a laugh, trying to stay cool and confident. When your brain registered what he did, you sneered.

"Grape stealer…" You grumbled and this made him laugh, nearly choking on the grape he was still chewing. Rolling your eyes, you went back to the video, your attention getting caught as his hand reached to pluck a grape from the vine. Your bewildered stare followed his hand and he smirked, holding the little green ball between his teeth. Sucking it in, he just held it in his cheek.

"Bitch-" You started, and he huffed.

"Come and get it then~" Renjun laughed when you shoved the bag away, to the other end of the couch, climbing onto him. You straddled your lap and at first you were going to pry his mouth open like he was a puppy chewing on a rock, but his hands came to your hips, pulling you down against him. You froze, feeling his half-hard cock straining against his jeans, rubbing against your barely covered cunt. That changed your entire approach. Sniffing, trying to appear unaffected, you instead leaned down, sealing your lips over his. He immediately let your tongue enter and you reached in to try and find the fruit. Your tongue hit it, wrapping around it as well as his tongue so you could pull it back into your mouth. Once you had retrieved your bounty, you pulled away, saliva dripped from your lips and you chewed on the grape, sitting smugly on his lap. Instantly, pretty, sweet Renjun was gone, a harder look crossing his face. Your core clenched at the demeanor shift, your smug look disappearing, body deflating a bit. Your fingers messed with the end of his sweat shirt as he nuzzled your neck, starting to kiss and suck there. You shivered with a mewl, fingers dancing down to the zipper of his pants.

"You thirsty now, pretty?"

"Hm." You hummed sheepishly and he leaned back into the couch, his hands leaving you. You took the signal and scrambled off his lap to kneel on the floor before him, eagerly unzipping his jeans to grab his fully hard cock. Your mouth watered, craving him way more than you ever would the grapes. When your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, starting to take him into your mouth, he realized why you eating the grapes got to him so much. You sucked them into your mouth just like you were sucking his dick. He licked his lips, a slight bit of the juice still lingering.

"Good girl~" He praised as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you moaned in reply. Renjun rested his hand on your head as it bobbed, your hands wrapping around what didn't fit in your mouth. Your mouth had been watering already since the grapes were a bit sour, like you liked them, and so you were slathering him and your face with drool. You were a mess, and it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen.

"Okay, up." He grew impatient and led you to get up off the floor.

"But!" You tried to protest, but with a great deal more strength than you knew he had, he hauled you up by the elbow and your back hit the couch. Renjun was too eager to even bother taking your tank off, so he just shoved it up and over your breasts, so they were revealed to him. Seeing you half-clothed like that normally didn't do anything for him since it was your cleaning clothes, but you were driving him crazy. Your hands scrambled at his shoulders, desperately gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt and he huffed before yanking it off. He didn't know why you cared so much, it’s not liked he looked like Jeno or Jaemin. You let out a long whine as your hands skated over his smooth skin and he was tired of waiting. Your boyfriend simply pulled your panties to the side, he was not strong enough to rip them off, and you would kill him for doing that anyway. Your breath left you in a loud gasp as he buried his cock inside you all at once. Your cunt burned pleasantly at the rapid stretch, your legs shivering at Renjun's sides. He watched you, licking his lips, as your tits bounced with each hard thrust he delivered. Your head was thrown back, hair spread over the couch cushion, hands rested on his torso at his ribs.

"R-Ren~!" You cried in delight as he hauled your legs up and over his elbows and rolled his hips even harder. He loved the gasping moans he was forcing out of you. As he felt himself getting closer to the edge, his thumb landed on your clit, and he felt your cunt clench his cock harder.

"-j-jun!" Your voice was getting hoarse, not holding any noises back.

"Cum, pretty." He pressed his thumb harder, and you fell over the edge, your pulsing walls milking his cock as he fucked his cum into you. When he finally stilled, you mewled with each panting breath.

"Gotta get you grapes more often~" Renjun chuckled, and you huffed.

"Rather have you instead."

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Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[inbarfink]

So here is a thing that I noticed going over the sort of weird expressions that Zim uses in canon. When Zim doesn’t know the human term for something, he will make up some bizarre word combination of his own… but he will hardly ever substitute an Irken term for it. You know, when he first comes to Earth, he doesn’t call Human children ‘smeets’, he calls them ‘worm-babies’. He doesn’t assume the Earth is controlled by a Tallest, he just calls President Man ‘the Earth Leader’. 

And that… makes sense, Irk is a spacefaring empire which clearly had contact with other alien civilizations for a very long time. Zim would have some frame of reference to know that, for example, Vortians don’t call their children ‘Smeets’ and therefore he has no reason to assume the distant alien planet he just landed on would use that term either. I mean, yeah, Zim is often irrational - but that’s one point where he is surprisingly reasonable…. Well, until he needs to think up what he assumes the proper inconspicuous earth term would likely be and comes up with the most ludicrous option available.

And sometimes, and especially later on in the series, it’s clear that he does know what the Correct Earth Term is but is just looking for an excuse to insult humanity again by using a derogatory term he made up. 

And, like, you know… yeah, it is actually kinda obvious why he wouldn’t use the Irken term in that context. He thinks Irkens are inherently superior to humanity. Calling human children ‘Smeets’ would be comparing them to Irken children which would be a compliment to the ‘filthy humans’ that he would not be able to stomach. And like, I know a lot of ‘Alien Among Us’ stories get a lot of their comedy from, y’know, cultural differences and assumptions clashing. But I would argue that while IZ does that sometimes, a lot of Invader Zim’s comedy is actually based on Zim’s immediately assuming Earth Culture has to be as alien to Irken Culture as possible, when they are actually not so different. 

But also I want to take a moment to address the one time where Zim does seemingly uses an Irken term for a human, and that’s when he address the McMeaties clerk guy as ‘Burger Lord’ in ‘Germs’4

Which is probably related to the Irken title for a high-ranking frycook being ‘Frylord’.

But that actually makes sense both in the sense of, like... this term is in use on Foodcourtia, and Foodcourtia, although clearly a part of the Irken Empire, is frequented by many different alien species. So due to the planet's importance as a galactic center for fast food, the term ‘Frylord’ and its derivatives have spread beyond the Irken Empire. Or maybe it was an alien term to begin with and it spread into Foodcourtia through its non-Irken customers. Whatever it is, Zim would at least have a reason to think this might be a universal term and not an Irken-specific thing.

And also, this is a rare occasion where Zim is kinda, like, trying to genuinely get on the good graces of a human and is treating human technology (SPACE MEAT) with an unusual amount of respect - and he just doesn’t really have the mental focus to start condescending to him right now. So kinda reflexively using an unusually respectful Irken term for a mere Human Fast Food Worker makes sense considering his emotional state. He’s probably too germ-panicked to remember he’s not supposed to remember his time in Foodcourtia as well. 

Like, yes, I am aware I am probably looking too deeply into the continuity of this one line. “Germs” and “The Frycook of What Came From All That Space” are so far apart in the timeline that the actual writers probably weren’t thinking about this, right? I just think it’s Cool that one can fit this little ‘Burger Lord’ detail so neatly and so consistently into the lore and with Zim’s characterization.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. xiv: The Will of Man

Chapter Summary: It's going to be one very long night.

Word Count: 4429

Sneak Peak: “This your plan, huh? Finish off what you started?”

Warnings: Public intoxication, dirty thoughts, manhandling, angst, Brat!Valeana.

T H E  G R E E N S 

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Aemond had escorted Lady Maris back to her apartments after their time in the library. He was a bit surprised how easily he fell into a long conversation with her, and how it was not even forced. Maris was far more intelligent than he would have assumed; she had an interest in herbology and the medicinal purposes of plants. In another life, she could have been a maester. She even had her own journal she pressed flowers and plants in and wrote down information that she had learned from them.

She was different to Valeana, pleasantly so. She was intelligent in similar ways to him, and that made the prospect of courting her seem less like a chore. The idea of actually marrying her, however, was difficult to swallow, despite the distinct possibility that it might be a reality should he carry along with this charade. Though, Aemond supposed it wouldn’t be terrible. Their conversations were academic in nature, which he enjoyed. With Valeana it was almost never serious; she was quick to make jokes, or gush over superficial things like how a woman’s dress was made, or about a particular shade of green on a leaf she spotted. It was hardly stimulating, so Maris was a breath of fresh air when it came to his experiences with the fairer sex. It also helped that she wasn’t terrible to look at either.

Aemond did notice that she tended to ramble quite a bit, going on tangents about random facts that he either already knew about or didn’t interest him. There was one moment where she corrected him on the pronunciation of a common bush flower known to be toxic in large amounts, which annoyed him more than he cared to admit (he was positive that he was saying it correctly, having heard it a hundred times). He brushed it off, though, for the sake of the conversation and the obvious blush over her cheeks and ears that betrayed both her nervousness and attraction.

“Good night, my lady,” he had bowed and kissed her hand, a gentlemanly smile upon his lip. That blush came back as she bowed her head and gave him a stuttered good night before reluctantly closing the door to the tower. 

Aemond’s good mood was reflected in his gait as he trailed from the north tower, back to the Throne Room to reach the Holdfast. As he passed the shadow of his ancestral throne, Aegon intercepted him on his way out. 

“Brother! You’re looking very cheerful,” The elder slowed down his pace to turn to Aemond. “Coming back from Madam Sylvi’s? That is where I am headed right now.”

“My mood has significantly depreciated these last few seconds,” The younger pursed his lips and partially turned to Aegon’s direction. “Is there something you need of me, or can I go on my way?”

“I see the Madam is losing her touch, if you are already agitated so soon after her craft.”

“I was not–” He interrupted himself. Aemond’s eye shut upon realizing he was quickly losing his composure. However, simultaneously, the chorus of giggles, followed by gasps of women caught his and Aegon’s immediate attention. 

The following sight had rendered Aemond completely motionless, as the only thing he was capable of doing was trying to process what was happening. 

With a loud shout of: “Egg-On-Toast!” the two princes had come to the immediate understanding that they were in the presence of drunk wellbred women. A rare sighting to be sure, though such public displays from young ladies at such high standings could potentially ruin their reputation for the rest of their lives. And yet, he did not care; it was not his burden to bear. Except, among the three was a certain Valyrian blooded woman, and then he cared immensely. 

The one-eyed prince found himself fixated on Valeana as she stumbled on her feet and words 

Aemond was biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his expression as stoic as possible. The last thing he wanted was to expose his fascination and amusement over the entire situation… Particularly when Valeana jumped out of her skin like a startled cat when she noticed him. It reminded him of all those times he would scare her after jumping out from around the corner or through a secret passageway. The way her body would go rigid, eyes wide and mouth open and pulled downwards as she gave a strangled yelp, then cursing him to the hells afterwards. 

It was adorable. 

And gods dammit, it still was.

But then she had to go around and be a pain in his arse again, reminding him why he was actively avoiding her. Why her presence was much like that bush flower he had been talking with Maris about earlier: Toxic in high doses. 

“Prince Almond.” 

His eye narrowed at her challengingly, alight with his suppressed need to smile at her tenacity. Alcohol looked good on her. She looked so flushed and darling.

Aemond growled internally at himself.

“Please do not pay her any mind, my Prince,” Ser Erryk approached her and gently grabbed her arm. 

Valeana didn’t put up much of a fight when he tugged her back into his orbit, but she kept her bleary gaze on Aemond as if he would disappear, and reappear somewhere else if she looked away. In fact, she confirmed that is exactly what she was thinking when she pointed at her eyes with two fingers and then at Aemond, mouthing “I’m watching you.”

“I’ll bring her straight back to Maegor’s Holdfast as soon as I see to Lady Wylla and Lady Ellyn,” The white cloak continued. 

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Aegon stepped up and took Valeana’s other arm. “Your hands are full enough as it is, Ser– Erryk?” The knight nodded to confirm that he got it correctly. Aegon smiled, then placed his free hand on the woman’s other shoulder. “I’ll escort Lady Valeana safely to her apartments.”

“No,” Aemond immediately blurted without thought. “I’ll escort her back. ”

His declaration took everyone by surprise, especially Valeana, who openly stared at him as if he said the most offending thing to ever disgraced her ears. 

Aegon tilted his head, a curious smile upon his face. Devious and challenging. “Ser Erryk, do not listen to my brother. Lady Valeana will be much safer in my company”

The two princes were glaring at each other, placing Valeana right in the middle, causing her head to dart between the two. Meanwhile, the two other girls whispered and giggled to each other, something about being fought over by princes and a… spitroast?

The kingsguard also looked between the two brothers, then opened his mouth to insist that he will escort her back to the Holdfast, but Aemond was the first to break the tense silence. 

“Ser Erryk, I trust your wise and honourable judgment. Prince Aegon is…” He tilted his head down challengingly at his brother. “Unsuited to escort a vulnerable, inebriated, young maiden alone at night. It is wiser that Lady Valeana comes with me.” His voice darkened as he continued, common tongue dropped in preference to a more eloquent one. “Jikagon raqagon aōha līvi, lēkia. Issa daor aōhon bisa bantis.” (Go enjoy your whores, brother. She is not yours this evening.)

“Whadju just call me…” Valeana’s muttered question went ignored, as both brothers were poised to attack each other. 

The comment achieved the effect that Aemond desired. That smug face Aegon wore fell as every word was spoken. From the implication spoken in common tongue, to the language of their ancestors that he knew Aegon could not understand. Aegon openly glowered at him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched tightly in a scowl. 

And just like that, Aemond’s mood was elevated once more. He even dared to smile down at Aegon before turning to speak to the knight. 

“It is best you hurry along, Ser Erryk. It will take sometime to get Lady Wylla back to her brother, and I am sure that Lord Borros is wrought with worry for his daughter,” Without straying his eyes off of his elder brother, he reached out and plucked Valeana from him by a tug of her wrist. In her drunken, confused state, she stumbled into his chest, her head connecting to his sternum, tucked under his chin. Aemond was immediately overwhelmed with the smells of citrus, wine, strong ale, and the familiar pheromonal scent of her sweat.

Aegon’s eyes flickered down at Valeana, who was blinking in confusion, using her palms to anchor herself against Aemond’s chest.

“Oh my gods,” Ellyn whispered to her Northern counterpart.

“I know! This is the stuff bards sing about,” Wylla whispered back, eyes captivated by the show before her. 

“The room’s spinning right now, can we all just fuckin’ leave?” Valeana slurred tiredly, one hand massaging her temple. 

“Very well,” Aegon nodded and smiled stiffly, then looked back up to Aemond. His eyes went dark, “Don’t let her fall, Aemond.”

Aemond’s smirk faltered, especially because Valeana heard him and made a pathetic little whine. She went to reach for Aegon, and that made Aemond’s blood pressure spike, forcing his own hand to grab it before she could touch the other prince. And for a brief moment, he could’ve sworn he saw Aegon’s arm move, as if he were going to reach out for her in turn.

“You best get going, Cargyll,” Aemond said curtly, and then bowed his head towards the other two women. “Lady Wylla, Lady Ellyn.” 

Tugging her with him, Aemond turned to leave the Throne Room, but not without his charge dragging her feet as she tried to reach out for her drunken companions. 

“Do not worry! I can take’em– Just gotta stay on his left side. Won’t know what’s comin’. Fare thee wel–” With a sharp yank, Aemond pulled her out of sight.

Valeana dragged her feet as Aemond tugged her down the hall by her wrist. She whined, tugged back, slipped and then cried out. When the latter happened, he immediately stopped walking and turned to her sharply, but she appeared to be fine. Flushed from brow to breast, sweaty and frazzled, but otherwise… 

“You’re walking too fast, Almond,” She threw her head back in exasperation. “With yer stupid long spidery legs.” 

“You’re making a spectacle of yourself,” He sharply shot back. “You threaten not just your reputation, but your family’s as well. I need to get you back to your rooms as swiftly as possible, so make haste– Valeana!”

She dropped down to her knees, her arm limply suspended from where he gripped her wrist. 

“I did not ask for your help, Almond,” She twisted her arm feebly, trying to free herself from him. “Aegon could have–”

“Aegon,” he practically growled the name. “Aegon would have pulled you into a dark corner and taken advantage of you.” 

“You do not know that.”

“You do not know my brother like I do,” he narrowed his eye down at her stubborn form on the floor. “Though mayhaps that is what you desire. To be felt up like a common tart.”

Her brow knitted at that, then she blinked rapidly in confusion, “Whu-what? Didju just call me a tart, Aemond Targaryen? Did you not just call me a fucking tart?”

He huffed through his nose, “Get up Valeana, before more people see you.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she stood up straighter on her knees to make her point. “You just dug your grave, Targaryen. You think I was difficult before? I’mma make this night the worst godsdamn night of your miserable life, you one-eyed wyrm.” 

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Valeana made well on her threat. She did, in fact, make that night the worst night of his life. Aemond wasn’t even entirely certain how much time passed, but what he did know was that they weren’t even halfway to Maegor’s Holdfast. He had started by dragging her across the floor by her wrists, while she explained her marital plans with her co-conspirators, Wylla and Ellyn. 

“Wylla and Ellyn will marry my brothers, and then I will marry Lord Cregan, you understand. That way, we will all be good-sisters… And in a way, we will be wives to each other. It’s a brilliant plan, really.” 

Aemond was doing a good job at not interacting with her drunk babbling, but he couldn’t stop himself when he asked, “Does Stark know about this arrangement?” His tone laced with bitter exhaustion. 

“I am sure Wylla is presenting the same proposal as we speak.” Her eyes fluttered closed, then she scrunched up her face “Are we there yet? I lost feeling in my arms.” 

Aemond immediately dropped her arms and she flopped on the ground like a starfish. 

“We would have arrived sooner if you got off the floor.”

“But the floor is nice and cool, and this bloody castle is so hot, Aemond,” she whined. 

He ran his hands over his face from his temples, down to his eye in frustration. They were getting nowhere, and the hour of the wolf was upon them. At this rate, by the time they reached her family’s wing, it would be dawn and the servants would be milling through the corridors to fulfill their morning routines.

Impatient and resolute in not allowing her to get the best of him, Aemond bent over, hauled her up from the floor, and then slung her over his shoulder. She gave an unladylike groan at the contact of her stomach being pressed against his narrow shoulder bone. She weighed like a sack of lead, but Aemond secured her legs and strode forward. 

He couldn’t move as swiftly as he would have liked, but they were making more ground this way. It was easier to dodge oncoming guards, as well, but the caveat was her kicking and slapping his back and rear like a war drum. 

“You have a very pert arse, Almond,” she had said after giving it another slap with a weak hand. He hardly could feel it through his leather breeches, but it was enough for heat to reach the tip of his ears. Out of irritation, of course, not for any other reason.

Then Valeana began to groan and moan, and when she stopped kicking about, he felt a tentative tap on his back. 

“P-put me down, Ae-aemond.”

“As much as I desire to, I am not wasting any—”

“‘M gonna to be sick,” her meek confession was enough for him to immediately stop walking and bend slightly to place her on her feet. She wasted no time to clammer against the wall until she found a narrow window that looked over the side of the cliffs. He shut his eye when he heard her heave, followed by the tell-tale sound of watery contents exiting her gullet, and splashing down the side of the Red Keep. 

Aemond leaned against the stone wall and patiently waited for her, eye remaining closed and trying to disassociate to any place that wasn’t his reality. Perhaps he should have let Aegon escort her back… Whatever would have happened between the two wouldn’t be much different to what he came upon the other night, and more importantly, it was not his business. Valeana was not a friend to him and vice versa. Not to mention, the present moment just killed any remnants of attraction he shamefully and subconsciously harboured. 

Finally, Valeana pulled away from the window, using her sleeves to wipe at her mouth and chin. She had a pained expression on her pink face when she settled her side against the wall. 

“That is the price you pay for overindulging in drink,” his berate was softer than he’d intended. 

She sent him a withering look, “Why did you insist on escorting me back, Aemond?”

There was some surprising clarity in her words, almost like she had purged the source of her befuddlement just enough to think and speak coherently. The problem was he didn’t have a good answer, at least one that would satiate her and not make him look like a fool. 

“Aegon cannot be trusted with—”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, “Aegon…Aegon… It’s not about him. Many guards have crossed our paths since you dragged me off. You have avoided them, when you could have just pawned me off to them, effectively unburdening yourself.”

“I do not trust–” He thinned his lips, and turned away before correcting himself, placing the view of her face at his blind spot. “Outside the kingsguard, the guards patrolling the keep are just as weak-willed as any man.”

“Oh really?

He did not see her take tentative steps towards him, not until she was right under his nose, craning her neck to look up at him. 

“Are you weak-willed, my Prince?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He scoffed, nearly laughing at the question. 

“I’ve already established I do not trust my mortality whilst in your presence… but could I trust my virtue in your—” she looked him up and down and tilted her head, “strong, yet nimble hands?”

Aemond pulled himself from the wall and grasped her bicep, “Let’s move before anyone sees how foolish you are.”

“Stop manhandling me! I’m the bloody Queen of the North! My husband, Cregan Stark, will not stand for this.”

At least he wasn’t dragging her along the floor, or carrying her over his admittedly sore shoulder. They continued to walk until the corridor opened up to large arches, showing the small courtyard below them. With his destination now in sight, he gently pushed her forward, ignoring her soft whines and complaints of the humidity. 

And then they reached a familiar corner, to a familiar flight of spiral stairs. That is when her feet froze. 

“No,” She spun around and tried to push through him. “I knew it– I knew I could not trust you–”

“Valeana–” he gripped her arms, oblivious to the reasons for her sudden distress. “Stop being difficult, we are almost there.” 

“This your plan, huh? Finish off what you started?”

A flash of confusion etched his features until he finally got a good look at exactly where they were. The prince’s shoulders tensed at the realization, and in that brief moment she managed to rush past him on wobbly legs. Aemond was quick to grab onto her wrist. 

“Let me go! Let go of me!” She yanked her arm, causing her sleeve to stretch and pull over her pale shoulder. 

“Valeana,” he pleaded, pulling her body against his, her back to his chest and her head tucked under his chin. Still holding onto her wrist, he folded their arms around her waist to keep her to him. “I am not trying to hurt you. I just want to see you safely back to your rooms.”

He couldn’t see it, but there were fat tears stuck to her eyelashes and rolling over her rosy cheeks. He couldn’t see it, but her left leg was shaking. He couldn’t see it, but she was baring and gritting her teeth as if she was preparing for the worst. But he could hear her sniffles, and feel her trembling fingers, and out of instinct he pulled her closer to him. 

“I’m not going to push you, Valeana.”

“You already did,” she replied immediately with a shaky breath. “Twice.” 

“That was…” He sighed through his lips, “That was a mistake.”

She slowly stopped fighting against him, and slumped in his hold like a sack of potatoes. He could feel her breathing harshly through her parted lips. 

“I’m not so sure, anymore,” her words were spoken so lowly, he almost didn’t hear her. “Let me go, Aemond. I’ll– I’ll find my own way.”

The prince was unwilling to do as she asked; he was frozen in his own body with no control of his limbs as they clung to Valeana Celtigar, afraid of letting her go. Afraid of seeing her leave him again. This was the first time in ten years that his arms have embraced her. She felt so perfect against his frame, it would be a sin if they parted, surely. 

She made a move to step away, to pry his arm from around her and leave, but the approaching footsteps and chatter of servants brought back reality. The hour of the nightingale was arriving, the dawn nearly here, and the Keep was starting to wake. 

With the sudden realization of how this looked (she disheveled, crying, with her dress tugged over her shoulder, and him holding her in a vice against his body), Aemond sprung back to sense and pulled her away from a potential scandal to both their houses. 

“We’ll go through the tunnels,” he went past the offending stairs and marched over to an alcove where a statue of the Maiden stood, surrounded by patterned tapestries. He pushed them aside to reveal a slender door, and then reached for a wall sconce, plucking the torch from its cradle. 

“Stay close,” he briefly released her to pull open the door. Billows of dust and a distinctive crack of wood told her it had been some time since this hidden passageway was used. Aemond arched his arm as he held open the door and gestured with a nod of his head for her to enter. 

Valeana hesitated of course, especially since all she could see was darkness before her. Though behind her was a maze of corridors and parapets that she would have to navigate on wobbly and sore legs. To avoid those spiral stairs, the way to the Holdfast was long and tedious. 

With a sigh of defeat, she bowed her head and slipped into the space, hands bracing the wall of the narrow fit. Aemond followed, shutting the door securely, and held the torch above their heads to shed light for their path. The narrow hallway went on for quite a while, forcing them to shimmy their way through. 

Valeana huffed and wiped her slick forehead with the back of her hand, “It’s hotter in here than outside.”

“You wouldn’t be so hot if you didn’t wear so many layers,” Aemond replied, eyes trained over her head, down the never ending passageway. It was a curious choice, given his knowledge of her aversion to heat. The dresses were lovely, and complimented her… assets well, but they were impractical in the south. Even highborn ladies at the Keep wore dresses with lighter fabric, forgoing petticoats and even chemises sometimes. Valeana’s dresses thus far had been wide and layered. 

“You’re right,” she surprised him with her answer, forcing him to glance down in time to see her exhale tiredly through pouted lips. The yellow glow of the firelight caused the sweat on the tops of her breasts to sparkle, making them look like giant pearls. 

Aemond swallowed thickly, then quickly diverted his attention to the endless abyss. He was taken back to the times when he was a lad on the cusp of manhood. Finding hair in places where there weren’t before, and waking up with a stiff member or wet bed sheets. Valeana was of the same age, going through similar but different growing pains, and they were difficult to ignore. Perhaps it was because of her weight, but Valeana’s breasts were always large – not nearly the size they were now, but bigger than most girls her age at the time. They’d pillow over the constraints of her dresses, and when she breathed heavily, the fabric would dig into the soft flesh… like it was doing now. 

The first time he stroked himself was to the memory of Valeana Celtigar’s breasts, wanting nothing more to place his cock between them. And then paint them with his spend.  

The narrow passageway started to widen when it started to decline, and the walls began to show small diamond shaped gaps in the stone wall that allowed a draft in. Valeana moved over to them and moaned satisfyingly. She threw her head back and allowed the gentle breeze waft over her arched neck and bosoms, forcing her reluctant guide’s eye to fixate on her. Then she started to unlace her bodice at the front, and something spiked inside him that felt like either panic or excitement. 

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m fucking hot,” she pulled one string at a time, exposing the thin chemise underneath. The weight of her breasts were nearly free from the confines of the corseted top, practically spilling out. 

Perhaps it was panic. A sliver of pius upbringing that drove him to jerk his hand forward to stop her. The word ‘stop’ was on his lip as fear gripped his throat. Fear of what? Fear of being caught in a compromising position? Or fear of his desire? The fear of doing exactly what he implied his brother might do, had he been in Aemond’s place. 

Aemond’s splayed hand was upon her breasts in an instant. It had ceased her movements, yes, but it effectively backfired for him. The width of his palm was holding back the spill of her heavy chest, and his fingers slightly curled into the soft flesh through the muslin fabric of her chemise. His thumb hovered over her cleavage, which rose and fell rapidly, only now for reasons other than trying to breathe through humid air. 

Valeana looked down at his hand and then slowly raised her eyes to him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his apprehension. Her pupils were blown wide, and he imagined that his single violet eye looked similarly. Aemond was breathing through the gap between his lips, which made him instinctively flick out his tongue and run it along the chapped skin. That’s when he caught her eyes flickering from his gaze, down towards his mouth. 

The subtle motion emboldened him enough to finally move his thumb. His digit plunged between her breasts, immediately enveloped by their silky – albeit slick with sweat – and smooth embrace. The heat that stirred in his pelvis immediately clouded his judgement, but he kept still, waiting to see how she would react. When she didn’t move, he tested again by moving his thumb up and down the valley, and then over a mound. 

And then it happened. Valeana arched her back into his touch and an airy plea in the form of his name was pulled from her plush pink lips. That was when Aemond became completely undone. She won. His resolve and will crumbled, and he fell on his knees before her like a sinner at the feet of the Maiden.

Notes: I think we can all collectively agree Aemond is a tit guy.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[your-darling-gaze]

The Wedding - Chapter 1

The evening was falling, I hastened around the room, trying to figure out if I was looking fine enough. 'Shouldn't have eaten rice the other night....bad, bad decision....' I think to myself, Nervously spinning as I eye my reflection in the mirror, a very visible bloat making me look fairly bulked, but I couldn't be thinking of all this right now.

I exhale, looking at the heap of make-up on my table, sighing. 'Should have started sooner...' I say, starting to pick out shades that fit in most likely.

The Pre-Wedding Dinner, of course, was something new to me.

Very new. The Theme was locked in. 'The 40s.' So of course, I had to look like a Good-Girl-Faith Lady. White, the very obvious for a bride, and floral, to make it look most decent, let us turn a blind eye to the neck line, please. After the Bachelorette Explorations of Europe, It had completely slipped my mind that I was not supposed to be looking for a matching blush 2 hours before the damn dinner.

I sigh into my hands, rubbing my face wearily as I tap away at my screen; the dialer ringing sounding more annoying than it usually does.

'Ro, Come help me out here.'

She was 'Rescue'. You know, Like...Iron Man's rescue? yeah. She owned up to that little nickname. Punctual and very, very loyal, she was inside the house exactly 4 minutes after that call ended. I could tell from the keys clinking, there she was.

'I told you, that you needed to get these things done in the damn afternoon itself!'

'I'm sorry! I was onto the caterers for tomorrow and I had to go pick out flowers and every thing...It completely-'

'Cher, Girl, Work.' She said, rinsing away at the heap of make up. Sometimes she is more practical with things than I am. When she isn't high, that is. I did of course, ask her to lay off on her stock for a while, at least since a week before the wedding. With a few needed things in hand, she and I were working on the sequence. The very staple.

First, Dress. Next, Hair. Then, Make-up.

'Where's the dress...? Tell me you did not leave it-'

'I did not leave it at the dry cleaners. Ro, Please, I'm not stupid, my dearest.'

'Well...'

'Not THAT stupid, Ro, please.'

I paused, my voice slightly silencing as I tried my damn hardest not to tear any gaps anywhere into the dress. Not that I looked like a trapped pigeon as I tried to fit, but anyway. 'Jesus, I'll donate a few million if I don't suffocate in this dress tonight...'

'Cher, why's it taking long to fit...?'

'I don't know~! I gave my right size, the same size that I gave for the gown too...'

'Hurry the fuck up or we're going to have an angry Bucky yelling up at us both...'

'Sorry.'

3 hours. Possibly the most frustrating time I've spent with my hair and make-up in my life. All to settle onto something vividly simple. I liked it that way.

'You look amazing.' 'Ro, please.' 'No, I'm not kidding. He's better faint when he see you.' 'Ro!' 'What..?'

I huffed, fixing up, one last time. Swallowing, as I unintentionally sucked in again. This was going to be a long, long night.

___________________________________________

I slowly made my way inside, fingers constantly occupied with spinning the ring, a slight anxiety. I know right, a social setting. Amazing. But this was...my dinner. Our dinner. I was afraid but I was happy too. The setting was perfect. Everything, just the right amount. The light dimmed to that perfect glow. Drinks that are always fizzy. Everyone dressed in their prettiest, vintage clothes. Odour of the barbeque grill, a sweet scent of my own lily soap on me. Ah, and...Jazz too.

Gazes turned, of course. The warmest smiles, nods of encouragement, cheers and whispers, all at once. It was thrilling, to say the least. My gaze searched around, the other hand at the same time, reaching to hold onto Rowan, just a little tighter.

Then, I saw him. He had this vector resistance, that seemed to make all time slow around him. For a moment, I had almost seemed like a fool, with that look on my face. Dazed.

My smile fluttered genuinely. I approached, quiet, as to not take his attention away. Guests were still yet to arrive. My gaze turned once back to Rowan, a supportive look in hers. I sat by him, observant.

'The Hobbit.' The Original One. He had given me that when we first met. What coincidence.

I smiled, glancing away at the drinks starting to be served. I was glad that I could make it in time today. Would've been a shame to be late to something you hosted. And borderline embarrassing too, for the both of us. 'What bride shows up late, no?' I sigh, wandering, countless conversations made and the dinner hadn't really begun yet. I hum a tune, looking around for Rowan. Where did she wander off to...? I walk around, picking up a drink.

'I am hoping she didn't go-' My chain of thought is broken by a bitter sting down my throat as I swallow the drink with clear reluctance, my face forming a not so gentle frown. 'The champagne is...bitter?'

I was panicking inside. The champagne was bitter. Oh, it is a disaster. Someone needed to stop the drinks before they reached. No, no, no.

My haste around is halted when I bump head first into Rowan, the leftover champagne in my hand almost spilling over.

'Ro, Help. The champagne...it's- it's not-'

'Oooh, drink.' She gleams, taking the champagne from me, swallowing it down without a doubt, leaving me utterly perplexed. I watch in horror as she down the glass with a satisfied hum.

'The champagne, what about it...? Ice? You want ice?'

'No~! That's...that's not...it...isn't it bitter?' I whisper yelled, still in shock from the previous little burner.

'Honey, this is Dom Perignon 2010 Magnum. This is anything but bitter. This is something Tony would kill to have in his collection.'

'But it's...'

'It's okay, cher, different folks, different views. Besides, this is better than my past week of staying clean.'

I sigh. At least it wouldn't be a disaster.

_________________________________________

Dinner was served. The atmosphere instantly smelled of fine sizzling barbeque meals and stews. Helpful, Easy glances were exchanged around the table as each one dug in. I exhale, slowly slipping my hand into James'. It brought a sort of ease, really. He was careful, nudging me for seconds when he knew I needed them, getting my locks out of my face when needed. He was very well aware, even while being occupied in very many conversations with the men. My pinky stayed locked with his, of course. It was something we did in public settings. He knew that my anxiety would continue to pin me at most times.

With a serving of the very staple, New York's Beloved Blueberry Cheesecake, and very many toasts made from all near and dears, the dinner, at last, concluded. Excitement in each person's goodbye for what's to come the next morning. The big day. 'How cliche.' I thought to myself, sighing. I held onto James' arm, entwined with care. I glanced up at him. My smile was vibrant, yes. A little sickness in my gut, I pushed the feeling away. My cheek slowly rested onto his shoulder.

'Quite a night.'

______________________________________

[bungone]

Actually no im not done because I know it gets talked about a lot but Lolita is such an interesting piece of media; not just the book itself but people's attitudes towards it.

like, first off, there's the actual author (nabokov) who goes out of his way to talk about how childish, mokeyish, immature and whatnot Dolores is in the most unnappealing possible ways, and then specifically said that he didnt want the kind of cover that every single fucking published edition of Lolita has?? With girls who are either being sexualized or very obviously having "a good time" which is absolutely not what Dolores was doing in the book?? I really, really, don't think anyone who designs these covers has even opened the first page because what. the. fuck.

It's so obvious that my man Humbert Humbert is an unreliable narrator, but gee, I guess we learned to take everything we read at face value, and also everything that comes from a protagonist's mouth as the "correct" way of viewing things, both in the book and in real life?

And even then, maybe, just MAYBE I can excuse the people who talk about how the book is fucked up because it's "glorifying pedophillia".

Maybe they had a really shitty english teacher. At the very least, they're reading it and understanding that the actions of Humbert Humbert aren't okay? They got to the halfway point. Maybe their education sytem failed them.

Maybe they had a really shitty high school english teacher that never taught them the skills necessary to understand this kind of writing. Maybe they're just dense, that's who they are as a person, and it would take someone going out of their way to point it out for them to consider the possibility.

But then there's the fucking apologists?? Like, putting aside the whole Dolores being 12 (which, yeah, is akin to putting aside the whole book, but bear with me for a second), Humbert Humbert not only kidnaps her (illegal), lies to her for a long time about her mother (not illegal but generally shitty), but is implied to have committed murder (illegal, not sure if implied is the right word here because it absolutely happened and everyone knows it), and sexually abuses Dolores (very illegal). These are crimes. He is a criminal. Say what you want about the justice system these are crimes that absolutely should be crimes.

He's clearly not an upstanding citizen, and I fail to understand how some people look at all his behavior and go "oh yes, the the man who killed a woman and kidnapped a 12 year old girl is just misunderstood, and he did those things for true love" like fuck no.

I like Lolita. It's an objectively good book. The quality of writing (high quality, I mean, I normally hate first-person writing but I actually liked Lolita), it's a great psychological horror piece that doesn't rely on things like shock value and overused tropes. The characters are all multi-dimensional and frankly, act realistically. But that's all it is. A psychological HORROR piece. It's not romantic. If anything, it's meant to make you sympathize with Humbert, and then you're supposed to take a step back and be like, "Wait. Why am I sympathizing with him? I'm not a pedophile." Because yeah, he's a complex character but that only goes to make him realistic in terms of the kind of pedos that exist in real life.

Pedophiles are people too. Mentally ill people, really, really shitty people who need serious help, but reducing them to "not human" only makes them an "other", which makes you forget that on the outside, they look like normal people. That have friends and family and go to school or have jobs and order coffe and read in libraries and yeah, maybe you sat next to one of them an entire year in organic chemistry. They're not weird stalkers that hang out in bushes in parks. Some of them, maybe, but not all. Nowhere near all.

man that derailed fast.

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [11]

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

Words: 19,142

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon drug use, canon violence, blood, bruises, manipulation, canon manipulation, canon character death, mentions of the wolf story from the cabin (it's not detailed like in the show), mentions of PTSD (canon), mentions of abuse

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

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

A/N: Fun fact: Scarecrow is actually my second favorite Batman villain (second to the Riddler of course) so I had fun writing Crane a little bit lol I am so sorry this is so late. I ended up busy for once so lol but it is a long chapter to make up for it!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You come to half an hour later, your eyes peeking open slowly. Your head is in a haze like when a sudden nap happens and you wake up confused what day it is and how long you've been asleep. Your eyes scan around, spotting Jason sitting on the floor a few feet away from you cleaning one of his guns. He's still in the Red Hood suit with his helmet off to the side and there's a blotch of light red on his jaw, right where your fist connected with his face. And the guilt hits like a freight train. You clear your throat making Jason look up to you and you think you just saw his face relax.

“What the fuck just happened?” Your throat is raw and you can't tell if that's some weird after-effect of the drug or if it's from all the yelling.

Maybe it's both.

Jason looks up to you and his stomach starts to twist into knots. The guilt is dulled but it's that echo that's annoying, like a headache that just won't quit. He's been sitting here the entire time, looking to you to make sure you're okay and wondering what he's supposed to say when you come to. He wishes he knew but he doesn't.

He can't take back what he said and he can't back you fighting. Drug or not, it never should have happened. None of it. It never should have involved you. But, now it's messier than ever and Jason desperately wants to leave it all in the shadows and creaky floorboards of this room. He doesn't want it on his shoulders or lingering on his skin or his tongue anymore. But, maybe he doesn't want you to know that just yet.

He's high but he always cares about you. And maybe, letting himself be cold about everything will be better. Maybe you'll finally leave. It'd be better for you if you did anyway.

“Exhaustion is a side effect of the comedown. The only way around it is to sleep or take more and I wasn’t gonna give you mine.” Jason states casually, going back to cleaning.

You furrow your brows. You keep coming back to wondering how you missed him taking this. It all seems so obvious and you feel so guilty about it. Maybe you were so wrapped in the sort of fantasy of being happy, with him, that you willfully ignored every warning sign. That isn't entirely true. You knew something was going on, but maybe if you looked harder, went back to your pessimism, you wouldn't have missed it.

“So, you just…let me sleep? After that?” You scoff, trying desperately to figure out which side his logic is landing at the moment.

“Cleaned the cut on your head and made sure you were fine.” Jason shrugs, his eyes glancing to you for just a second.

As soon as Jason got Hank done and into a cab back to Wayne Manor, he cleaned the blood and cut off of you. He definitely followed it with another hit from an inhaler but he helped you anyway. At the end of the day, at the end of all of this, he just wants you to be safe. Crane might be trying to fill his head with lies and it might be working, but Jason knows in the very center of his chest, you don’t deserve anything bad to happen to you ever again. You might not be entirely on the same side, but Jason isn’t going to just throw you to the side. He won’t do it. It's why he pulled his punches and he never pulls his punches.

“What about Hank?” You ask softly, your eyes never leaving him.

You're pretty sure he's still high.

Jason pulls out his phone, checking the time. “He has a few hours.”

You roll your eyes. Now that you aren’t high on the drug, your thoughts are more logical, no longer fueled by anger. You watch Jason and you remember Hank saying he’d kill Jason if given the chance. It’s not that you agree with Jason killing him, but maybe it’s kill or be killed.

“Why Hank? Like what made you do that?” You question, earning a side eye from Jason. He doesn't want you involved in any of this which also means you don't get to know the reason. Not from his mouth. “Okay, you’re not gonna put a bomb in my chest. Gar is your friend. You don’t stand a chance against Kory or Conner. Dawn is Dawn. You like to fuck with Dick. That leaves Hank, right?”

Jason offers you a grin before he chuckles. “He’s also a fucking prick and you know it.” Jason gestures a lazy free hand at you and something about the grin and the gesture, almost seems normal.

You shake off the familiarity of it because at the end of the day, you don't think Hank deserves to die, not if he didn't come here with the intent to kill Jason. “Yeah….but what? Did you lure him here or?”

Jason can tell you're digging but he can't tell for what. His reasoning why Hank and how he got him here, isn't important. It's not even relevant to really anything. But, Jason knows you and he's starting to think maybe you're digging to see if you should be on his side. That's what you usually did for things that didn't really matter. Get his side of the story so you can side with him.

“Why do you wanna know so damn bad?”

“I wanna know how mad I need to be.” Your shoulders feel heavy with the shrug.

Jason scoffs and even if he doesn't want you involved, he wants you on his side. If you're on his side, you'll back off and let the plan fall into place. “I didn’t make him come. I asked to and he did, without backup.”

“How’d you get him to show up, Jason?” You almost groan because getting answers out of him sometimes is like pulling teeth.

“Said Dick would kill me and I just wanted to come home.” Jason can't help the chuckle that falls from his throat.

Something about it is amusing.

You nod your head and maybe you feel a little less bad. You know Jason had some sort of ploy to get him here. Hank was just dumb enough to fall for it. After everything, apparently, he didn’t learn not to go headfirst into something without backup. That was just stupid. But, that also makes you question Hank’s intentions.

You don’t believe for even one second Hank showed up alone with the intention to help Jason. He was pissed earlier and he’s an ass. If Hank told any of the Titans, they would have come with him and none of them wanted Jason dead. Maybe Jason told Hank he was watching him but you figure if anyone would know how to get around being watched in Gotham, it would have been you or Dick. Yet, Hank didn't go to either of you. On top of that, why would Jason call Hank if he wanted to come home and not you or Gar? Maybe Hank wanted to be the one to either kill Jason or bring him down himself. Maybe you feel a little less bad about it.

Kill or be killed.

“Asshole.” You huff.

You watch Jason carefully, an easy smirk dancing across his lips but it never reaches his eyes. You're sober now, remembering everything that happened and you can feel the guilt washing over your insides like charcoal. None of it is true. And you hate that any of it was even said. If you didn’t mean it, neither did Jason. It was the drug and you're positive of that. And you're thinking the drug is the entire reason Jason is trying to kill Hank.

A very large part of you is wondering if you would helped Jason had you not been so mad at him. You actually think you would have and that is something you would never do. Hank is a Titan and he didn’t do anything to warrant his death sentence. You wouldn’t normally kill him but you're almost positive you would have had you not been mad at Jason. And you think, maybe that’s the reason Crane helped Jason make the drug, to weaponize him and at this moment, you swear his days are numbered. But, before you seek your revenge, you want Jason back.

Getting him back is going to be a lot more difficult because even you're sitting here itching for another hit of an inhaler. You can’t imagine how Jason is feeling the second it starts to wear off. But you want him back and you're not going to rest until you get him back.

“He probably came to kill you.” You state.

Jason snaps his attention to you, his brows furrowing. “What?” Jason huffs.

“Yeah, Titans are pissed. Well, Hank. Everyone else is just confused how the hell you’re alive and with the shit you’re doing. But Hank said if he came to it, he’d kill you so.” You let out a breath and you swear his expression just deflated.

“And you fucking fought me over that shit?”

“I was high.” You huff. “Which you know damn well if it weren’t for that shit you’re also on, by the way, I never would have. But you get the cure to fear and you lie to me and you don’t even share.” You spit back while Jason dodges your eyes this time, going back to cleaning the gun you think has to be clean by now.

“I don’t want you involved.”

“Okay.” You let out a sigh. "Why not?" You ask, Jason glancing up to you, the white strands of hair falling onto his forehead. "Is it Crane or is it me? Is it the drug? Why don't you want me involved, Jay? Because you keep fucking saying that shit with no explanation."

Jason opens his mouth to fight back, to tell you to let it rest and he doesn't have to tell you anything. But, his eyes land on the cut on your forehead and the bruising near your cheek and he caves.

"Do you really want to work with Jonathan fucking Crane?" Jason spits, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"You never gave me the choice to." You state.

"I knew you wouldn't go for it." Jason shrugs, looking back to the gun because that seems a lot easier than looking at your face now.

"Okay." You let out a sigh of defeat.

There’s no point in talking about it. He’s clearly high. You can tell by the coldness that surrounds his voice. He’s going to believe whatever Crane has to say to him because that’s the drug, you're almost certain. And Crane gave him something to cure him. Jason's in debt to him. He sees him as a savior of sorts and you desperately wish you could get through to him. But at least you understand it now.

A part of you don’t think anything could have gotten through to you while you were high. It’s powerful and strong, all-consuming. You were only high for two hours and you hate that version of yourself but there is this twitch through your bones that almost wants to ask Jason for his. It’s like a sudden vibration starting in your bone marrow and radiating through your head and your chest. And you can even feel the lingering tinge of anger like the very end of a fire.

Whatever insane shit Crane had Jason cook up, is fucked. You hope it’s not too late to talk some sense into Jason but you have to catch him when he’s not high. You aren't now and it was only one dose anyway but you swear, you feel normal. It's just that small twitch in your bones that feels uncomfortable. But, that's it. You feel like you never took it in the first place and maybe it's not too late for him. It might be a waste of breath to try when he's high, but you have to try anyway. He would for you.

You scoot closer to Jason until you're right in front of him. Jason pauses his movements, looking over your face. He felt the guilt creeping in before he took the inhaler again. He knows he’ll never forgive himself.

You place your hands on his cheeks and Jason’s face softens and you know he’s there somewhere. But you don’t feel his hands move to you and you feel like you're losing him slowly.

Maybe that’s worse than him being ripped away.

Jason’s eyes dodge yours and he wants to peel his skin off his bones. It feels wrong for you to touch him. It feels all wrong. He can’t bring his hands to your hips or to your hands or anywhere. You don’t feel like you're his anymore and it’s all his fault. He told you you were a mistake. You always deserved better than him but not a single part of him can bring himself to push again. Because you look at him with soft eyes as if you didn’t just explode on each other and have a real fight. You look at him like he’s still the only person you could ever love wholly and solely.

“You're gonna regret it, Jay. Hank fucking sucks and I don’t fucking like him either. But you’re gonna regret it.”

“Why did you fight me over him? You said he was gonna kill me.” Jason asks, his voice is soft.

Jason knows if he weren't high, that part of everything would hurt, too. A lot more than it does right now. And he is so thankful he doesn't have to deal with that pain. He's so tired of pain.

“You wouldn’t let me kill Jerry. And I knew it’d piss you off if I stopped you.” You move your hands to his legs. "And Hank isn't Jerry." You shake your head softly. "If you kill him, that'll be it and I don't want that for you, Jay."

You watch Jason hang his head, highlights from the light in the room bouncing off the white streak of hair. You know you can’t really get through to him, not right now but you want to believe you can. It makes it easier.

Jason just finds it hard to look at you. And he wants to know how you can do that. The drug still wins and he is sturdy in the plan, unmoving and relentless. But, he listens anyway and you make his chest hurt. The guilt and shame are thundering and ramming the jail bars in the back of his head as hard as they can. He doesn’t know why you're still here. Maybe it’d be easier if he believed you were working another angle. And for a second, he starts to talk himself into it, the drug encouraging him.

Maybe you're just trying to get inside of his head so the other Titans can finish him off. Maybe you're just using him, like Crane said. Maybe you want to the drug all for yourself now. Maybe you're waiting for your own moment to finish him off, he falls into your criteria now, doesn’t he?

But his eyes back to yours and all the fight he has is shaken loose, scattering through his chest as an apology breaks through.

“Sorry for what I said and for fighting you.” Jason says quietly.

Your face softens and you think maybe it's working, just a little bit. “Yeah, me too.” You nod softly.

Jason puts the gun off to the side, making sure the barrel is facing away from both of you. He finally finds it himself to bring his hands to your waist. They’re shaking and hesitant, his grip not nearly as strong as it usually is.

“No, I mean it. I don’t mean any of that shit. I don’t want you involved.” Jason's voice becomes barely a whisper. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

“Jay, I am fucking terrified for you.” You place your hands over his. “I know you don’t see it, but this is going to get fucking bad and I am scared, I know you’re not. But I am. Deactivate that bomb and come home, Jay, please.” You clear your throat. “I’m not mad…I get it. I know you didn’t mean it. I didn't either.”

“I can’t.” Jason drops his hands, shaking his head. “This is me. Gotham needs someone who can control the crime and do the hard shit. We have a plan and it’ll work out, alright? You just have to trust me.” A piece of the real Jason finds a way to break through as his jaw clenches and his brows furrow with the sudden shake his of his head. “Please.”

“I trust you more than anyone but I don’t trust Crane. You can still do this Red Hood stuff. You don’t need Crane. You never fucking needed Bruce either. You don’t need Dick. You don’t need any of them, Jay. You can just do your own thing and protect Gotham the way you want to. All you and I’ll stand beside you if you want me to. You don’t need him.”

“Yeah, I do.” Jason keeps it short.

“Okay.” You nod your head and it actually burns as if acid is being poured down your throat.

It has to be the drug. That has to be how Crane has been able to manipulate him so well. But, it is nearly paralyzing because for some reason, Crane asking Jason to do all of this, is more important than you asking him to come home. With you. Somehow, staying loyal to Crane is more important to him right now. Jason on the anti-fear drug is not the Jason you know and love.

“Deactivate the bomb. I’m asking nicely and then just beat the shit out of Hank if that’s what you want to do. I’ll get some popcorn and watch. You can’t come back from that, okay? Like you said.”

“It’s done.”

“Alright, Jay.” You let out a sigh.

You tried your best and you want him back. You don’t want him to wake up when this is over and deal with the fact he killed Hank. It’s going to destroy him. The guilt will finish him off and you hate the very idea of that. He’s not too far gone but you're terrified he will be soon. So, you move your hands to his cheeks again and press your lips to his.

Jason freezes, bits of shock taking over his body because in no world did he expect you to kiss him. But you do and you kiss him with all of the strength you can muster as Jason squeezes your hips and kisses you back. You kiss him with everything in you as if that’s enough to suck out the drug from his bloodstream and bring him back home. You kiss him as if it’s enough to make everything better again like putting a bandaid on a bruise to trick your mind into thinking it doesn’t hurt. But you pull away and his eyes are still dilated and he lacks that cheesy but lazy grin he would normally have. And you hate this.

“I’m going back to the manor.” You pause, lingering for a few seconds as if to be hoping Jason would ask you to stay but the words never leave his lips. You don’t know it, but he almost says them. He doesn’t want you here but you still feel like home and he really misses the warmth of home. Jason doesn’t like feeling so cold all the time. “I hope you can live with this when you have a comedown. I hope you snap out of it. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you go through with this. You’re really pushing the line, Jay.” Jason watches you carefully as you start to leave. “Be careful and just fucking think about it. Let yourself be sober for an hour, okay? Love you.” You let out a sigh before you head out of the room before Jason can even reply.

Jason keeps his stare on the doorway before he lets out a breath. He is begging you to understand and just trust him. You always said you trust him more than anyone and this is the one time he desperately needs you to trust him. It’ll get messier if you keep trying to get him to be a Titan again and in his impaired state, it pisses him off.

The Titans have always treated him as lesser and leftovers. He was the replacement for Dick. That’s all he ever was and he was expendable, Deathstroke proved that. And he’s better, how they handle Hank is going to more proof. The only people who didn’t treat Jason like that are you and Gar. That’s it. The Titans are the enemy and he just wants you to see through their bullshit the same way you're trying to get Jason to see through Crane’s bullshit. He just wants you to trust him.

You get back to the Manor, standing outside and looking at the entrance. The guilt is chewing at you, slowly eating you whole. You hate Hank, especially with the threat of killing Jason. But, you don’t think he deserves to die. Not unles he was really going to kill Jason when he went to meet him today. Then, at that point, he got what was coming. But you aren’t sure that’s really what the plan was and you feel horrible you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

You tried, you pulled your punches, but you tried and it wasn’t good enough. Hank might die today because you weren’t good enough. You hate him but you think about Dawn. Dawn doesn’t deserve to lose him. She loves him for reasons you will never understand but she doesn’t deserve to lose him. You know what it feels like. It’s not fair. And you feel guilty and it’s heavy and you hate you fought Jason, too. Every piece of today lays heavy on your chest and all you want to do is run out of Gotham. You don’t want to deal with any of it. But that’s not an option so you move forward, opening the door and entering the manor.

On top of the guilt over Jason, you also know you can't tell any of them what you found out. If you tell them, they'll know he's working with Crane. Jason didn't even want you to know and he even looked worried when you did figure it out. What if them knowing Crane is the partner puts Jason's life at risk? What if Crane has more than Jason on the outside? If you tell them, what if it gets him killed? And then it's your fault. Maybe it's wrong to keep it from the Titans, but you don't want to risk him getting killed again. Not if you don't have to and maybe, just maybe, Jason will change his mind last minute. You hope against hope, he will change his mind.

You head to the Batcave, not seeing any Titans around the manor. When you reach the cave, you see everyone around Hank looking worried. This is the moment for you where you know you’ll need to pick a side. If Jason goes through with this, you can’t sit in the middle and hope for the best. You’ll need to choose who you're working with. And at this point, you aren’t sure you want to work with any of them.

“You're okay!” Gar chimes as he spots you coming into view.

Your brows furrow. “Uh…yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask, looking around the room as the Titans put their eyes on you.

“Well…I mean…Hank.” Gar gestures and moves slightly, giving you a better view of Hank lying in a bed with the bomb on full display. “You also have a cut on your head and a bruise on your cheek.” Gar gestures a finger, mirroring where the bruise sits.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You shake it off, finishing your walk to the Titans.

The Titans turn to look at you and suddenly, you feel like a spotlight has just found you in the middle of a hidden forest after committing mass murder. Dick looks disappointed which you think might actually be worse than him just being mad. Same with Kory. Conner looks confused. But Hank and Dawn look pissed and you don’t so much blame them. If you were Dawn and Hank were Jason, you’d be pissed, too. But it does make you stop in your tracks.

“Oh, now you’re gonna show your face around here!?” Hank yells.

“Uh…I-I…live…here?” You question but the manor hasn't really felt like home since Jason died anyway.

“And I have a fucking bomb in my chest!” Hank yells. “You were there!”

“We know you and Jason are close, but you have to see this isn’t right.” Dawn crosses her arms.

You blink at them and suddenly you're back at the tower. Suddenly, you're in Jason’s shoes. You never understood where their issue was with him then and you never ever got to understand. But, you tried. You tried to rationalize why Jason. Why did they pick him to target? Rachel was the good kid and Jason was the troublemaker. Jason was an asshole. Maybe. But you're looking at the two of them with a cut on your forehead and bruised knuckles, knowing you passed out and you're being blamed for something you didn’t even do. It was never Jason. It was always just someone to blame.

“W-what?” You ask as you feel the lump grow in your throat.

“Hank said he saw you there.” Kory explains.

“Why were you there?” Dick asks, his voice sterner than Kory but he wants to believe Sam didn't have anything to do with this.

It's actually breaking a part of you with everyone looking at you like that. They're pointing the finger at you and it hurts. You're supposed to trust them but they didn't even ask. You were passed out on the fucking floor and Hank assumes you took a nap, apparently, and they all just believe that. You might side with Jason but they can't really believe you would help him put a bomb in Hank's chest or even let him do it.

“I…I…I can’t….I can’t tell you.” You sputter as you shake your head. “But I didn’t know that’s what he was doing. You-you have to believe me.” You croak out as your eyes start to turn glassy.

“Just like we should believe you didn’t know he was alive?” Hank barks.

“You need to calm down.” Dawn whispers to him.

“Fuck that shit! She’s in on this! I bet he sent her here to make sure I die!”

“You guys can’t really believe she would do that, right?” Gar finally pipes up. He remembers what happened with Jason and he knows you're always on the edge of something terrible. He doesn’t want that edge to become literal.

“Why else would she have been there?” Dawn asks.

"Does it matter?" Gar asks but he keeps his voice soft and gentle because he still hates arguing. "She's hurt and that should mean something, right? You guys didn't ask, just jumped to conclusions." Gar's voice starts to go quiet. "Like with Jason."

You snap your attention to him as Gar's stare goes to the floor. Your heart breaks for him but you owe him for trying to defend you. You know how much he hates it. And you think maybe you'll tell him because he deserves it.

"It all seems real fucking convenient doesn't it?" Hank barks back, not falling for Gar siding with you. "It was all a set-up!"

“I went to fucking confront him.” You scoff but it comes out weak. “Are we really doing this? I didn’t fucking know about the fucking bomb or that Hank was even going to be there.”

“Bullshit! I said I’d kill him. I bet you tipped him off and that’s why this happened.” Hank gestures aggressively to his chest.

You grit your teeth as you look desperately to Dick before looking back to Hank. “Fuck you.” You sniffle. “You know what, fine. You wanna know what happened? I went to confront him high as fuck and I saw you. We fucking fought because while high, I knew I couldn’t let him kill you because he wouldn’t let me kill Jerry and I knew it’d piss him off.”

“Wow.” Kory huffs softly as she looks to the ground, placing a hand on her hip. But, she looks up quickly at you. "Wait, you were high?" Kory asks with confusion.

Your eyes glance to Gar and then Dick before landing on Kory. "I'm tired of feeling like this." Desperation coats your words. The comedown sucked and being angry also sucked, but maybe Jason's right. Maybe that is better than feeling like this and scared and paranoid. Maybe he's right. “Look, we fucking fought, I passed out and I came back here when I came to. So, fuck you." You look back to Hank.”

“Right, but you’re killing—“ Dawn tries to argue.

“Critiera. I have a criteria and Hank doesn’t fucking meet it. I can’t let my personal bias come in the fucking way." You turn your attention back to Hank. "You don’t meet it. You don’t deserve to fucking die even though you’re a piece of fucking shit who doesn’t learn from his mistakes.” You bark. “You figure out the bomb yet?” You look to Dick.

“No, just that it’s counting down his heartbeats.” Dick answers plainly.

“Wayne Enterprises.” You state. “I saw the blueprints before I passed out. Bet if you look into it, you can find a way to build a deactivator or whatever.” You look back to Hank. “I hope you live so Jason doesn’t have to deal with the guilt. And I did tell him you were gonna kill him…. after he had the bomb in your chest. Let me know if dies, I guess.” You scoff as you turn around and start to head out of the Batcave.

Gar looks at all of the Titans and he doesn't like seeing his friends targeted. He knows that Hank was just targeted by his best friend but you didn't do anything. It's not your fault what Jason does. You don't control him and Gar thinks it's wrong for them to attack you for it. So, he follows you up to the main living room.

You suck in a deep breath as your hands shake at your sides. Dick, Kory, and Conner didn't accuse you of anything but they weren't really on your side either. And it feels like you're being abandoned and you're reminded why you always left first. It was so much easier than feeling like this. It doesn't hurt when you're the one that leaves. It doesn't hurt like this. So, your fists ball at your sides as your nails dig into your palms and your jaw clenches. All you want is to go back to before and pause time. Why is that so much to ask for?

"Are you okay?" Gar asks quietly from behind you.

You hang your head and at least you have Gar. He might not always get it but he at least tries to. And you really hope, after all of this, you don't lose him either. You want to tell him but then you'd put him in the middle. You're standing in the middle of it all right now and it is absolute hell. You can't put that on Gar. But, you can vent and you say a little bit of what happened so you turn around to face him with the shake of your head.

"No! I had to fucking fight Jason because of fucking Hank!" You scrunch your nose in disgust. "That's fucking stupid! And I can't even fucking say how the hell that shit happened or what happened because I am terrified if I tell anyone knew what the fuck I know it could get him killed." You pause as you watch Gar's face soften. "But, he put a bomb in Hank's chest and he's an ass but he doesn't deserve to die." You suck in a ragged breath. "So, I fought him and we were both fucking high and we said some really horrible shit to each other and I have no idea how we're supposed to come back from that or how he's ever going to forgive me."

Gar nods with understanding and he really wishes he knew what was going on. "What did you guys say to each other?"

"I asked him where Rose was and, uh, maybe that's why she left him...to protect herself because takes low blows. He said I was using him, we were a mistake, I made him worse. Just... we both said a to."

Gar shakes his head, trying to process what he's being told. That doesn't sound like either of you. "Why would you guys even say that stuff to each other? I mean...Jason could be an asshole but he didn't say that kind to stuff to you."

"Yeah," You nod. "The, uh, the drug. It's the one he made and uh...it's not a normal drug like...it, uh, it makes people do things I think that they wouldn't normally. I think that's why Hank has a bomb in his chest. It's why we fought, too." You confess, figuring maybe that's enough of an explanation to clue Gar in a little bit but not too much that he immediately goes to Dick.

But Gar is just growing more confused. The two of you have talked about addiction before. You had stories like the one time with your dad and your dad being an addict. But, you talked about other kids on the streets. Gar kind of thought maybe everything that happened to you made you never want to take anything but now you're out here not only taking a drug but making it. Just like Jason. None of it makes sense.

"Why would you take it?"

"I can't tell you." You mutter as you hang your head. "I won't again, promise. It was for science." You suck in a breath as Gar scrunches his face in more confusion. "But...I know if we can get him off of it, we'll get him back."

"So, the Jason we know is still there?" Gar asks with hope in his eyes.

"Yeah, as if you really lost faith in him anyway." You manage a weak laugh earning you a soft smile from Gar.

"I have to believe he's in there somewhere. Even if no one else but you does." Gar nods his head softly.

"Yeah," You suck in a breath. "I know it's weird to think, now, I guess but...if we get him back...how do we come back from that?" You ask as you furrow your brows. "I mean, what we said, what he thinks of me." You watch Gar's brows furrow. "I think his partner is manipulating him and using Jason's trust in me against him. Just...based on what he said." You shake your head. "It's nothing but...ya know? Fought each other."

"Well, everyone tried to kill me once and we're all okay now." Gar tries to chuckle softly. "If the drug is what you say it is, maybe that's the end of it. We all know that's not really Jason. He would never hurt you, on accident or on purpose. And you wouldn't either. Maybe you guys just talk. You always got Jason to." Gar offers a soft smile.

"Yeah," You smile weakly. "I guess that's true."

"I'm sorry you guys fought though." Gar offers a sympathetic look just as Dick comes rushing through the clock, coming to a dead stop as he sees you both.

You readjust your stance as you look to the floor.

Dick lets out a sigh and he does not have time for this but he has to ask. "Did you know?" 

You shake your head as your eyes meet his. "I fucking swear I didn't. I would have called you."

Dick nods and he believes you. He doesn't agree with your morals but killing Hank seems a little off even for you. Even when it comes to Jason. When you explained your criteria to him, it seemed to matter enough to you. You mentioned it downstairs. You're not lying.

"Okay. You guys go back to the Cave once Dawn and Kory have Hank in a room. Help Conner if you can and just stay away from Hank." Dick goes to walk away but then stops, looking back at you. "Did you find anything out?"

You nod hesitantly. "I, uh, I don't think it'd help with Hank though. If I thought so I'd tell you."

"Alright." Dick lets out a sigh before he heads off.

"Well," You clear your throat. "That fucking sucks." You state as you can hear Kory, Dawn, and Hank coming from the Batcave. "I'm gonna grab something from my room and I'll meet you downstairs." You offer a soft nod to Gar before you head down the hallway.

As the next three hours go by, Dawn takes off to steal the gold bars and give them to Jason. Dick goes after Dawn to try to stop her. Kory doesn't have any more answers about who brought Jason back from the dead which is a relief on your end. But, Connor still doesn't have the deactivor ready. It has to reach a 0% failure rate and he hasn't gotten that far yet.

You really hoped Jason would back out of it or he was just trying to get under the Titans' skin and none of it was real. But, as Hank's heartbeats dwindle down, you're starting to think he's really going to go through with this. He'll kill Hank and he can't just come back from that like he can with everything else. No one is going to care if Crane had him do it or not. It won't matter because Hank is a Titan. And you wonder what you're supposed to do.

If everything that happened today doesn't snap some sense into him, nothing you say or do will. It'll be up to Jason or the Titans to get him to stop taking the drug. Those will be the options. And you think maybe your only option will be to tell Dick everything you know. If anyone is going to know what to do, especially dealing with Jonathan Crane, it's going to be Dick. Maybe Crane will believe Dick figured it out on his own anyway. If Jason kills Hank, you don't think you can stand on his side anymore. It's the last thing you want to do but if he's willing to kill Hank, who knows what else he's willing to do and who else he's willing to kill. He will need to be stopped and you can't do it alone.

With only a few minutes left, Gar and you are seated watching Connor and the screen intently while you all have Dick on the comms. He found Dawn and she's with Jason. Jason tells Dawn all she has to do is shoot him and it'll save Hank. But, Dick is trying to convince her not to do it because Connor is almost there.

It comes down to just seconds when Connor finally gets the failure rate to 0%. He uses superspeed to rush through the manor while Gar and you get to your feet to watch on the monitor to Hank's room. But, just before Connor gets there, there's a thunder through the manor and the cameras go dead.

Gar and you keep your eyes on the screen as Kory runs up behind you both and pulls you both into a hug. Jason just killed Hank in cold blood. What are any of you even supposed to do now?

That night, no one has much to say. Dick informed everyone what actually happened. Jason set Dawn up so when she pulled the trigger, it detonated the bomb. It's uncomfortable listening to it.  You listen but the only thing you really hear is that Jason just put Dawn through when you went through when Jason died. He knew what it did to you and then Jason still went and decided Dawn should deal with that pain and the guilt of it really being her fault. You're appalled and disgusted even though you know it's not really him. You just find yourself in a state of disbelief and fury. How could he do that to someone? After everything?

You were high and while you know, maybe you would have helped, you find it hard to believe you would. The drug is powerful and all-consuming but it was Jason's choice to take it. It was Jason's choice to go to Crane for help. It was all his choice. He had a choice here. And it lead him to kill Hank and put his blood on Dawn's hands. Crane might be manipulating him but between him and the drug, Jason is turning into a shell of someone you used to know and you're thinking you don't want to know this version of him. And you think about the pit and maybe that's why it's so easy for Jason to bypass every moral he's ever had. Maybe the pit did take a part of his soul that day and that's just making it easier for Crane to turn him into this. Maybe this is who he is now.

And because of that, you know you have no other choice but to go to Dick.

You love Jason more than anything on the planet but that wasn't enough for him and maybe it's not enough for you either. You love the Titans, too and he's killing Hank and putting it on Dawn, maybe he is going to pick you all off one by one. You aren't going to sit here and watch it happen. You're not going to let him do it.

"Hey." Gar says quietly as he walks into the Batcave where you're staring, looking at the Robin suit.

"Hey, how you holding up?" You look back to him with sympathy. Gar was friends with Hank.

"Uh...ya know." Gar shrugs, standing beside you. "Sucks." Gar lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah." You answer shortly. "I'm sorry, Gar."

"It's not your fault." Gar lets out a sigh, looking to the ground and back to the suit. Bruce didn't get all of the blood out of it. There are still blotches of blood covering the R blade and the torso. He's tired of losing people, too. "What's wrong?" Gar asks, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "You only look at the suits when you're thinking." Gar glances to you but you keep your eyes on the bloodstains.

You shake your head. "He killed Hank by making Dawn pull the trigger. That's kind of fucked...so," You shrug your shoulders. "Guess I'm just...I'm gonna have to come clean to Dick and throw Jason under the bus which also sucks." The words stick to your tongue like shards of glass.

Gar shakes his head quickly, knitting his brows together as he snaps his attention to you. "What do you mean? You said you'd always be on his side."

One of the things that kept Gar hopeful was that you were at least still on Jason's side. As long as you believed in him, Gar knew Jason had to still be there. But, if you're willing to throw in the towel after everything, that means that's it. It can't be it.

"He killed Hank." You look at Gar as you shrug. "He can't just kill innocent people."

"Yeah but..." Gar pauses, trying to figure out how he's going to argue with that. He agrees but if you give up, who does Jason have? Maybe he still needs someone in his corner. "You said he's still there. We just have to get through to him."

"Yeah, and then he did this. I begged him not to and that wasn't enough to get through to him." You argue. "So, I give up." 

Gar doesn't get it. You're the one person who's always on Jason's side. He knows this is fucked up. But he still believes his best friend is in there somewhere. Someone like Jason doesn't just go bad. They lived down the hall from each other and Gar knows him, too. Jason Todd is in there someone and he has to believe that. But you don't and it hurts. How can you give up?

"You love him. You can't...you can't really be giving up on him." Gar stutters as his heart breaks. "You always said you wouldn't and...I don't know. I get it but..." Gar shakes his head.

Gar's words strike a nerve. It's hard enough. It's not that you're giving up because you're not. You're going to Dick and that is to get him back. You can't do it on your own and you can't keep Jason's secrets for him anymore. It's not helping him, you, or the Titans. All it's doing is getting everyone else hurt or killed. You aren't giving up entirely but the idea that you shouldn't just because you love him pisses you off because it wasn't enough for Jason.

He gave up on you long before you ever had the chance to give up on him.

"Yeah—" You bite down, crunching your teeth together so hard you swear your teeth are going to shatter through your lips. "What if loving him isn't fucking enough, Gar!? Cause it sure as shit wasn't enough for him."

It wasn't enough to keep him here with you. It wasn't enough to keep him on solid ground. You know you will never be the same as Bruce or Dick. Their approval meant something different to him and that is fine. You accept that. But you don't know how your love for him wasn't enough to keep him at least trying to be safe. At least trying to just exist. You want to know why your love for him wasn't enough for him to consider your feelings. You want to know why love just wasn't enough. It should have been but it wasn't. It was always enough for you to not give up even when you wanted to. So, why the fuck wasn't it enough for him?

"I know you can't believe that. It's always been you and him." Gar shakes his head. "He's going through some shit. I don't think that's what it was. You said it was his partner and the drug. We just have to get him off it and away from them."

"Yeah, but..." Sam's bottom lip starts to quiver. "But why wasn't me loving him enough?" Her words break and tears leak from her eyes like a warm down faucet. Steady drops of broken. "Why wasn't my love for him enough?" You pause as you take a deep breath. "He did all of this!" You throw your hands out. "Without me. Without ever telling me shit and we were supposed to be a fucking team. Me loving him isn't fucking enough and it wasn't enough for him to fucking stay alive or say goodbye or come home when he had the chance."

Gar hangs his head and he wishes he had an answer but he doesn't. "I don't know but Jason has always been Jason." Gar's voice is quiet. "Maybe it was enough for him but he has more going on. I think you know why it wasn't enough but you don't want to admit it." Gar snips slightly. "You always knew whatever he was thinking and he did with you. That's why you know how to get him back!" Gar protests. "It's why Dick hasn't been fighting you and why Kory hasn't. We know that you can get him back and it sucks that you have to deal with it. But, it's Jason." Gart shakes his head. "We just have to get him away from his partner and the drug. We can get him back."

You look back to the suit because you know he's right. It's not fair to stand here and point a finger saying he doesn't love you enough. You know it's ridiculous but you're hurt and you want the blame off of your own shoulders. But, deep down you already think you know why it feels the way it does.

Things get good and it's a lot easier to run away from them and hurt them first before they ever have the chance to hurt you. Maybe that is what it boils down to. Jason got traumatized and doesn't know how to handle his problems. Bruce made him feel like Robin was the only thing he'd ever be good at and he was nothing without that mantle. So, it gets taken away and Jason's back to being that kid on the streets with nothing but a list of people who throw in the towel when things get a little too hard. Maybe he did it to protect you sure, but maybe it was also easier keeping you in the dark so you'd leave if you were going to anyway. He did what he always does. This time though, it's more than pushing one person away. It was desperation to be better, to heal his own mental illness by taking a shortcut and sacrificing pieces of himself. It's not about you, you were just collateral damage and you know that. And you aren't sure that makes it any better.

"I have been trying desperately to get through to him and it doesn't fucking work. He's stubborn as all fucking hell and he's really digging his feet in and I think he's doing on purpose. Jason Todd was always really good at self-destruction so maybe we fucking let him. Maybe we just let him blow himself up and see where that gets him. Maybe he needs to hit fucking rock bottom where his partner turns on him. Maybe he needs it. If me begging him and fighting him isn't enough, then he's on his own. I can't bail him out of this one."

"I don't want you to regret it though." Gar shakes his head. "And I don't want to lose him. Just yesterday you were the one that said you were scared to tell Dick in case it got him killed." Gar nearly pleads with you.

"I know but I am also worried that he's going to pick you guys off one by one. And..." You shake your head. "That's not fair to you guys. I am scared he's going to get himself killed but I can't just...watch him do this shit and not do anything. We're supposed to protect people." You urge. "We are supposed to protect people and right now, the Titans are the ones who need to be protected from him. Jason needs help, too but I don't know what else to do unless you have a better idea. You know Dick doesn't want him dead."

"It sucks, okay? All of this sucks!" Gar yells. "Losing Hank, Rachel is off trying to bring Donna back and I don't even know if she can do that, Donna is dead. Dawn is leaving forever. Jason is losing his mind and now you're giving up! This sucks! We're supposed to be a team and we're supposed to help each other. But, now Jason is killing Hank and everyone else wants to go after Jason. And now you want to help! I don't want to lose more of you guys. You guys are the only family I have." Gar's voice grows defeated and he didn't think being a Titan would look like this.

You pause for a few seconds and Gar never yells. "You know I wouldn't do anything involving Jason without thinking it through. Dick will know what to do and I'll make him promise not to kill him. We go after Jason to get to his partner. We get the partner and we get Jason. I have a plan."

"You do?" Gar asks cautiously, unsure if you're just saying it to make him feel better.

"Of course, I do." You huff. "I didn't sleep. I was thinking. Dick is not going to like my plan and neither are you. But I have a plan. You guys are my only family, plus Molly, I get it. Fuck Hank, ya know? But he was one of the Titans." You shake your head. "I give up on bailing him out of this shit but I'm not giving up on trying to help." You suck in a breath. "He wouldn't if it were me."

"Yeah, true." Gar nods softly. "So, you're just...going to tell Dick about the drug and his partner?" Gar asks.

"Yep." You nod. "That is going to be a fun conversation." You roll your eyes. "Wonder if he'll lecture me then or later about the drug." You offer a soft smile to Gar who just glares. "Yeah, yeah, yeah I know. It was dumb." You mock. 

"Yeah, seriously, please don't go do that again." Gar states softly.

"Of course, not. We see where that leads us." You widen your eyes, looking back to the suit. 

"Right." Gar nods slowly before taking in a deep breath. "I'm...I'm gonna make a pizza, do you wanna help?" Gar asks.

"Uh, I'm okay. I'm just gonna wait for Dick to get back. Rip the band-aid off type of deal."

Gar nods softly. "Let me know how it goes." Gar smiles softly before he heads out of the Batcave.

You sit on the front steps of the manor, waiting for Dick to get home from taking Dawn to the airport. You run through a whole speech to give to Dick. There is still that fear that if you tell Dick about Crane, maybe Crane will snap and think Jason turned on him and he'll have him killed. Crane is completely insane and that could happen. But, you know it's the right thing to do anyway. It might feel like a betrayal and it is. But, you have to do it. You just hope that when Jason finds out you went to Dick, one day he'll understand. Maybe when he's sober he'll understand. Jason can be really understanding and forgiving. You beg he'll understand one day.

The black car pulls right up to the manor and Dick spots you as you straighten your posture. He shuts the car off and sucks in a deep breath. You sitting on the front steps, seemingly waiting for him, seems like it's going to be bad news. Anytime you want to talk to him, it's usually something not good. Dick lets out a sigh, hanging his head for a second before pulling the keys from the ignition and exiting the vehicle. He walks up to the front steps, looking down at you as you offer him a nervous grin.

"Hey." You state cautiously.

"What's going on?" Dick asks.

You clear your throat as you get to your feet. "If I tell you who Jason is working with and what the drug does....can you promise me something?" You ask as Dick's eyes widen slightly.

Of all people, he didn't ever really expect you to come clean with anything.

"What is it?" Dick asks.

"Um...can you promise you won't kill him and that Kory and Conner won't either?" You ask as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "I know, okay? I know what he just did was fucking fucked, okay? I know. But...it's not...it's not really all him and I just...he's your brother and you took me in. And I...I don't..." You shake your head. "I can't lose him again, okay? So, you gotta promise you guys won't kill him and that we'll do everything in the world to make sure this shit doesn't get him killed again, okay? That's the only way I can tell you anything."

"I don't want to kill him." Dick's words are stern. "He just killed Hank." Dick pauses and he sees your eyes water and your weight shift between your feet. Jason was Dick's responsibility and some of this is still on Dick. "Okay." Dick nods. "I won't kill him and I'll talk to Kory."

That's all you needed to start talking. All you needed was the confirmation that they're going to make sure Jason doesn't die again. Jason still deserves a chance here. Everything is a mess and he's really messed up big time but that doesn't mean he shouldn't get a chance at something better. And at the end of it all, you still think Jason deserves his chance at being happy and safe and healthy. He just needs to get through this shit.

"Okay." You say hesitantly. "Um...so, you know Jason likes to play games." You states. "Well, the formula, the reason you didn't know what it was, it was coded. It was just a game. I think he expected you to find it." You explain. "But, then you gave it to me and I brought to a friend of mine who's a genius and he helped me crack it."

"He coded the damn formula and you figured it out?" Dick questions.

"Yes, he did and no, Tim did which by the way," You laugh softly. "Good luck with that one. He knows you're Nightwing, Robin 1.0. Jason was Robin 2.0. I'm Bluejay and Bruce is Batman. I denied it but he's got research on all of us and the Titans. He knows. So, good luck with that, dumbass."

Dick blinks at you for a second. He was so careful, how could someone figure out who he is? Bruce was even more careful than he was. No one has ever figured it out and now you suddenly know someone who knows? How did that even happen? Dick really does not have time for this.

"What? How does he know?" Dick almost demands.

"Yeah, uh, you can perform a trapeze trick that only you and your dad could perform. Nightwing also performs that same trick. Like I said, figure out you're Robin and the other pieces just come together." You shrug. "Which is how he figured the rest of us out. So, good job. I denied it of course but let me tell you, he's a genius and he definitely isn't going to let it rest. We used to guess who Robin and Batman were. He had theories and so did I. So, good luck dealing with that."

"Great." Dick scoffs. Dick can't help but think coming back to Gotham might have been a little bit of a bad idea. How he is stuck dealing with all of this at the same time? Can't he just catch a break? "Continue."

"Right, so he cracked it for me and it's fear. So, naturally, I go to his lab and make the drug and I take it."

Dick lets out a sigh as he looks to the ground. "I can't believe you went and made and then took Jason's drug. What if it were a setup?" Dick places a hand on his hip and you almost laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't do drugs and that's bad science. Lecture me later. That's not the point of this." You scrunch your nose. "Well, I didn't feel scared or paranoid or worried. I didn't feel much of anything besides anger. That was still there. So, Jason made a drug that cures fear."

Dick watches you carefully and he only knows one person that could make a drug that could cure fear. "You've got to be kidding me." Dick holds the bridge of his nose. "Jonathan Crane." Dick scoffs. "He's working with Jonathan Crane?" Dick nearly starts yelling.

"Yep." You roll your eyes. "So I confronted him. That's when I found Hank and I yelled at him and questioned why he'd work with Crane. He said Crane helped him and made him better, that Crane actually cares about him unlike you, Bruce, and me. So, he's been working with Crane and making an anti-fear drug and Crane is manipulating him and doing a damn good job." You explain. "He was high the day he went after the Joker. It's what got him killed. I think Crane probably planned for it. Expected Jason to die that night and the only one not in the loop was Jason."

"So, Crane could use the excuse of him bringing Jason back." Dick finishes. "Why would Jason go to Crane in the first place?" Dick asks and for the life of him, he can't figure out what would lead Jason to Crane.

Jason has always been troubled and had his issues but this just seems crazy. Jason knows the risks of Jonathan Crane, Dick does. At least Jason going after the Joker finally makes sense. Dick knows Jason wasn't that reckless but working with Crane?

"He was freezing on patrol. Getting hurt all the time. Nightmares, shaking hands. His leg pain was still there. Bruce took Robin away. Dick, it was bad for him. Like...really fucking bad. I guess he was desperate enough. I had no idea he was doing this shit. I was ready to call you and come back, with him."

Dick pauses for a few seconds as he starts to think and he knows why Crane has been so helpful now. It's to put the entire target on Jason and keep Crane out of the limelight until the time is right. It's how Crane always functioned and Jason and Dick fell right into the trap.

"Okay, so, why did he target Hank and not you? You know. You took his drug. Crane is going want to seclude him from everyone that cares about him. That's not Hank, that's you." Dick points out and he's also trying to make sure you're really coming clean. At the end of the day, you've been the one on Jason's side and it's hard for Dick to believe you're just turning over a new leaf over Hank Hall.

"Oh, have no fear, Dickolas, thought of that, too." You state. "Hank was enough to set the Titans off. Piss everyone off and target Jason entirely, leaves Crane out of it. As for me, though, I think Jason still has a line and I'm the line. I threw the first punch yesterday, not him. We both know if Jason didn't pull his punches, I'd have more than a few bruises. But, I think Crane is trying to turn him against me, too. Like you said, seclude him."

"What did he say?" Dick asks.

"Um...that I liked him better before? That Crane was right about me. Whatever the fuck that means. He also said I was using him?" You roll your eyes. "I think Crane is trying but there's a part of Jason that knows it's bullshit."

"Right, okay." Dick nods. "So, how does the drug work? If he can refrain from hurting you, couldn't he refrain from killing Hank?"

"I don't think it works like that. He asked me if I wanted to help and I almost did because I was already mad at Hank. I would never do that otherwise. It's like the only thing you want to do is hurt someone else because it's thrilling. You don't feel much of anything but anger when something sets you off. And it can be something small that sends you into a rage, it did for me. I'm thinking it works the same for Jason. I didn't care that I was hurting him or that we were fighting. I didn't care. I didn't even care that he was gonna kill Hank. But, I still didn't want to hurt him. There was something that still kept me from actually physically hurting him. I could have but I didn't. I think he has some restraint but I think if Crane picks at those parts of him, he'll crack."

"It's the exact opposite of the fear gas while still letting Crane reap the benefits." Dick lets out a scoff, almost mad at himself he didn't figure it out sooner. "Jason said Crane was right about you." Dick states. "Did Jason tell him about all of us?"

"I don't know. We didn't really talk about it but I'm guessing he did. I'm not sure what else he would mean by Crane being right about us."

"That's why Crane is helping him. Jason gets the cure to fear and Crane gets information on all of us and Bruce." Dick shakes his head. "It's a mutual benefit." Dick scoffs and he's growing more mad at Jason for going to Crane in the first place. If Jason wanted to fuck up his life, that's on him but now he's dragged everyone else down with him. And for what?

"Yep." You nod your head. "Look, Crane is gonna lose it eventually, it's what he does. We gotta get to Jason before that happens. I don't know how to do that alone. It's one of the reasons I'm telling you."

"I'm guessing you have an idea though."

"Well, if we break into Arkham and kill Crane..."

"No." Dick states. "We're not going to kill him."

"But, literally all of our problems would be solved if you let me do it." You nod. "Like, ya know, in and out. Boom, dead. Jason comes back home. It's a win."

"We're not killing people." Dick states. "Besides, we'll need Jason first. If he's as far gone as it sounds, he'll think we're doing it to spite him and then what? We need to know what Crane has planned. The last time Crane was up to something, he had the entire system rigged with his fear gas. If you go and kill him before we know the plan, he could release the new drug and then what happens?"

You narrow your eyes but nod. "Yeah, that's true. I didn't think of that. So, what do we do then?" 

"Well, I'll need to get to Crane." Dick states.

"We." You correct him as you cross your arms. "You're not gonna do this alone. It involves Jason so you involve me. If not, any new information I get, I keep to myself."

Dick doesn't want you involved. None of this should even be the Titans business. This should remain between him and Jason. Based on everything Crane has already told Dick, putting this on Jason, it does seem as though Dick is supposed to be Jason's target somewhere down the line. It's supposed to be between them. But, you've lodged yourself in the middle of it and he remembers San Francisco.

"Fine, but you do what I say." Dick warns.

"Deal." You mock him with wide eyes.

Just then Dick gets a phone call from Babs. Apparently, there was a targeted attack on Crane last night in Arkham by Red Hood. For his own safety, he's being transferred today to Blackgate. And Dick thinks you don't have to break him out. He'll already be accessible.

"Go get your suit. I have a plan." Dick states as he turns back towards the car.

"Uh...yeah, okay?" You question quickly before you spin around and dart into the manor before Dick can change his mind.

Dick and you head off to Arkham Asylum as you wait for Crane to be transferred. On the way, Dick clued you in on what was going on and what Babs told him. Dick's new plan is actually to kidnap Crane and hold him hostage. You and Dick are going to lure Jason out to the cabin where some of their Robin training took place. It's secluded, away from everyone else who could get hurt and Jason will know exactly where to go. Dick knows those woods like the back of his hand. It's an even playing field for the two of them. And you're thrilled.

You have yet to meet Crane face to face but you already hate him. You hate what he did to the city even if you admire the creativity of a fear gas. But, he's insane and you've got a real problem with anyone who turns other innocent people into monsters, especially by using their own pain against them. It's exactly what he's been doing to Jason. Holding Crane hostage, might be fun for you. And at the end of this, maybe it'll work and you'll get Jason back. But, you're trying not to bank on that. The plans don't always seem to go as planned.

The two of you watch as the guards bring out Crane and that's when Dick gives you the all-clear. The two of you head off towards the transport van, sneaking around pillars and other cars to remain undetected. Dick is the first to make the move and grab the guard near the driver's side of the van. You then go after the one coming from the back of them. Dick and you both knock the two men unconscious and leave them on the ground before heading to the back of the van.

Dick takes down the last guard before he opens the back of the van to reveal Jonathan Crane looking somewhere between confused and worried. Your fists ball at your sides as your teeth grit and he's definitely made his way to the top of your list.

"Let's go." Dick states turning around and walking away.

You glare at him for a few more seconds and you debate for just a split second on shooting acid at him or throwing a knife. One swift move and it'd be over for him. It would be over for Jason. But Dick is right. If he has something planned to poison the city, you need to know. So, you roll your eyes and turn around, following Dick to the car while Crane scurries out of the van to follow the two of you. 

Dick opens the passenger door for Crane while you get in the back. Crane offers you a displeased smile as you grimace at him. Dick gets back in the car, sending you a quick but warning glance before he starts the car again.

The drive is quiet at first, Dick and you wanting to not say a word to Crane or each other with him in the car. Instead, Dick focuses on just getting you all to the cabin and how he'll handle the aftermath of everything. You, on the other hand, think about how mad Jason is going to be when he finds out you're here. It's going to be another problem to sort out but he'll understand later because he has to. And you focus all of your anger and worry on Crane. The hit was on purpose so Jason could break him out which means some part of their plan is coming together and you focus your anger on that. It's a lot easier to be angry with Crane than worry about Jason and how this plan could go south.

After awhile though, apparently, Crane gets tired of the quiet.

"I'm an Alfa man myself. Those Italians, those lines, that flair...the sprezzatura. It's a term. It means the art of making something complicated look easy. Like that trail of bodies you guys left back there. You didn't even break a sweat, did you? Like old pros. See, now that is sprezzatura." Crane states with ease but he pauses for a second, looking over to Dick and spotting a gun. "Look, I don't need to worry about that piece you nicked from the B.O.P. back there, do I? I mean you wouldn't shoot a bound and defenseless man now, would you?"

"Depends." Dick keeps his eyes on the road, offering Crane no emotion.

"I would." You state with enthusiasm from the backseat.

Crane looks back at you with a slight scowl. "That is not very nice."

"I'm not nice." You quip with a chortle.

"So, just bad cop and bad cop, huh?" Crane asks but all he gets is a shrug and an eyebrow raise from you. "Are you his little sidekick?"

"No." You scoff. "Shut the fuck up before I make you."

Dick glances in the mirror, giving you another warning look. You mock the look right back.

"She is a feisty one, isn't she?" Crane looks at Dick.

"Shut up." Dick groans.

Jason saw you with Dick as you left Arkham. That little voice is the back of head that Crane has triggered gets a little bit louder. Of all people, you're going to work with Dick. He's told you to stay out of it but you won't. You know Jason is going to go after Dick and yet here you are, kidnapping his new mentor who actually cares about him with Dick. With his older brother. The original Robin. That's when Jason is piecing together maybe you have ditched your loyalty to him and moved with the Titans. You swore you wouldn't and he is ready to explode.

Jason: teaming up with Dick now?

He doesn't know why he texts it. He doesn't know exactly why he's going to bother because you'll lie to him anyway. You always swore you wouldn't but he knows if you are working with him, you'll lie to him. But, there's something inside of him that has to ask you anyway. He wants to know why. You hated Hank, too. And in that moment of being high, you understood it. That can't be the only reason you'd suddenly be on Dick's side. You're never on his side.

You: no.

Jason nearly groans out loud with the simple response.

Jason: why are you with him then? kidnapping crane?

You: involves you, Dick is pissed about Hank just making sure you don't kill each other

Jason doesn't buy it. It is never as simple as making sure people get along with you. That was always Gar's job. If it were about making sure they don't kill each other, you'd have Gar. That's not it. Jason is starting to wonder if you're just going after Crane. Maybe Crane is your target and Jason is Dick's. Maybe you're in this together. You and Dick have to be.

You: maybe I want a shot Crane

Jason grins softly at his phone as he looks up the gloomy sky above Gotham. Jason isn't going to let you kill Crane and he's betting Dick won't either. Dick is smarter than that and he'll know there's a bigger plan and Crane won't give it up. But, he finds it amusing because maybe that is just your motive. It is a very you motive to have in order to tag along.

Jason: you won't kill him

You: lol that a bet?

Jason: I'm serious

You: So am I

Jason: be careful

You: you be careful

Jason: this is between us not you Jason: if you're there for Crane leave dick to me

He says it on purpose. Fine, if you want your shot at Crane, you can take it. Jason knows you won't do it. You didn't get to kill the Joker and you think Crane is bad for Jason and he's turning Jason into something he's not. Jason firmly believes you'd offer Jason the shot instead of taking it yourself. So, he says it on purpose just to see if you'll actually go after Crane or if you'll go against Jason and protect Dick. He says it just to see which side you're really on. If you protect Dick, he has his answer and Crane is right.

You: involves you so it does involve me and yeah that wasn't convincing. Don't kill him that's tragic just like I said in San Fran two Robins fighting 

Jason: stay out of it

You: don't fucking shoot me

Jason: how do you know I'll show up?

You: revenge on Dick, we have Crane, I'm here, you can't resist a good challenge

Jason: lol yeah

You put your phone back in your pocket and keep your conversation between you, just that. Crane doesn't need to know he texted you. That might be bad. But, you already have a feeling what Jason is doing. Ever since he came back, it's been about what side you're on. He's making you choose and while you're here with Dick, you're just trying to do what's in Jason's best interest. Despite your conversation with Gar, you aren't giving up. You aren't completely picking sides. If this blows up and Jason gets away, you can always keep to the story that you were just there to make sure they didn't kill each other. What Jason doesn't know, can't hurt him.

The speakers start ringing through the car as Dick glances to the screen. Dick's lets out a sigh before he tabs the answer button on the screen.

"Hello?" Dick states.

"Where are you, Dick?" Barbara asks.

"Change of plans." Dick states and you want to know how he's able to remain so emotionless.

"Bring Crane back." Barbara demands.

"I will." Dick states casually.

"I'd get that in writing if I were you." Crane states.

"Shut up!" You groan.

"You brought Y/n with you, seriously? And is that him listening?"

"I volunteered." You chime.

"Yo, Babs." Crane chimes back.

"Jesus, Dick. I need Crane back here right now."

Dick looks to Crane and he's definitely not bringing Crane back. "Gotta go." Dick states before he hangs up, earning a snort from you.

"She's gonna kill you." You chuckle.

"I overheard the police talking about what happened...to that Hawk fellow." Crane states.

Dick scrunches his face, taking a harsh turn around a corner, you grabbing the Oh Shit handle from the back.

"Red Hood is a monster. We've both got proof of that now. But I can still help you. You know, just let me know what I can do."

"You can shut up." Dick states. "Enjoy the sprezzatura."

You smile widely from the back seat. You like this version of Dick. It's more fun.

After a while longer in the car, you finally start to pull into the woods. You adjust yourself to look out of the window as Dick drives. He's driving through a clearing but it is surrounded by trees and overgrown grass. Sometimes, you forget the insanity Bruce put Jason and Dick through in order to let them be Robin but as you watch the trees grow thicker the further Dick drives, you remember. Jason didn't talk much about the cabin. The most he said was that it was brutal. Maybe a part of you doesn't want to know what he went through.

Dick finally stops the car outside of a chain that's chained to two posts, blocking off the rest of the path.

"Let me go." Crane states.

"Not gonna happen." Dick says.

Dick gets out of the car, leaving Crane and you. Dick unlocks the chain while Crane decides he's going to try and make a run for it. He glances back to you before quickly unlocking the door and bolting out of the car as quickly as he can with his hands still cuffed in front of him. You start laughing as you get out of the back of the car, resting your arm on the open door.

"Oh, so he's stupid, stupid?" You cackle as you look over to Dick.

"Guess so." Dick chuckles, jerking his head toward the woods. "Bruce has the place rigged. He has to know that." Dick says, amusement in his voice as you btoh start walking in the direction Crane ran.

"Yeah, that's what Jason said." You laugh softly. "Part of your training was to avoid them." You mock softly as you hear Crane yell from a few yards ahead of you. "So, Crane failed."

"Jason told you about this place?"

"Just that and that it was brutal. He told me about the other stuff, not really this." You suck in a breath, watching the leaves crunch beneath your shoes. 

The two of you find Crane strung up in a net in the trees. Dick sticks his hands in his pockets looking only mildly amused while you're on the verge of bursting into a fit of laughter. If it were up to you, you'd just leave him there and let the birds of prey get to him. A slow and painful death sounds perfect for him.

"You're supposed to be smart but you didn't think there would be a trap?" You question as you look up to Crane who just glares down at you.

"Are you done now?" Dick asks, looking up to Crane.

Crane scowls at you btoh. Dick goes to cut him down and offers no warning before Crane falls right to the ground. You start laughing as you watch Crane groan from the ground.

"I find that funny." You beam down at him.

"You're not pleasant." Crane glares back at you.

"I know." Sam shrugs cheerfully. "Neither are you." You widen your eyes to mock him.

"Get up." Dick grabs Crane by the arm, dragging him to his feet. "Are you having fun?" Dick asks you.

"Yes, yes I am." You basically skip as the three of you start walking.

"Ah, is this where you carve up your victims?" Crane asks after a few minutes of walking, Dick pushing him from the back.

"Just keep walking." Dick states.

"Dick wouldn't make a good Leatherface. He's too nice." You grin wildly back at Crane before you gain a pep in your step. You don't see it but Dick almost grins.

The three of you get to the cabin and Dick plops Crane in a chair at the table before he chains him to the table. You take a seat at a chair to the left of Crane, mostly so he's in hitting distance in case he tries something again.

"It's not what you think it is." Crane warns. "Look, I had nothing to with what happened to your friend. What's his name, Hawk?"

"You don't get to talk about him." Dick threatens.

"It was Red Hood who did it. The kid's a monster."

You grit your teeth as Crane speaks. Jason isn't a fucking monster. He was never a monster. He was never a poison. He was never bad. He was always just a victim of everything around him and you're sick of people making him out to be this horrible, no good, and irredeemable person because that is not Jason Todd. And it shouldn't ever be.

"Bullshit! You were the one that made Jason into a monster." Dick yells back and a part of you almost lets out a breath of relief because finally, someone else sees it. "The attack at Arkham was a phony. It wasn't a hit. It was just an excuse to get your ass out of Blackgate. Red Hood's your protege. And I know he's coming here to save you."

"You may be overestimating him."

"He'll come. He knows this place." Dick states. "Bruce took him here, too. It's where he trained us." Dick says before he opens one of the cabinets, revealing monitors with feeds to cameras around the property. "We'll see him coming a mile away."

It's as if every time you find something more about Bruce, the more you think he's insane. You're pretty sure he didn't really need that many monitors or need to throw kids into the woods to train them.

"So, why would he walk into a trap?" Crane asks.

"Because he can't help himself. Because you made him feel invincible. Because I brought her." Dick glances to you and you almost scoff. You're only here because you have information and the ability to continue to get information.

"You think I changed him? Oh, buddy, no. I got news for you. That kid came to me broken, okay? All I did was rebuild him. And it was easy, too after what you did to him in SF. And that Titans business, what a twisted mind-fuck. I kind of wish I'd actually thought of that myself." Crane looks to you. "And you're using another kid. How did that work out last time?"

"He's not using me you fucking prick. He didn't want me to come." You grit your teeth at him. "Jason was never fucking broken."

That's the thing that even Jason never got. He was never broken. He wasn't damaged goods and he wasn't a poison. He was just Jason Todd and he had his problems but he wasn't broken. He was hurt and there is a very big difference between being broken and damaged and just being hurt. He never needed to be fixed.

"You didn't fucking fix him. He never needed to be fucking fixed. You just made him worse and then convinced him he was fixed." You bite back.

"Oh, is that right? Tell me, why didn't he come to you? He's better now, isn't he? He told me all about you." Crane taunts in a way that is almost effortless.

"No, he's not better and I'm willing to bet he didn't." You suck in a breath, trying desperately not to let Crane win. But, you really were never good about maintaining your temper when it comes to people you love.

"Acid generation, held captive, tortured. Dick found you. All that SF stuff, you were there. Right with him. You couldn't save him then."

Dick almost expects you to finally snap. Jason told Crane about you and that should have been his line to never cross. You have done everything in your power not to cross the line to loop Dick in and Dick actually wants to help. But then you just start grinning because if that's all Crane knows then he doesn't know everything. Which means, Jason was always just trying to keep you at a distance from him. A part of him didn't trust Crane enough and you're hoping you can peck at that like Crane's been doing to every other part of Jason.

"Yeah, all true." You nod your head. "But, you're wrong about him. And you're wrong about Dick, too." You deflect, trying not to give away Jason hiding something from him.

Dick takes his chance to get the conversation away from you. You shouldn't be bullied by Crane and you might snap if Crane continues. "It's not true. Whatever Jason told you."

"Isn't it? Isn't that what you do to all the young people that you fail? Abandon them. Or kill them. How is that little witch girl, by the way?" Crane questions. "Or the mute boy. Oh." Crane scoffs. "You must be so sorry about all of that now."

Dick isn't going to play into Crane's hand, it's what he wants. "Time to eat." Dick tosses him an unopened can of food "Watch him. I'm gonna get some wood." Dick states as he puts on his coat and heads out.

You watch as Crane looks at the label and rolls his eyes. As far as you're concerned, he should be thankful Dick tossed him any type of food to begin with. You wouldn't be feeding him. But you admire Dick's ability to stay calm and not feed into Crane's bullshit.

On the way to Arkham to grab him, Dick gave you an entire run down of dos and don'ts. Your research into him is just what Bruce had but it's nothing compared to actually meeting him as he tries to get inside of everyone's heads. Dick made it clear that Crane would try to say anything to convince you to side with him. He warned you about him being charismatic and a master manipulator, even though that part was in Bruce's file. And while you're listening to him, you do wonder why Dick is so good at it or at least pretending to be good at it.

"So, whose side are you really on?" Crane asks. "I find it hard to believe you're really working with Dick here."

"I guess you'll find out, won't you? Or does it matter? I'm guessing you told Jason I wasn't on his side anyway." You lean back in your chair as you cross your arms.

"Aren't you?" Crane asks. "You're here with him. Trying to use me to capture him. That does not sound like you're on his side." Crane raises his brows as if he's trying to seem innocent in his reasoning.

"I'm always on his side. You just like to manipulate people. Saving him from you is on his side. Me and Dick just have a mutual interest in the situation." You keep your voice level, trying to mimic Dick.

"Do you think he'll believe you? He hasn't taken your side yet. Like I said, he's a monster." Crane offers a delicate shrug of his shoulder and it almost sets you off. And Crane knows it because calling Jason broken already did.

"He's not a monster. You are. People who are manipulated and drugged into doing monstrous things are not monsters. But good try." You quip back.

"Drugged?" Crane questions, acting confused and you know you slipped.

How does Dick deal with him without giving anything away? But you're also good on your feet. You've always been good at thinking of lies and believable ones.

"Don't play dumb. That's how you got to him, right? Has to be. There's no other reason he'd be doing all of this. Jason gets tortured and ends up with PTSD. He dies, comes back, and works with you and now he's suddenly not having any PTSD symptoms. It's a drug, right? You said you fixed him." You shrug your shoulders as Crane gains a cornered grin.

"You are confident, aren't you? Tell me, what do you think he'll do when he sees you here? Do you think he will really just walk away from it all? I have news for you, you're not that important to him." Crane sneers back as you're starting to get under his skin.

"I know." You state, letting yourself hurt. If you don't sound hurt, he can go back and tell Jason you don't care. "But it's worth a shot anyway. And I want you to know, you are only alive right now because Dick is here. You're on my list."

"That's right. Bluejay, the hero turns killer. Sound familiar? You birds think you're above people like me but three of the four of you are killers now. Look how similar we are."

"Bruce killed a homicidal psychopathic sadist. I kill people who kill and hurt kids. You turned Jason into a killer. We are not the same."

"Are you making the rules for killing now? Oh, that's good. How's that working out for you? Do you think after this is over, Dick will let it slide? All the Titans? I think you'll be in a cell right next to mine."

"Nope. Nice try though. You can't manipulate me as much as you try." You offer him a sarcastic grin.

"How's this: your boyfriend came to me instead of you. He trusts me with his secrets more than you. He hasn't even looped you in or tried to get you on our side. He told me all about how you got together, too. He told me about your little friend Gar. The green fella. How you picked him over Jason. That's a cruel thing you did." Crane explains as you can feel your blood start to boil. "Honestly, he does deserve so much better than you just for that alone. You know, he hasn't mentioned you since. Looks like he means more to you than you do to him. Maybe he was the one using you." Crane shrugs his shoulders easily.

It shouldn't bother you because Crane is just doing what he does. He's trying to get under your skin to get you to snap or side with him. He's trying to get you to reveal your weaknesses so he can use them against you. You know. But, it's really difficult because even Crane saying it is confirmation to you. You know Jason deserves better. It was always a thought you had the entire time. But, it was the fact Jason chose you anyway and you chose him. Now, you're here though where it feels more like Crane might have a point. You aren't going to give that away though.

You lean forward towards Crane. "Look, I need you to understand this: I am coming for you. You can say whatever you want about Jason and why he came to you and whatever you wanna think. But one thing is certain, you are not going to make it out of this alive, Crane. I made a promise the day he died. I was going to come for every single person that made Jason Todd feel like he was not good enough, that he had something to prove, that made him believe he were a monster. I'm coming for you. You're alive now because of Dick, that is it. But once Dick gets what he wants, I'm going to kill you. Your days are numbered." You huff as you lean back in your seat.

"You won't do it." Crane taunts. "I matter to that boy of yours. You won't want him to leave you based on you not being able to control your killer instincts. I helped him with a cure. Do you think he'll forget that?"

"Then I'll live with the consequences. He'll understand one day and if I lose him, fine. But at least you can't fucking hurt him anymore."

"Like you have? It seems you've hurt him the most by not trusting him. I bet he's just devasted by you being here with Dick."

"Fuck you." You scoff.

"Yeah, that's right. You pretend to talk a big game but I know who you really are. You only look out for yourself. I get it. I really do. You had no choice out there on the streets and with your abusive foster father. It's your defense mechanism. Killing me isn't for Jason, it's for you. You can claim you saved him from me, a way to get to him and control him, use him the way you always have. Whenever something goes wrong, you go to him, don't you? You used him for the manor and the money. The weapons."

You suck in a breath and you think maybe Dick is just a better person than you are. He is, at the very least, more patient.

You get up and take a right hook to Crane's face as Crane yells out. You lean down, putting your hands on your knees. "You don't know who the fuck I am. Stop pretending like you do. Everything I do is not for me."

Crane spits blood onto the floor. "Really? Because this whole conversation you haven't said a word on how you feel about our boy. It's been about what you're going to do."

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to tell you how I feel about Jason? Or any details about us? You'll use it against me and him and I'm not desperate. I'm not falling for it. You don't get to know a damn thing about us from me."

"I already do." Crane grins wildly. "And I know how to get him to turn on you. I really hoped maybe you would come around to our side but...Jason will figure it out. I'll make sure of that."

You shouldn't do it and you know you shouldn't but you straighten your stance, pull your fist back, and punch him in the face again.

"You are so annoying." You groan as you take a step back just as the door opens.

Dick spots Crane hunched over in pain, spitting more blood onto the floor and you looking significantly more annoyed than when he left.

"Really?" Dick questions as he walks back in carrying firewood.

"If you didn't see that coming, that's on you, Dickolas." You sigh as you sit back down. "It was two punches, he's fine."

"I'm in pain!" Crane yells, gesturing with his cuffed hands.

"Oh, boo-hoo." You scrunch your face. "You're fine." You roll your eyes as you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms.

Dick ignores the bickering as he gets the fire going. The room starts to fall silent but with Jonathan Crane around, the room can't remain quiet for very long. Apparently, Crane wants to try and work Dick again.

"So, what's your plan here?" Crane asks.

"I told you. Wait for Red Hood and take him out."

"No, I mean, I mean in Gotham. You stepping into Daddy's shoes? Now don't get me wrong, I mean, you know, we all want to please our parents. That's why I became a doctor. You see how well that worked out, right?" Crane chuckles softly.

"You actually think we're the same?" Dick asks as he takes off his coat.

"No, no, no. What I'm saying is that we all get stuck on this hamster wheel," Crane sighs. "Trying to live up to the expectations of others. We always think that it's gonna turn out...different but the outcome is somehow always the same."

"And is that what you told Jason?" Dick asks.

"No, I'm talking about you. You come back here and you wanna bathe Gotham in blood as if that's somehow a better outcome than anything that Batman ever did. Bruce was a psychopath. He was using fear to control everyone, including his sons. I mean, he did it to Jason and he did it to you. And you and Jason, you both use that fear. You wield it like a weapon, but it hurts people, right? It hurts people that you care about. Like Hawk. It's still Bruce's game. Isn't it? It always has been." Crane pauses as the room goes silent. "Is there something on your mind?"

Dick chuckles softly. "Fear is your friend."

"What's that?"

"Bruce used to say it." Dick states. "He said, 'Fear reveals your weakness...and it gives you the chance to make it your strength."

"Hmm." Crane hums. "And him being the man that is, he...needed to make sure that you were afraid, didn't he?"

"I was out here all alone once. Bruce made me go out into the forest by myself for the first time. I had no idea what was out there." Dick starts as he tells the story about being chased by a wolf and being terrified he was going to be eaten alive, Bruce nowhere to help him.

"You were just a boy and those were the lessons that he taught you." Crane lets out a sigh as he shakes his head. "It's not your fault. But you need to make sure that this doesn't happen to someone else. That it stops with you. Now you let Gotham take care of Gotham. The water will find its level. Stop trying to prove something here."

Before Dick can respond, the alarm starts going off about a perimeter break. Your heart sinks with the alarm. Jason really just can't help himself. He has to come and prove something. Maybe, just maybe, Crane might have a point about that, actually. You hate to even think that but...Jason just showed up to prove something. He went to Crane to prove to Bruce he was good enough. Crane might be an asshole but he is making a little bit of a point, actually.

"But, the thing about that is, I've already proved myself." Dick states. "That night when I was a kid...without Bruce." Dick finishes the story, saying he was the one that killed the wolf with all the gory details. "I shouldn't have been afraid of the wolf. The wolf should have been afraid of me. Now, let's get you all fixed up. Company's coming." Dick starts undoing Crane's chains as you sit with wide eyes.

Maybe everyone is a monster. Or capable of being one. Maybe everyone has a monster inside of them but it's about what they use the monster for that actually makes them monstrous or not. Dick had no choice, do or die.

You know the wolf probably just wanted him out of its territory. Wolves have only attacked twice in North America since the early 1900s. Wolves aren't animals to typically fear. He didn't know any better but he was a monster that night to the wolf. And you know Dick isn't a monster. Not at his core. And you aren't either. And you know Jason isn't. But you've all done monstrous things out of self-preservation. Out of fear.

Maybe how people use that fear and those ideas is what makes them a monster. And if that's true, maybe most people can be saved. Maybe the monster just needs to know other ways to deal with the fear that fuels it.

You and Dick suit up once Crane is ready and you both head out to the woods. The plan is to subdue Jason, not kill him and then bring him back. That's it. You'll have him detox from the drug at the manor where it's safe. It'll be a two-on-one fight. And Dick is still a better fighter than Jason. You should be able to do this. So, you both head to the woods and you spot Jason down looking through the scope of a gun. 

Dick and you tread lightly, you staying further off to the side and behind Dick. You don't particularly want to fight Jason again if you don't have to, especially since you're sober. You know you actually might be here more to make sure they don't kill each other and just in case. Which is fine with you. But, as the two of you start to close in on Jason, Crane cuts the lights and Dick steps on a twig making Jason spin around immediately, blocking Dick's first hit. 

Dick tackles Jason, sending the two of them down a small hill. You follow the two of them just in time to see them both get back to their feet. Dick gets his enigma sticks in hand while Jason pulls out two pistols. The two of them start throwing hits using their weapons but the second Jason starts actually firing his gun, you step in.

You come in from the side, taking a kick to Jason's arm which gives Dick the opportunity to hit Jason in the knee. The hit sends Jason to the ground as he kneels, looking up to Dick as you walk beside him.

"Wow, classic moves. You even fight like Bats, huh?" Jason quips.

"Let it rest, Jay." You state and you can't see it, but he's surprised you're here fighting him. With Dick. And he's pissed. He really hoped you would take your shot at Crane even though he knew you wouldn't. You're just on Dick's side, lying to him.

"Not a chance, babe." Jason states. "Thought you wanted your shot at Crane, huh?"

"Yeah, I do but you're the one shooting the gun so." You shrug. "Not worth it." You shake your head softly as Jason grits his teeth under his helmet.

"We'll see." Jason says before quickly taking another shot at Dick, just as Dick moves out of the way.

You kick Jason just as Dick spins around and electrocutes Jason with his enigma stick. Jason falls back to the ground but only for a few seconds before he's back on his feet. He starts firing, trying to follow where Dick is going while you throw a knife, blade towards you at Jason's arm. It knocks his aim off just enough and Dick takes a shot with one of the enigma sticks. He uses it like a boomerang as it flies past Jason and hits his arm on the way back. 

The three of you continue to fight, Jason mostly trying to target Dick and only defending himself against you. But, it's two to one and Jason is growing more annoyed at the entire situation. You know when he's going to fight back and Dick is flipping around. But, he's trying until Dick gets a good hit to his arm, knocking it useless for a few minutes.

Jason is hunched over, holding his arm against his torso while you and Dick stand in front of him. You never wanted him to get hurt here. None of you should be getting hurt, especially at the hands of each other.

"You told Crane everything?" Dick questions. "Everything!?" Dick yells. "This ends here."

"What did you think was gonna happen?" Jason straightens his stance. "After what you did to me. After what you let happen!"

"This isn't on me! You made your own choices."

You take a step back and this is definitely their fight. You were always on Jason's side with what happened. But, it's been hashed out. It was talked through months ago. Whatever mind game Crane played for all of this to resurface is insane. But, you suck in a breath because while the stuff that happened in San Francisco is Dicks' fault, the stuff that's happened here isn't. Not really. It's more Bruce's fault but Bruce is nowhere to be found so you figure Dick is just an easy target. Jason, clearly, doesn't see the irony in that one.

"Like you made yours? Come on, dude, you're just like the old man. A copy. Everything you do. Everything is because of him." Jason says as he throws something at Dick and shoots it sending off a flash bang.

Dick and you get blinded which gives Jason the oppurtunity to take several swings at Dick before he has him in a choke hold, Dick on his knees. Jason holds a gun to his head and for a second, he thinks he's finally won.

"But not for long."

After all of this torturous hell, he's won. This can be the endgame. He gets Dick and he gets to snuff out the person he thinks is responsible for all of his pain. That's what this was about. But, you come back into view with the flashbang wearing off and you stand directly in front of Jason just a few feet away from him.

"Put the gun down, Jason." You grit your teeth.

"You on his side now?" Jason asks.

"Fuck." You groan. "No, but I fucking told you, you're not killing him." You seethe as you pull out a knife. "Let him fucking go, Jason."

"You know what he did!" Jason yells.

"No, I know what he did then and you squashed that shit. The shit that happened here isn't on him. You wanna blame someone then blame me." You shrug as you hold the knife steady and ready to be thrown in a split second.

The words catch Jason off guard. Crane has been telling him this whole time that you're the reason he suffered here. You're one of the reasons. If it weren't for you, it would have just been him getting to be Robin. You were good at it. Maybe Bruce saw you as a way to replace Jason. He never had any problems overcoming anything but you get in the picture and he can't even sleep at night. It all came back to you and now you're standing in front of him taking the blame.

"So, you are with him then, right?" Jason asks and Dick can feel Jason's grip starting to loosen. "You're just like him. You got a suit and now you think you're another bat. Dick's right, this ends here."

"I am always with you." You urge. "But, if you wanna blame someone for the shit here, then it should be me and Bruce, not Dick. So, let him go. You know I won't miss."

"So, try it." Jason threatens, he knows you won't. You would never throw a knife directly at him in case you do miss or he moves or you hit Dick. You wouldn't take the risk with them involved.

"Gotham PD! Drop your weapons!" You all hear from a helicopter above you.

The three of you look up to a spotlight on them. Dick takes the opportunity to grab Jason's arm, the gun firing as Dick grabs him. The gun fires directly at you but luckily, it misses as you dodge it just in time thanks to throbbing in the front of your head. The boys don't notice as they continue their fight and at this point, you're fed up with the two of them. 

"You almost shot me!" You yell and for a second, the two of them freeze, looking at you. "I've had it with you two idiots." You lunge forward and join the fight with the two of them.

The three of you end up fighting each other, you unsure of whose side you're on now. Dick pulled his arm so the gun would aim at you and Jason managed to pull the trigger in the struggle. It's ridiculous but as you all fight each other, a shot goes off from above you and it comes down right in the middle of the chaos, sending Dick off to the left and you and Jason off to the right.

Jason is the first to his feet and he sees you struggling to breathe after having the wind knocked out of you. Despite it all, that voice that tells him to side with you, is louder than usual. Something about seeing you possibly hurt sends his head into a static panic. So, grabs you and starts pulling you into the woods and away from Dick. You groan and you can see Dick still on the ground. If he's not on his feet now but Jason is, you're starting to think he was the one shot in this mess. This whole thing went to shit real fucking quick.

"Let go of me!" You yell, wiggling out of his grasp.

Jason takes a step back, putting his hands up and away from you. "Are you okay?" Jason asks as he takes his helmet off.

You spin around on your butt, eyes wide in disbelief. "Seriously!?" You get to your feet and rip off your mask. "No! I'm not okay! You two almost shot me. You killed Hank. This shit sucks! You're trying to kill Dick and you're thinking I'm turning on you, for fucks sake. What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not everyone else!?"

It's wearing off, he can feel it off. The guilt is washing over him slowly and he hates this feeling. The withdrawal is starting to kick in and he wants to start ripping his hair out. Everything starts to hurt, slowly and steadily.

"Get out of here then." Jason turns around to walk away.

You run up behind him and grab him. He doesn't get to off so easily this time. "Get the fuck off of that drug for one fucking day and tell me Crane is on your damn side. I'm sick of this shit, Jason."

"So, stop following me." Jason turns to face you. 

"Come home." You grit your teeth and you know it's a waste of breath but you try anyway. After talking with Crane and seeing how easy it is to manipulate people, you're more afraid for him than you were before.

"I can't!" Panic seeps into his voice and he hates the way it sounds.

"Bullshit! Yes, you can!" Your voice starts to tremble as your nose scrunches.

He can't. He doesn't belong there. It was never home. They don't want him there. They don't get it. No one believes in him and they don't care about him. Crane has shown that he does. Crane has to be right about them. Jason can't afford for Crane to be wrong. He can't just go home. It doesn't work like that.

"No! Get out of here before Crane finds us! Go!"

The wording catches you off guard. He is worried what Crane will think if you're together. Crane said Jason hasn't mentioned you once and you didn't think too much of it, assuming it was because Jason just had his sight set on whatever the hell Crane wanted him to do. But, maybe Jason just left your name out of it the same way you just did. To protect each other. You need to find a way to work with that. Jason knows, deep down, something is off and you have to get through to that part of him but you don't know how. For the first time since meeting him, you don't know what will work with him.

"Jay," You plead with him. "He's not on your side. He is using you! Just like Bruce did. Please, come with me." You reach for his hand but Jason pulls it away. "Please."

He shakes his head. It's not worn off nearly enough for that to work. It has worn enough though for him to feel for you. "I'm sorry." Jason puts his free hand on your shoulder, searching your face but all he sees is the water brimming in your eyes. "I'm sorry I almost shot you. But, go. Get out of here." His voice is stern but there's a slight quiver to his words.

You shake your head softly as your heart breaks and you wonder how much more your heart can take before it finally just gives up. "Watch your back, Jay." You state softly, lacking any and all venom that should come with those words. "With Crane. I got the Titans, okay? If you have ever trusted me at all, watch your back, please."

"What do you mean you have the Titans?" Jason asks, his brows furrowing as he drops his hand.

"I got them covered, don't worry about them. Worry about Crane." You nod your head softly as you place your hand on his cheek. "Seriously, Jay, be careful." You nod once before you slide your hand from his face and turn around, making your way through the trees and back to where Dick was.

Jason watches you leave and he can't help but wonder what the hell you mean by watching himself with Crane. Of course, he knows you don't trust him. You wouldn't trust anyone like Crane, it's one of the reasons Jason never looped you in before he died. But, this feels different and he doesn't know why. Crane wouldn't tell you anything but you seem genuinely worried and maybe Jason should be questioning Crane a little more. He hasn't told Jason the entire plan yet anyway.

You get back to the clearing but Dick is nowhere to be found. You let out a sigh of relief figuring Dick must be okay if he's not here. So, you start your walk back to the cabin. When you get back, you find Dick standing in the doorway, holding his shoulder.

"You okay?" You ask from behind him.

Dick turns around quickly and for a second, he was worried they took you. You're the one who says you have a habit of being kidnapped. It was that or maybe you did side with them in the end. But, here you are looking absolutely defeated.

"Yeah, you?"

"You're bleeding." You state as you point to the blood leaking around his hand holding his shoulder.

"It's nothing. Are you okay?" Dick questions again.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You two morons missed me." You quip back as you roll your eyes. "You got shot though so that's a problem."

"It's fine." Dick states and suddenly you know where Jason gets it from. They aren't even blood-related and it's always 'it's fine' and 'I'm fine'. "Crane is gone so we need to get back."

"Good luck explaining that to Babs." You suck in a breath, pushing past Dick to grab your things from the cabin. "Sorry." You offer a yikes look based on the scowl you're receiving from Dick.

"Come on, let's go." Dick nods his head towards the door before the two of you head back to the car to get back to the manor.

As you head back to the manor, you're stuck hoping against everything in you that tonight was enough for Jason. It has to be enough to convince him. It has to.

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A/n: There's more Jason in the next chapter and in the rest of the chapters lol I am going into season 4. I have a plan lol We also do circle back to the whole fight between him and the reader later!!

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