#this took me a long time to answer because I wanted to do it justice

[thevoidstaredback]

Just as he had last time, Barry called Wally and Bart to help him comb over the US. He took the Midwest and South; Wally took the Mid Atlantic and New England areas; Bart took Alaska, the Western, and Southwestern states.

"Didn't this happen in your timeline, Impulse?" Wally asked.

"Nope!" Bart answered, "At least I don't think so."

"What do you mean you don't think so?"

"You expect me to know everything that happened throughout the entire timeline?!"

"A little bit, yeah!"

"Boys!" Barry cut in, "Please focus; time is a little bit of the essence."

"No, no, no," Superboy, who was checking the Northern Hemisphere, chimed, "Let 'em argue. It's entertaining."

"Are you sure you don't remember anything from the previous loops?" Superman asked, speaking over the three kid heroes.

Barry found himself rolling his eyes. "Yes, Supes. I'd've told you by now if I remembered-" He stopped short, sliding down the road a few feet.

"Flash?"

"Hold that thought."

"Did you find something?"

"Keep looking; I'm gonna check something real quick." He muted his end of the line. "What in the world..?"

Apparently, there's a castle in Wisconsin.

***

Dick was not having a good time. He thought that he was done dealing with Bruce when he quit! But, no! The bastard just keeps calling!

At least he can still work with Barbara. That's a plus.

Nightwing set up shop in Bludhaven. This was well established throughout not only the city itself, but throughout Gotham and the entire hero community. Sure, he helps out other places, but he mostly stays in Bludhaven. Just because he's close, though, means that Bruce thinks he can jump between the two cities.

He can, but he doesn't want to.

But, orders from Batman must be followed or he'll throw a fit.

How the hell did he put up working with that man?

How the hell does Tim put up with it?

Even in the middle of a potentially Word Ending Crisis, Batman doesn't want any of the other heroes in Gotham, so searching the city falls to Nightwing and Batgirl. Well, it would if she didn't have her own tasks.

He'd seen Kid Flash in passing about an hour ago, just long enough for a speedster-level high-five as they passed by, as he was leaving Bludhaven.

He'd searched his home from top to bottom three times over and there wasn't a single thing out of place there. The US Government had all but abandoned the city when they'd given up on Gotham, so the lack of any government occupation didn't surprise him in the slightest. The people of Bludhaven hated the government enough that a few well placed words on his part now had the entire city on the lookout for the black suited bastards, allowing him to go look in Gotham.

As much as Gothamites hated authority figures, they had nothing on Bludhaven. Sure, they'd been given up on first, but the government still had eyes on the city because of Batman. As long as Batman works for the Justice League, then it isn't a stretch to think that the government has eyes and ears on or in the city.

Finding a base in Gotham will be much harder than finding one in Bludhaven. Not because he doesn't know his way around, but because of the sheer amount of buildings there are. Abandoned, occupied, business, residential, it doesn't matter; every one of them is a potential government occupation camp until proven otherwise. Every person found within the city is a possible government dog until proven otherwise.

Dick sighs. He certainly has his work cut out for him.

Part 7 Part 9

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Epilogue) AND Boston Bears: Fake Out - Rugby Player! Ari x Reader (Part 1 SNEAK PEAK)

Summary: A year has passed since the championship final and it's a rare opportunity to watch Chris play from the stands

Word Count: 707 words

Warnings: Fluff! Mention of Past Sexual Harrassment! Allusion to SMUT! 18+ ONLY

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Epilogue

1 year later

It was very rare for you to watch a rugby game from the stands. You were generally on the sidelines, watching and making sure you were ready to run on at a moment's notice. It meant you could never really properly enjoy the match.

It was a different story today though. Instead of your navy blue Boston Bears tracksuit and medical bib, you were wearing a white jersey with red and blue stripes and Chris’ name on the back.

You cheered loudly from the stands in the French stadium, watching Chris play in the first World Cup match of the tournament. You thought you would be the loudest person in the stadium but to your surprise, Tommi was shouting and cheering much louder than you. 

“He’s off his feet sir!” Tommi shouted gesturing to the ruck.

If you had told her two years ago that she would have travelled all the way to France for a rugby game she would have died laughing. Yet here she was, lots has changed over the last year and a bit.

One major change was Bryce’s career. Exactly a year after you left the Lion the news broke that an investigation was being launched against Bryce for several sexual harassment allegations. The head coach got in touch with you and asked you to provide a testimony on what Bryce had done to you. You had been apprehensive to go through it all again but Chris promised to be by your side the entire time. He even missed a game to do so. Thanks to you and the other women who came forward, Bryce’s career was over. It took a whole year but you finally had your justice.

“Oh my god ref are you blind!” Tommi shouted.

You chuckled and shook your head as you turned your attention back to the game. It wasn’t long until the final whistle blew and the two of you could make your way down to the sidelines.

Chris smiled as soon as he saw you, his chest still heaving as he caught his breath following an intense match. He always looked so sexy after a match, his hair was always a mess, the veins were bulging in his arms. Energy would radiate off of him which made the rest of the stadium disappear.

He walked over to you and enveloped you in a tight hug. Anyone else would feel a little grossed out because of how sweaty he was but you didn’t care. The two of you spent plenty of time getting sweaty together and it never bothered you.

“Sorry that you guys lost,” you said rubbing his biceps soothingly.

He shrugged his shoulders “We knew it was gonna be tough going against the hosts but I think we did well” 

“You did very well, I’m very proud of you” You smiled reaching up to kiss him.

“Thank you sweetheart” he grinned “Knowing you were out there wearing my jersey definitely helped” 

“I can wear it later if you want” you smirked.

“I want you to only wear it, and this of course” Chris smirked as he lifted your left hand, this thumb brushing past the ring on your fingers.

“I think I can do that” you smiled. 

Chris had proposed to you on the anniversary of the championship win. He had admitted that he planned to do it earlier on the anniversary of when you first met but with everything that went down with Bryce, he decided to hold off. It was a beautiful May evening, the stadium was deserted when he led you onto the pitch right to the centre before getting down on one knee and asking you the most important question you’ll ever have to answer. You had barely let him finish when you squealed yes multiple times and tackled him to the floor in a massive hug. The sound of his laughter echoed around the stadium as you landed on top of him. 

“God I love you so much” he beamed as he cupped your cheeks.

“I love you more” you smiled reaching up to first kiss the tip of his nose before landing on his lips, the ones you’ll call home for the rest of your life. 

Boston Bears: Fake Out - Rugby Player! Ari Levinson x Reader

A/N: Just a quick reminder that the reader from Off-Limits has now become an OFC called Elena and Tommi is now our reader!

Word Count: 796 words

Warnings: Language! Mention of Masterbation! Minor Angst!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Boston Bears Masterlist / Masterlist

“Levinson is everything okay?” the head coach questioned with an arched brow “Everything at home?” 

Ari felt his defences go up all of a sudden “Perfect” he stated “Can I go to training now or is there more to say on how I won’t represent my country?”

Once again the head coach didn’t react, nothing more than clench his jaw “No” he said gesturing for Ari to leave. 

Ari did exactly that, storming out of the media room. The door slammed loudly behind him. He couldn’t wait to get to the weight room where he could work through his frustrations which were only getting worse. 

He was so caught up in his anger that he wasn’t really looking where he was going. He turned a corner and ran straight into someone. He looked down to see a woman he didn’t recognise, her hair up in a messy bun, and baggy clothes. She certainly didn’t work here, and only staff and players were allowed in the building.

She stuttered an apology but Ari’s anger and frustration that had been simmering since the match on Saturday boiled over “Who the hell are you? You know you can’t be back here? What are you a fan desperate for an autograph or media desperate for a scoop?” He demanded.

The woman stuttered slightly before completely breaking down in tears. Ari scoffed in frustration and moved to step around her, he’d have to go find security to deal with this. 

He’d just stepped around her when he heard someone speak up behind him “Y/N? What on earth are you doing here?” Elena said.

Ari turned around and saw Chris and Elena standing there. Elena had a look of shock on her face, while Chris was frowning at Ari. He then glanced back down at the woman beside him who was sobbing. It took him a moment but he then recognised you. You were the bombshell that had him by the balls from the moment he met you back in late April. 

“What the fuck Levinson” Chris demanded as Elena rushed over and hugged you. 

“I- I didn’t-“ Ari stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What's wrong? Why on earth are you here?” Elena asked you softly.

“I’m sorry I meant to call yesterday but I forgot and- and-“ you stuttered before breaking down into sobs again. 

“Hey, hey, hey it’s okay let’s get you out of here” Elena said shooting a glare up at Ari before wrapping an arm around you and leading you away.

Chris watched as Elena took you away and out of sight before turning back to Ari “What the hell man? Why’d you yell at her? Why’d you upset her like that?” Chris demanded.

Ari shook his head unable to think of a reason “I didn’t even recognise her” he muttered “I thought she was a crazed fan or something”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at her even if she was!” Chris argued shaking his head at him.

“I know… I- I fucked up” Ari admitted.

Fucked up was an understatement. From the moment he set eyes on you in that hotel bar you captured his attention and never let go. You looked absolutely stunning in the red sundress you’d been wearing, a beautiful smile on your face as you laughed with Elena. He’d felt this tugging sensation that drew him closer and he knew he had to at least say hello. 

He’d been secretly devastated when you held out your hand and showed off your engagement ring. He’d only just met you, he knew nothing about you but he found himself cursing the universe that he’d met you too late. He hadn’t missed his chance, he never had one. Yet despite all that he couldn’t just drop it, he wanted to get to know you, flirt with you. Maybe he hoped that your relationship was on the rocks and he had a chance, that he couldn’t leave LA without even trying. Maybe he hoped it would get you out of his system.

It didn’t.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about you for the last 5 months. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he’d fantasised about you, and thought of you whenever he needed to find a release. Ari was no stranger to finding hookups but he hadn’t even managed to do that because he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

He kicked himself for the way he behaved. If you didn’t want him before, you definitely wouldn’t want him now after he made you cry. His heart ached as he replayed the moment your face crumpled, your left hand moving to cup your mouth as if you could stop yourself from crying.

Wait.

“She wasn’t wearing her ring” Ari muttered as he looked over at Chris.

A/N: I am so sad to be sharing the offical ending of Chris' story but so excited to share the first proper sneak peak into Ari's story which will go live in the New Year!!! and for those of you who will miss Chris and his medic as you can see they will definitely be featuring in future stories! See you in the New Year!

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated! Same goes for Masterlist, AO3 and Wattpad!

Off-Limits Series Masterlist / Boston Bears Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

[legend-of-laurel]

don't know if the link will work but just two minutes before coming across the plastic surgery post you reblogged i read this. tumblr(.)com/ovaruling/707161429796618240/i-know-we-are-all-critical-of-buccal-fat-removal. people (primarily women/girls) have almost died or even literally died due to unnecessary cosmetic surgery. now feminists shouldn't even criticize but have to accept any and every cosmetic surgery? what ethical doctor would do this to a patient? this is the right side of history?

I will preface this answer with a warning that the post the ask references is originally posted by someone who is an alleged TERF. For anyone who doesn’t want to click on the post for that reason, the OP suffered extremely negative physical outcomes from multiple cosmetic surgeries. The post that anon is referencing that I reblogged is this post by @chelonates​: https://chelonates.tumblr.com/post/707168735685935105/chelonates-full-unambiguous-uncaveated-bodily

What happened to OP is deeply tragic. As I said in the tags of the post that I reblogged that presumably sparked this ask, I am also appalled that predatory industries have developed to capitalize off of cis people’s gender dysphoria/body dysmorphia. “Universal access” to body alterations imagines a world where access to these surgeries is not commodified, which I take to mean as not-for-profit. This would remove incentives that surgeons like those that OP encountered have to lie about potential surgical outcomes, rush procedures, and charge exorbitant fees. It would also remove incentives for deceptive advertising of surgical procedures. It is entirely in line with the post I reblogged, and I personally believe morally correct, to object to the continued practice of surgeons who display those behaviors.

What the post is trying to get at is that it’s not for us -- or anyone -- to decide who is getting cosmetic surgery “for the right reasons”. It is not feasible at a policy level to distinguish between people who are seeking surgical alteration in the pursuit of self-liberation and those are seeking surgical alteration because of social pressure to look a certain way. If, for you, there is any morally acceptable reason for people to seek surgical alteration, then there is no morally acceptable way to limit what kinds of alteration people can seek for themselves. I can’t speak on whether you believe that there are acceptable reasons for people to seek surgical alteration.

The post touches on the fact that there are people out there who believe that trans people have a right to surgical procedures that they feel would be harmful or morally degenerate for cis people (and trans people who do not meet their standards) to seek, or which they believe cis people (and trans people who do not meet their standards) should have to pay for. A corollary to this belief is the medicalization of trans identity, which posits that because “real” trans people are “sick” (”dysphoric”), they can be allowed free (well, or less-cost, if you don’t have universal healthcare) access to surgical procedures that are otherwise commodified and therefore cost prohibitive. I think that this is related to the belief that the “legitimate” trans desire to transition is always extra-social, in that it would exist regardless of whether the trans person in question lived in a society that held certain expectations of gendered presentation, and the cis (and the “not-sufficiently-trans”) desire for surgical alteration is always caused by social pressure and/or mental illness. I would argue, and I feel that the post is subtextually arguing, that there is no feasible way to prove or disprove that transness is extra-social while cis body modification is socially determined, and furthermore that there is no basis for holding up presumed extra-social desires as more good, virtuous, or healthy than socially-determined desires; maybe that there is no basis for differentiating between the two at all.

OP’s decision to pursue cosmetic surgery was not healthy for her and it hurt her. But there is no ethical way to litigate that her decision for cosmetic surgery was less legitimate than any given trans person’s decision to transition in such a way that would have resulted in OP being barred from seeking surgical alteration. Essentially what this boils down to is determining which people are mentally fit to seek certain body modifications and which aren’t, which is unethical no matter how you shake it and will always end up harming both trans people and cis people. It is, however, correct in my opinion to object to and act against both the social pressure to conform to gendered standards of beauty that motivated OP to pursue cosmetic surgery, and to object to and act against the predatory industry that lied to her about the surgeries’ potential effects and which profits off of reinforcing gendered beauty standards. The post I reblogged imagines a changed world with regards to access to surgical modification that can’t be summed up by saying “all current instances of cosmetic surgery are good and beneficial”.

All of this is moot, of course, if you don’t believe that trans people should have access to surgical transition and that all pursuit of external surgical alteration is unhealthy/degenerate (or perhaps, that all performance of external surgical alteration is predatory) and should therefore be banned. This may be where OP is at -- I didn’t look at the rest of her blog. I have a feeling this is not where you are at, anon, because of the way you phrased this ask. If you’re interested in where my thoughts came from, my impetus to form a conscious opinion about this at all came from this PhilosophyTube video.

[churipu]

I love you so so much omg ur posts, ur content, un vibe everything. you’re so so nice and yet you have me crying over every single post because of how good this is. Like yesterday i had a whole debate talking to myself abt how good of a person you were and how the likes were not doing you justice.. usually I never send requests mostly because i’m scared they take a look at it and be like “you cannot be srs”. Idk if it makes sense but oh well😭😭

can i request u make a scenario where the reader is insecure and worried their partner is going to leave them for someone prettier but they dont say anything and just start to distance themselves from them from how big of a toll it was taking on the reader? thank you sm😭🫶🏽

YOU BEING INSECURE + JJK MEN

featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen x reader

warning. cursing

note. ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET OMG BRB SOBBING HAVE ABIG FAT KISS, and i love this request so much, you don't have to worry <33 thank you for requesting my love, sorry it took so long :')

GOJO SATORU. even if gojo didn't seem like the type to be aware of his surroundings — he is very much aware. behind those blindfolds and dark glasses, his eyes darts everywhere, making sure everything is fine. even if one small thing is different to his eyes, he'll notice.

so when you began distancing yourself from him, he notices off the bat. but decided to say nothing just to make sure of it, gojo did not want to jump into conclusions. it started off as you telling him that you're busy to go on dates, or even declining his offers when he wanted to come over to your place.

he didn't think much of it until it visibly worsened, you looked miserable. when he sees you, it was like the shine in your eyes have gone away — gojo didn't know what happened, but he automatically assumed that he was behind the disappearance of it. when he asks you if you were okay, you brushed him off with a forced out smile, and he was dying to push you to just tell him everything.

but he didn't. he was afraid that if he'd push you, it would spiral an argument. for a while, he was walking on eggshells around you, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any minute.

it was gnawing internally in gojo's mind, what did he do? what happened to you? what happened to y/n?

his y/n.

so when shoko drops the bomb on him, asking if he had broken up with you. gojo was mortified, is that what it looks like to other people? him and you calling it off? he was terrified, scared, nervous. the strongest sorcerer. yeah — he was scared.

and so he felt like it was a now or never situation.

"y/n, can we talk?"

you grimaced at his soft voice, wondering if this is the part where he's had enough and decided he'd leave you. but you nodded your head, your mind was ready, you were ready to hear it, those words: "i want to break up with you."

"please talk to me. i can't do this whole...you avoiding me, tell me what's bothering you...please." the desperation in his voice was visible, almost as if he was in the verge of tears.

his cerulean eyes were filled with such hopelessness, one you've never seen even when he was fighting a curse. you widened your eyes and inhaled sharply, "i...i'm sorry, satoru."

that was all you managed to muster up and gojo was clueless, he needed more answers, he needed answers to why you were like this, "baby, i don't... is it me? did i do anything wrong to you? please tell me, don't run away.. let me make it up to you."

it pained you to see that he thinks it was him, when it was you behind this. you shook your head, "'s not you 'ts me."

and that made gojo even more terrified than he already is, a lot of questions spiraling in his mind, did you find someone else? did you get bored of him? were you finally breaking up with him because of his constant bothering? so many questions.

"i just...there're so many more people prettier than i am. i just can't stop thinking about it. you leaving and all. 'm sorry i distanced myself from you." when you said that, gojo felt like half of his questions were all useless and he felt a bit relieved to finally get an answer to his speculations.

gojo wasted no time pulling you into his embrace, he needed it, you needed it. both of you needed it just as much, you felt so small in his embrace, head buried into his chest. gojo didn't move a bit, fearing if he moved at all — you'd break, you looked so fragile and so dainty, it scares him.

"i..love you so much." was all he could say,

"'ts you, 'ts you that i love. it hurts me to hear you talk like that." you felt like shit, you really do — so you said nothing back, you kept your face hidden in his chest.

and gojo didn't pry you away, he just needed to be close to you, "sorry."

that was when he pulled away, "you don't have to be sorry, but please talk to me, 'ts not fair if we're happy together and you have to be sad alone.." you hated crying in front of people, especially gojo, and he knew that about you.

so when you cried in that moment, gojo knew this wasn't something light — he didn't need any more explaining from you, he was just there by your side the whole night. and the next day. the next week. month. year. both of you never spoke of it again.

he's in love with you and nobody could change that, he thinks you're the prettiest anyways.

NANAMI KENTO. nanami's eyes are always on you. nobody else. and everyone knows that.

everyone except for you, unfortunately.

usually he comes home and you were always there to greet him, with a hug and kiss. it was an inseparable combo he made a routine, but for the past couple of days — he hasn't been getting that.

instead, he was greeted with silence. and just from the second time, he knew that something was definitely wrong with you. he'll find you curled up in bed, under the covers like it was the only thing that mattered in the world; but he tries to see it as a sign of exhaustion.

nanami watches your every move, for the past couple of days. you have been out of it. to the point where it was plain obvious and nanami tries asking about it, but you tell him it was just because of the stress. a sweetheart he is, he tries telling you to get some rest from work — he'd even excuse you if it's needed, but you tell him that wasn't needed and that you were fine.

obviously lying. he could see it, smell it, hear it.

it was suffocating. everything was suffocating to you, it's like everything was slowly masticating on every fiber in your body. you wanted to just, drop down and cry but whenever you try to, you just end up sitting on the floor blankly staring at nothing.

it scares yourself sometimes how empty your eyes look.

you wouldn't be surprised if nanami didn't come back home one day because he's so fed up — that's what you've been planting in you. that nanami would leave you for prettier people, for people who don't overthink, people who are generally better than you.

"y/n?"

oh. you didn't even hear him come home, you sat on the bedroom floor trying to push yourself up. and you couldn't even do that, so when nanami opens the bedroom door, seeing you on the floor — he said nothing, not even a hello.

nanami just scoops you into his arms and lays you down on the bed mutely, his slender fingers brushing your hair, "i love you," he murmurs quietly.

that was enough to make tears dwell up at the corner of your eyes, and he said nothing, grazing your tears away, "'m sorry. 'm so sorry, kento."

nanami didn't understand why you were apologizing, he hushed you, cradling you in his embrace as you let your tears free fall, "why are you sorry?"

that's when it struck you, why were you apologizing?

nanami didn't question you any further but he held you close, pressing chaste kisses onto your forehead, "is something in your mind?" you nodded slowly, "do you want to tell me about it?"

you nodded, inhaling sharply, "i just don't feel pretty enough...i feel like you deserve better than me, ken."

nanami laced your fingers with his, kissing your knuckles, "why do you say such things?" you didn't answer him, and it just breaks his heart even more, "you're perfect for me."

his words fall into deaf ears, but you didn't continue saying your worries, you just feel like nanami gets a gist of it. nanami didn't leave your side, cradling you in his arms like you're the most fragile being, "i love you," he kissed your forehead, "so much," and he kisses your lips.

nanami makes sure to spend every second telling you how much he loves you, telling you how beautiful you are, and how you're the most perfect for him.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. he hates it when you ignore him without any explanations, he's told you before, "if you have anything to say, say it to my face, don't ignore me."

but this feels like something you couldn't tell him, how you feel. it's obvious that you were distancing yourself from him, when he calls you, you sometimes pretend like you didn't hear him — and when he confronts you later, you tell him that you just didn't hear his calls.

"you're ignoring me, hm?"

"what? no— i just didn't hear you calling out to me."

don't even try to lie to him because he will always confront you about it, he sees right through you and your lies. the second time you try to run away from him when he calls out to you, he wastes no time holding you in place; confronting you right at that moment.

"why're you running away, brat?"

"i...oh, i didn't realize you were here, ryo." sukuna clicks his tongue in mere annoyance — what a bad actor you are, it's so ridiculous sukuna wanted to just burst out into laughter.

"bullshit. why're you avoiding me?"

that was it. you were cornered just like that. sighing, there isn't any way out unless you tell him — sukuna just won't let you go unless you tell him everything behind your recent behaviors.

"just don't feel pretty enough for you," you mutter out, avoiding his sharp gaze, "i feel like you can do much better than me. you deserve better than me."

sukuna gave you nothing but a mere smirk, pushing his lips onto yours. god, he didn't want to admit it — but he hates the way you talk shit about yourself, if he could tell you everything that he loves about you, he would. but he didn't because he's a jackass (and he's too shy to tell you that).

"that's it?" that's it? that's it?

you were about to push him away when he gives you that glare of his, "which person has been making you think like that?"

"no one. me."

he flicks your forehead, "then stop."

if only it was that easy, you grumbled at his response, and said nothing else so you could just leave. but sukuna, despite his ignorant answers always makes sure that you never run away from him anymore, he's a lot more touchy than usual — and he (tries) to compliment you and your appearance.

keyword: tries

he fails at it though. but you gave him kudos for trying, that's all that matters, really. that he makes you feel loved.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[rishiguro]

VERDICT - NEUVILLETTE

warnings: mentions of murder. mentions of minor character death. reader has a brother. 3k+ words

a/n: happy angstober people

angstober event

you’ve heard a lot of stories about the fortress of meropide growing up in fontaine.

a prison, not just underground, but underwater, hidden from everybody. a place to lock away the criminals, with barely anybody ever returning after they served their time. personally, you’ve never encountered anybody that actually went there, only a couple of imposters, posing for the media with some wild stories. and while most of these stories sounded like they were trying too hard to get people’s attention with some wild preposterous claims and grotesque details, no one could ever really disprove whatever was said.

an aura of mystery surrounded the fortress and its so-called ‘duke’, like a thick fog, and everybody who dared to enter it to find out what was on the other side would never come back to tell the tale. 

who knows, you probably wouldn’t either.

because there was nothing left for you on the surface anymore. just like it was the case for so many people that you had briefly seen when you were given a small part of the fortress – your new home.

refusing to look at the man who was arguably the sole reason why you were in here in the first place, you kept looking up at the dirty ceiling above you. 

could you really spend the rest of your life here? the label ‘criminal’ forever stamped on your forehead for a crime you didn’t commit? 

tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered why you were in here, your chest tightening.

brother.

he seemed to notice your distress while sitting next to you, leaning his body slightly forward. “i’m afraid there’s nothing i can do,” neuvillette said, his voice sounding as apathetic as it did when he had sentenced you. 

blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you shook your head. “there must be,” you answered, turning your head a little. he couldn’t just leave you here, there had to be something he can do, anything, even if it was using his position of power as a literal ‘get-out-of-jail-card’. he couldn’t just turn his back on you, could he? “i swear, i didn’t do it. i’m innocent”

the man sighed, you don’t know if it was in defeat or annoyance. “you were proclaimed guilty”

proclaimed guilty by him. 

you clenched your jaw, pulling yourself up to sit upright on the bed, directly facing neuvillette now. “i thought you said you believed me”

for a long time, his belief in you was the only thing that kept you going. frankly, it was the only thing that helped you stay sane during your trial, the thing that kept you from bursting in tears as the prosecutor told some dramatic story to frame you for the heinous crime you were in for now.

crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked down for a second, as if to gather his thoughts, carefully weighing his words in his mind. “this isn’t about what i believe in” 

you had to stop your jaw from falling slack, replaying his words over and over again in your mind. not about what he believed in? was this supposed to be a bad joke? a shocked laugh escaped you. he couldn’t be serious. “you’re the chief of justice! of course it’s about what you believe in!” you tried you best to keep your voice calm, but couldn’t help but get a little heated.

“it’s about what’s factual,” he replied immediately, his tone clearly not allowing any kind of protests. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you coldly, clenching his jaw for a second. he took a breath before continuing, his voice back to a regular volume. “and all the evidence is stacked against you” 

as he was talking you already shook your head in disbelief. “i’m innocent! why would i do such a horrible thing?” you reached out to him, grabbing his arm as he turned away, seemingly not wanting to see your outburst. was ist shame that was written all over his face? regret?

“tell me!” you demanded loudly, digging your fingers a little deeper into his arm in desperation. you had to stop yourself from shaking him as your voice grew unsteady and your breather grew a little flatter. “why would i kill my own family, my brother, when he’s the only person i had left?!”

it seemed like he didn‘t have an answer to that, not facing you while you looked at him, waiting for any kind of explanation.

he promised you that he believed you when you came to him with shaky knees and teary eyes, recounting the horrible accusations thrown your way.

he comforted you when you broke down crying, embracing you in one of his rare hugs unprompted while he muttered soft words into your ear, reminding you to breathe regularly.

he held you when you lashed out, angry at your brother for leaving you alone in this scary world and he held you when you fell apart later, feeling guilty for being the only one left and guilty for being angry at your brother in the first place. it wasn‘t his fault — and he certainly never wanted to leave you, you knew that.

the world was cruel and unjust.

but until now you believed that there was some sort of justice and fairness and neuvillette was the only reason you believed that.

even before you had met him you knew about him. his reputation was practically flawless — the people of fontaine spoke about him in a highly manner, a few maybe even more highly than they spoke of their archon: neuvillette was moral, just, fair, his verdicts always being the same ones that the oratrice mecanique d‘analyse cardinale would give, which made him seem infallible. 

and you believed it too. until he became the reason why you believed that the kind of justice served in fontaine wasn’t true, proper justice.

until you lost hope in the only thing that helped you stay sane after you came across the cold body of your own brother.

a shiver ran over neuvillette‘s back when he heard you laugh after his long silence. quickly you let go of his arm, dropping it like it was replaced by hot coals. “i can’t believe it,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief again. this had to be a joke. would he really lie to you like that when you were the most vulnerable? “you never believed me when i said i didn’t do it, did you?”

much to your dismay, he stayed quiet, only pursing his lips slightly before pressing them together into a thin line. would he really betray you like that? was he ever on your side? “answer me!”

only when hearing your desperate pleas did he look at you again with his determined eyes. “i did. i thought you had no motive” he cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat before crossing his legs like he always did. “as you said, i didn’t think you’d gain anything from murdering your brother”

you recognized this neutral look on his face — the very same look he always took on whenever he was in court, listening to the defender and the prosecutor and finally also delivering his verdict.

“what changed?” you clenched your jaw, anxious about his answer. 

what would it be? did he let himself be swayed by the public opinion, listening to the voices booing your story out? did he trust the prosecutor's fabricated and seemingly flawless story? or were you simply not convincing enough?

“the facts changed,” he calmly stated, making you huff in disagreement.

“bullshit,” you spat, “you just found another story to believe in”

not waiting a second to retort, he leaned back slightly. “i told you, it's not about what i want to believe in, delusions aren’t what makes our justice. it’s fairness, facts,” he sighed. you don‘t know if it was in defeat or in a disappointed manner. his voice became sharper again its him putting his chin higher. “and that is what i represent”

“you‘ve convicted an innocent person,” you declared, mirroring his expression and posture. 

he would leave you here to rot, by now you were sure of it. and yet to you it seemed like he didn‘t really grasp the gravity of this.

neuvillette convicted you of murder. and if this wasn‘t bad enough, he truly believed that you had it in yourself to kill your own brother, your flesh and blood.

the only person you had left.

“i don’t give the final verdict. that is out of my hands,” he claimed, clearly referring to the oratrice — the huge scale behind himself in the court‘s opera epiclese.

was he really pinning the blame on a machine, denying any kind of involvement in your current situation? like he had nothing to do with this?

wasn‘t he supposed to be independent and just? wasn‘t this why he prided himself in his position and why the people of fontaine trusted him? because their beliefs aligned?  

“yet your decisions are always the same. how could you do this to me?”

instead of answering, neuvillette stood up, turning his back on you and taking a few steps towards the exit of your cell, well, dormitory.

could he really just leave like this and leave you behind? did he not feel any kind of remorse, pity, pain?

the echoing steps came to a halt a few moments after. you looked up at him again, only to realize he had already reached the exit. he had his hand on the dark wall, looking at you over his shoulder.

he couldn‘t even properly turn around to talk to you and face you after dooming you?

“i’m afraid there’s nothing i can do,” neuvillette stated in a matter-of-factly tone, “your sentence will be carried out accordingly, unless you wish to evoke your right to challenge a duelist”

so this was it? he would just go and leave you here?

“if there is nothing you wish to say to me, i’ll take my leave”

you knew neuvillette didn‘t exactly feel the way you did. he had troubles with emotions, often lacking the proper words to fully express himself and describing what was going on inside of him. and you used to pride yourself in being able to understand him regardless, possessing the ability to read him almost like an open book. you helped him navigate through the complicated world of feelings, taking your time and going at your speed.

but right now, you were second-guessing everything. was he even capable of any kind of emotion? did he just fool you all this time?

did he truly not feel any kind of remorse for what he did, for what he was doing?

you shook your head in disbelief. this had to be a joke, a sick prank someone played on you and somehow got not just the entire nation of fontaine, but also somehow managed to get neuvillette to play along. at least that‘s what you wanted to believe. “so that’s supposed ‘justice’” 

neuvillette turned around, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “it is justice,” he stated, “it’s about facts, not fiction”

you almost burst out laughing as he said that, so convinced of the system he served in. 

and truly, you once were too.

but you couldn‘t, not anymore. not after seeing how the trial against you turned into some sort of drama, like it was straight out of a book. journalists were publishing articles with grotesque headlines, bombarding you with horrendous questions that left you cringing uncomfortably. 

you watched as the story the prosecutor told got more and more dramatic, pointing at you accusatory as he recounted the ‘true events‘ of the fateful night, completely ignoring whatever you said to dispute his claims. “it’s not about facts, it’s about convenience! it’s just theatrics and entertainment!” you yelled as you jumped on your feet, not being able to contain your voice any longer.

“whoever presents the story that convinces the most people will win. and the people of fontaine are so easy to be swayed,” you continued, not letting the man in front of you get a single word in, “so thirsty for some juicy drama that lets them forget about their boring lives”

you couldn‘t stop yourself from scoffing again before letting a condescending laugh escape you. “and they don’t even have the critical thinking to reflect on everything”

your trial simply proved what you just told him. your point of view, your truth, simply didn‘t matter to the prosecutor or to the public. their story seemed to convenient, something that could be right out of a criminal novel that they loved to devour so much. the headlines in the newspaper were too sensational to be considered factual, too virulent to make any person doubt it. 

“the public’s opinion does not sway the sentence,” neuvillette claimed with a clenched jaw, starting to look agitated. 

and it seemed like they managed to get neuvillette on their side too. 

a sad smile appeared on your face. “then i guess you’re stupid too” stupid for not listening to your side, stupid to believe the prosecutor, stupid to not make a rational judgment.

too stupid to realize that your supposed motive wasn’t a motive at all.

money. why would you kill your own brother for money when the two of you never had anything to begin with? you couldn’t steal something when there wasn‘t anything in the first place. neuvillette knew that. he knew you came from nothing, he knew the two of you had nothing. 

and even if it was a motive — no amount of money would ever be able to heal the wound you had sustained from losing your brother.

how could he be so stupid?

“you’re acting childish,” he stated calmly. 

you were in jail and possibly would never see the light of day again. you were locked in an underwater fortress for a crime you didn‘t commit and nobody believed you.

and his worry was that you were acting childish?

“oh, i’m sorry for not being calm and collected like you after being unjustly sentenced for murdering my own brother!” you raised your voice at him again, angrily stepping closer to him. “and that by the one person that i thought actually believed me”

you had to swallow down the lump in your throat again, blinking rapidly before looking into his eyes again. 

how could he do this to you? was he truly so heartless? 

would he really leave you here, alone and heartbroken?

a familiar warm hand slightly caressed your cheek. “i love you,” he whispered to you, in the same loving voice he had always used with you. “but i cannot make any exceptions” he stepped back, the warmth leaving your cheek again, letting the cold creep up to you again. he looked almost hurt himself and you were almost willing to feel pity for him — maybe if he wasn’t the chief of justice. maybe if he couldn’t put a stop to all of this, “not even for you”

maybe if he had kept his promise to you.

your fingertips grazed over your cheek, longing for the warmth that neuvillette’s hand provided just a few seconds earlier. your chest tightened as you dug your teeth into your lower lip, feeling your eyes well up again. “so that’s it? you love me, but not enough to believe me? not enough to keep me safe? free?”

you clenched your fists at your sides, not noticing that he was doing exactly the same.

“this is about so much more than just you!” he exclaimed angrily, his voice practically booming off the walls, “you’re too self-centered to understand this!” 

did not wanting to rot in prison after being framed for a crime really make you self-centered? was that all he thought of you now?

“it’s my duty! my promise to the people from fontaine, my promise to our archon and my promise to myself to uphold justice,” he continued his rant, his voice growing uncharacteristically theatrical. 

was he really just a part of the theatrics of fontaine‘s supposed just court? was his equitable self just a ruse, an act he put on to fit in?

did you ever really know him?

“what about your promise to me?” your voice wasn‘t much more than a whisper as you spoke, looking up at him. not that you‘d be able to actually see him with how blurry your vision got from the tears in your eyes.

as childish and naive as it was, you couldn‘t help but wish for him to remember.

it was a late summer night, the first evening where you could finally go out. the past days it had rained with seemingly no end in sight and now you felt like you could finally breathe again.

you had been strolling around the city without any real goal, simply admiring how many people enjoyed the summer warmth after so many cold and wet days. 

neuvillette‘s hand was entangled with yours, the two of you walking in silence, simply enjoying each other‘s company. you had been seeing each other for a while now and yet it was still early enough for you to feel slightly nervous whenever you were near him, stomach turning and feeling butterflies when you held hands, hugged or kissed. 

it was on that day when he pulled you close to the fountain of lucine, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spend some time listening to the ambience — the water running, the pigeons and other birds chirping and the few people talking around you, some whispering wishes to the fountain, some gleefully joking with each other. 

most people had already left when he turned you around to face him, letting go of your waist to grab your hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles before he spoke.

it was the first time that he told you that he loved you, finally revealing just how much he cared for you and cherished you. how he would do everything in his power to protect you, how he would always believe you and how he would always stay by your side. 

how even when everybody turned their back on you, you would always have him. 

and yet here you were now.

you didn’t know what you would prefer — him forgetting about that day or him remembering, but simply not caring enough to act on it.

like everything he had told you — promised you — has been a lie. 

clenching his jaw, neuvillette turned around again.

no.

blinking away your tears you weakly called out his name, a part of you still expecting him to turn around.

don‘t go.

you hoped for a miracle, a change of heart. you wanted him to rush to you, to comfort you, to love you again.

maybe then everything would turn out to be okay again.

you stumbled, the back of your knees hitting the chair he had been sitting earlier, falling onto it.

don‘t leave me.

you still hoped that everything was just a big mistake.

you called out to him again, fighting against the tears that kept welling up in your eyes, leaving neuvillette‘s figure in front of you all blurred again. “what about that? why can you betray me like that, but not them?”

“i’m sorry” and with that he left, not even sparing you a single glance on his way out, as you pulled your knees up, hugging them while the tears began to roll over your cheek again.

reblogs are appreciated !

[readychilledwine]

Hi Liz! I have been following you for a while now and I absolutely adore everything you write. You are incredibly talented and deserve all praise for it ❤️

I have never actually requested a story from any author simply because I will devour almost any content by fanfic authors and truthfully it makes me feel a little greedy and I never want anyone to feel forced to write anything. However, I have had this idea since I read one of your stories and I feel like no one else would be able to do it justice like you would.

Essentially, the reader is the youngest Archeron sister and is mated to Azriel (mating bond has been accepted and they have been together for a couple of months now) but she is inexperienced (her first time was with Azriel) and Nesta has been giving her some of her hard core smutty books and now the reader wants to explore some kinks with Azriel (somnophilia, cock warming, wing play, bondage) but she’s embarrassed to bring up the conversation with him. Anyway, she eventually has that conversation with Azriel (he’s all too happy about it because no one can tell me this male doesn’t have a corruption kink) and smut ensues.

First of all, thank you for the endless compliments 💜💜 I'm so excited you're here and have welcomed me into your world for entertainment purposes.

Second of all, I could NEVER deny an Azriel corruption kink fic.

Breathe

Summary - A year of sexual exploration hasn't even began to touch the things Azriel would like to do to you.

Warnings - throat fucking, breath play, references to knife play, auralism, jealous Rhys and cassian at the end, mentions of other explored kinks and sexual senerios

Azriel pushed his fingers further unto your throat, his shadows forcing your hair back as he held your book in his free hand.

“I've been wondering why you've been sending me wave after wave of arousal all day,” he rose a brow a passage involving the male character using a knife to pleasure the female main. “Is this what my pretty little mate reads when I'm away? Her big sister's smut novels?”

He watched as you gagged, drool and spit coming to the corner of your mouth as you struggled to breathe and looked up at him doe eyed. “Want me to fuck you with Truth Teller, mate? Does the thought of coming on a deadly weapon soak your little lace panties?” He chuckled darkly. Mocking your inability to answer. 

“You're trained better than this, slut. You know to answer me when I ask you a question.” You whined around his fingers. You  could feel the tension in his body, feel his need for stress relief. 

The two of you had just began exploring physically together. The bond finally snapped after your 20th birthday. After the Mortal queen and the deathless God had been dealt with. After Elain finally let her claws out of him long enough for him to notice you. To feel you.

He had not pushed sex, knowing from Nesta you were the only one of the 4 of you to hold onto that seemingly special thing so tightly. It had taken a year for you to spread those pretty thighs and let him take you, but after that, you fucked like rabbits. Trying every dirty thing and kink your mind wanted to explore.

Azriel had allowed you to dominate him, whining as you rode his cock and denied him orgasm after orgasm, fingers dancing his scarred wings.

He had tied you from the ceiling his dungeon, harnessed up like a swing and fucked you to sweet oblivion.

He had taken every tight hole, came anywhere he could. Marked you in his scent and musk more times than you two could count.

But you were still his sweet innocent girl. 

His little untouched angel exploring your sexuality and urges like an animal in heat sometimes. Your recent needs were punishment. You liked him hurting you, dominating you, watching as you cried. You liked breath play lately, hence his fingers sinking deeper as you struggled, black beginning to form in your eyes until he took those fingers out and slapped you.

“Need you to suck my cock, princess,” he began unlacing his leathers, mind lost in the pleasure your mouth would bring him. “Open. Now.”

You obeyed, throat relaxing and mouth opening as his cock sprung free. Hard leaking and angry from weeks away from you. He pushed in without hesitation, setting a gentle pace as he tightened his grip in your hair.

“She couldn't breathe,” his deep voice began reading from the book, making you whine around his cock as he pushed it down your throat ensuring you couldn't either. “The feeling of the cold hilt in her warm walls causing her to feel wave after wave of shock and pleasure.”

He looked down at you, smirking at the sight of your flushed cheeks, at you swallowing around him as spit pooled the corners of your mouth. His eyes went back to the book. “There was something about the danger, the thrill of this deadly weapon being used to push her to the edge that had her crying out, begging and pleading for more and more as she met every thrust with her hips. Fucking herself harder and harder on her mate's weapon.”

You were aching, dripping for him, and tapped his thigh for a quick breath, watching as he pulled out and looked down at you unimpressed. You panted a few gulps of air before taking him back in your mouth and bobbing your head, hallowing your cheeks and licking each vein on his shift. 

Azriel groaned loudly above you, setting the book down before his now free hand joined the other one tangled in your now messy hair. He began fucking your throat harshly. Barely allowing you moments of air as he chased his much needed high. 

You could do nothing but hold on for life when he did this. When he lost control for you. He pushed all the way in, gagging you again and held you there, nose pressed against his skin. “Breathe,” he commanded in a moan. “Being such a good girl, y/n.” 

Throat fucking as new to you. An unexplored territory you hadn't even considered until he had asked gently. You knew it was more for him than for you, but right now you felt this sense of power as he moaned above you, wings shuttering as his body shivered. 

That power reached a deep set need in your bones, allowing you to relax and enjoy this more with a small moan. “There we go, angel,” he whispered. “Just like that for me. I'm so proud of you.” He began thrusting again, allowing you to hear his pleasure, allowing you to feel that power you had over him. “Keep breathing, baby,” his voice was almost a whimper. “Just keep breathing, I'm right there, y/n. Please honey.”

Him begging had you moaning against him, relaxing your throat further as your watched his breathing pick up, his plump lips part, his eyes scrunch. 

Without warning he pushed all the way in, spilling down your throat, as a roar tore through his own. He pulled back slightly, releasing the last of his cum onto your stuck out tongue with a satisfied smile. 

He kneeled down to you, shadows bringing him a notebook and pen and he wiped the small bits that hit your face off with his thumb before forcing you to suck that digit. 

He flipped through the notebook, a page dedicated to each sexual act and kink you two had explored with a rating and comments from both of you before landing on the page he needed and the adjoining blank one. 

“1 through 5?” He asked you gently, removing his thumb and kissing your forehead. 

“3.5,” you admitted with guilt. “I only enjoyed it because you do, and it made me feel slightly in control.”

He nodded, writing your response as you two both moved to sit cross-legged from each other on the floor. “Do not feel guilty. I am just happy it ranked high enough to be in the rotation. How about the reading to you thing?”

“4 out of 5. I enjoyed it a lot when you were doing that.” Azriel jotted it down.

“And what the fuck is going on in this novel? Do you want to try knife play?”

“Only with you,” you answered. 

Azriel leaned forward, kissing you gently. “It's one of my favorites. I've done it with a couple play partners. I can answer any questions you have.”

The two of you sat there, filling in a few more pages of the book you had started to keep during the beginning of your exploration a year ago, smiling at the things you've already done, going on your list of retries. 

Love was free flowing down the bond, soaking the room and fabric in it's scent, filling the Riverhouse with its presence with every passing moment. 

Rhys and Cassian sighed from downstairs, tapping their feet on the wooden floors as they waited for Azriel to come give them his mission report. 

“This happens every fucking time,” Cassian sat down on the couch. “Is it us? Is fatherhood killing our sex drive?”

Rhys shrugged. “I don't know what's killing your sex drive, brother. Mine is fine. Hince 3 little ones. If you could figure out what's keeping theirs so... passionate, though, I'd appreciate it.” 

[mlm-writer]

Tears of Lust (Dick Grayson x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dick Grayson aka Nightwing (YJ ver.) x Demon!Male!Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 3447 POV: Second Summary: If a demon is not majority of their time in hell, they get a rut once a year. You try to keep your human boyfriend out of your ‘weird’ demon things, but Dick has never wanted to be involved more. Note: Writing so many Young Justice fics and I don’t even remember the plot anymore. Should rewatch that some time. Sequel here. Tags: smut, ruts, heavy dacryphilia, we are entering monsterfucker territory, established relationship, super long tongue, anallingus, deep penetration, bit of magic, overstimulation, degradation, slight dumbification (?), maybe a bit humiliation???, breeding, throatfucking, pleasure dom reader, begging, anal fingering, anal fucking, and still sweet I promise, reader is so in looooove

Hell could go fuck itself. The cold of Earth was easy to deal with when you had three blankets wrapped around you. Usually it took that and a thick hoodie to keep you at your preferred temperature, but as your eyes stayed trained on the TV in front of you, sweat gathered on your back. You frowned and removed one of the blankets, only now noticing your leg had been bouncing this whole time. A sigh left you as you saw what time of the year it was again. 

You had no time to think about the arrangements you needed to make. You could hear Dick fumble with his keys outside the door. From the way the keys jingled, you could tell he had his hands full of groceries again. You paused the TV with a snap of your fingers and strutted over to the door, blankets around you like a cloak. When you opened the door, you were greeted with the exact sight you were expecting. 

Grocery bags hung from Dick’s wrists. You took them all with one hand, the other holding the blankets around you. “Are we hosting a dinner party? Why did you buy so much,” you questioned as you easily carried the bags inside and put them on the kitchen island. You pushed one of the plastic bags open to peer inside, seeing a lot of ice cream inside.

“Because this year, you are spending your rut here with me,” Dick replied in a matter-of-fact tone, like you had already agreed to do that, but you had forgotten. You froze. With a slow breath you turned around to see Dick leisurely taking his shoes off. The idea alone was enough to shorten the time for your rut to arrive. 

“Since when do you know about that?” Your words were all carefully picked, spoken slowly with a weight hanging on each of them. When Dick approached you to give you his usual welcome kiss, you took a step back, not allowing him to change the subject. 

Dick looked hurt, but his patience seemed to be endless with you. He did not try to get closer and instead walked over to the kitchen island to get started on putting the groceries away. “It is kind of hard not to notice that you have a ‘business trip’ every year around the same time. I did some digging in the Justice League database…” Dick paused, staring at the canned soup in his hand as if it offended him. “Why did you never tell me?” His eyes raised up to meet yours, the look of disappointment no longer directed at the chicken soup, but at you instead. 

You swallowed and sat down at one of the barstools, unconsciously picking the one that put some distance between you and your partner. “The ruts just occur because I don’t spend the majority of my time in hell anymore. I know how much you value monogamy, so I just go back and tough it out,” you defended yourself, afraid Dick thought you were secretly fucking people on the side. Now holding a huge bottle of lube, Dick gave you the side eye. You understood immediately that you were not answering his question. “I was afraid you would think it too much. You’ve been dealing with so much. I was afraid another demon thing would be asking too much of you.” You held your head high, owning up to your shortcomings. The fact that Dick had bought all this stuff was enough proof that you had been wrong. “I’m sorry, I should have thought more highly of you.” 

Dick sighed, putting down the cup noodles he had just retrieved from one of the plastic bags. “Apology accepted,” he muttered, before looking at you again. He then paused. “But wait, you’re not gonna tell me your rut is dangerous or something? No ‘oh I might lose control and I don’t wanna hurt you’ or something? You’re just going to let me?” You chuckled and shed the blankets, so you could more easily circle the kitchen island to wrap your arms around your lover’s waist. 

Dick twisted his head to kiss you and you happily complied. After a short kiss, you started helping Dick with the shopping. “You’ll be fine. I’m centuries old now. I won’t be an unstoppable animal. 

The apartment was made rut-proof by Dick and you did not have the heart to tell him that the Justice League database might contain some anti-demon propaganda, because some of the preparations were even beyond your comprehension. Dick had stored away all breakable items. Your cabinets were full of cereal for some reason. What was up with that? 

You enjoyed the cold temperature Dick preferred for once as you lounged on the couch with Dick snuggled up beside you. You wanted him ten minutes ago, but he was so cosied up that you felt bad if you were to turn off the TV just to fuck him senseless. You thought you were doing well until Dick spoke up. “You’ve been hard since like five minutes into this episode. When are you carrying me to the bedroom?” He had said it so casually, like he wanted an actual answer like ‘oh around 10pm’ or ‘after this episode ends’. However, you knew better than that. This was your lover’s way of saying ‘take me now’. 

You did not even bother turning the TV off. In a flash, you had Dick off the couch and in your arms. With a shadow dash you were in the bedroom in an instant. Dick bounced on the mattress as you threw him onto the bed. There was no room for words as your clothes ripped and you captured Dick’s lips mid-transformation. “Sorry,” you mumbled between filthy kisses, “I can’t maintain my human form during the rut.” 

“I know,” Dick replied, hands grabbing at the muscles that tore through the fabrics. He helped rid you of the confines you found yourself in. He reached for your cock, but you grabbed his hand, gathering the other one as well to pin them both above his head. “Holy shit, this is so hot,” he said in a breathy chuckle, his face stretched in an excited smile. 

You held his wrists above his head with a single, large hand, while you took his lips between your fangs. You gently toyed with them, before sliding your long, thick tongue into Dick’s mouth. He moaned like a pornstar. You could smell his arousal, his excitement and his precum leaking inside his underwear. 

Normally you would play with him more, but not today. You had a hunger that had to be satiated, so you penetrated his throat with your tongue and with a snap of your fingers, got rid of Dick’s clothes. The textiles evaporated like water on the stove and you were pretty sure Dick had no idea you could even do that, but he was too busy deepthroating your tongue to care. You fed him your saliva, thinking he could use the aphrodisiac effects of it to get through the night. When you finally let his mouth go, Dick was gasping for air. He looked happy as he was panting on the bed.

You grabbed his ankles and flipped him over like a pancake. Dick was giggling like a school girl seeing her crush. He followed your lead, allowing you to put a pillow under his hips. Your huge hands could fit a round cheek in each of them as you pulled them apart, revealing Dick’s plugged little hole. “Why does it seem like you’re the one going through a rut?” You scolded him teasingly as you lightly tugged at the plug. You pulled a little bit out, just to push it back in. Dick was humming in reply, loving the nails that were leaving animalistic marks on his bum. 

“I am promised a whole couple of days of endless fucking. How can I not be excited?” You gave his butt a light slap as a sort of reprimand, but Dick just seemed to enjoy it. Eventually, you had enough of just watching his hole stretch over the plug and you pulled it out roughly. Dick gasped, the sound dissolving into a cry as your tongue entered his slick hole. Your senses got filled by your lover. His scent was like gasoline on the fire that produced your hormones. His cries, as you swirled your tongue around inside him, were like an open tap above a clogged sink that was already full of lust. His taste… My god, his taste was like the first time you hit the high on drugs and everything feels so good and you feel like you could stay in the moment forever, never wanting to return to normal life. 

Little by little, your tongue penetrated him deeper and deeper. Dick was humping the pillow underneath him and letting out small cries of pleasure. You did not know how long it took for Dick to take it all, but by the time you had all 20 inches of your tongue inside him, Dick was desperately humping the pillow and your face. “Feels so good, so good,” he kept muttering, body overtaken by pleasure. He seemed to be unable to think of anything else but his upcoming orgasm. You helped him fuck himself on your tongue, your claws leaving bruises on his ass. When you could feel him on the edge, you pulled him close and started violently wiggling your tongue inside him. 

Dick groaned as your tongue milked him through his first orgasm. No amount of twitching and squirming could free him from your grasp. His cum had long stained the pillow, but you did not stop, pressing on all his sensitive spots repeatedly. “Please, baby! Mercy! Please!” None of those words have ever been your safeword, so you kept going. 

Dick’s voice reached a crescendo as you kept stimulating him. He was near-screaming when you smelled it, the thing you needed most. You retracted your tongue and climbed over Dick. He fell on the bed like a puppet with its strings cut. You grabbed him by the hair and forced his head up. There they were, glistening on a line from his eyes down his cheeks. You licked the tears off his cheeks, before giving him an appreciative kiss on the lips. “Why?” Dick shuddered, eyes hooded and a quiver in his lips as he struggled with just a single syllable. 

You grinned down at him and caressed his pretty face. “I’m disappointed you didn’t study better,” you mockingly cooed at him as you moved. You sat down against the headboard, gently lifting Dick to sit in your lap. “You just read you were gonna get fucked and your dumbwhore brain just turned off, didn’t it?” You whispered as you scooted him forward until his dick was flush against yours. He was fully flaccid, but you did not need him to be hard at all. Dick nodded with his mouth slightly open, arousal painted on his face. You morphed one of your clawed hands into a more human shape, something without any sharp edges. You did not harm Dick as you inserted a single, thick finger inside him. His breath got stuck in his throat and he fell forward against you. You held him cradled against your chest as you thrusted that single finger inside him. “I’ll try to explain in a way my dumb little slut will understand,” you whispered, adoring how he had his hands in fists resting against your chest. “If I spend a rut with a human, the only thing that will satisfy me are tears produced during sex,” you entered another finger, “now most demons would choose some barbaric way to get those, but me… I have you.” You curled your digits, finding Dick’s prostate with ease. Whether it was your hellish nature or due to how well you knew him, you were not sure, but you always found it right when you were looking for it. 

Dick writhed against you as you rubbed his prostate relentlessly. “I’m going to make you feel so good, my love,” you promised, “I’m going to melt your brain with pleasure, so all that is left of you when I’m done is a pretty, mindless, little fuckslut.” Your dirty words hurled Dick towards his second orgasm. He was biting his lips until the very end, where a loud moan broke his silence. His limp cock poured his cum over your hard length, but even when that little bit of cum ran out, you held him in place with one hand, while violating his prostate with the other. 

Dick wailed in pleasure, but you could tell he was on that border of where too much pleasure was indistinguishable from pain. He gripped your shoulders, blunt nails digging in you as he seemed to hold on for dear life. He raised his head, eyes big and pleading. “Please, please, please,” he cried out. It did not take long for his limp cock to twitch in another attempt at spilling cum over you, but it was too soon and Dick had nothing to give, except the big, juicy tears that started pouring from his eyes. You leaned down, lapping them up as you continued your assault. Dick’s whole body was shaking at your onslaught. “Stop, please!” Dick eventually screamed. That was not the safeword, but you understood he needed a break, so you pulled your fingers out of him, while licking the last of his tears off his face. 

Dick leaned against you, still sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back gently. Everytime a tear escaped him, your tongue automatically darted out to lap it up. “Shh, you did well, rest a little,” you cooed. You waited patiently as his breathing slowed, until Dick eventually let his hand wander down to take a good grasp of you. He stroked your cock lazily, spreading his own cum over your length. 

You lifted your lover up and turned around, sitting him against the headboard. You stood on the bed, looming over him with your big cock pressed against his cheek. “Ready for more?” You asked with a wolfish grin. Dick responded by taking the head of your cock in his mouth. You let Dick ease into it on his own, watching as he went from sucking the head to licking it all over, eating his own cum off your cock. However, your patience was not endless. You grabbed him by the jaw and let a finger trace along where his head and neck connected. Dick felt the tingle of the spell that temporarily disabled his gag reflex. He understood and his mouth fell open, eyes looking up at you expectantly. 

You braced yourself against the wall and leaned forward to shove your cock inside Dick’s mouth as far as it would go. Though he could no longer gag, there were still limits to his human body, so it was simply impossible for him to take you balls deep. Not that it mattered. His throat bulged and you moved back again, gently fucking his throat at first. Dick kept looking up at you with those obedient eyes as if he had accepted his fate as permanent cocksleeve. It was hard to keep the pace gentle. Before you knew it, you were fucking his throat like it was all he was, just a cocksleeve. “Look at you, just taking my cock down your throat like you’re a human fleshlight,” you grunted as you pushed in a little past what you knew was Dick’s usual limit. His eyes watered, but he could not gag. When you pulled out, he gasped for air. While he was panting, you leaned down to lick the tears off his face that had formed. 

Then you did it again and again, alternating between degrading Dick while you fucked his throat and letting him breathe while you sated your hunger with his tears. It was so hot, your lover taking it so well. However, you did not want to cum in his mouth or on his face. There was only one place your cum belonged. You pulled out and grabbed his hair, savouring the tears, before you roughly manhandled him onto his back. You bent him in two, knowing how flexible he was. Dick put his feet behind his head, hands on his ass to show you the best view. With a swipe of your thumb over his hole, Dick’s ass started producing slick based on how aroused he was. It was unsurprising that he immediately started leaking like you had already bred him full. 

“Such a good, dumb, bitch. Look how fucking horny you are, even after I made you cum 3 times. You’re leaking like a slut.” Dick had no reply, not that he would have been able to say anything while you rammed your cock inside him. The slide was easy, but the stretch was so sudden. You did not start out with gentle thrusts this time, wanting it to hurt a little. 

Dick had been prepped, but there was no amount of fingering that made taking your cock not bordering between pain and pleasure. He threw his head back, moaning and whining. “Breed me, please, please, I need to be full, please,” he begged and begged in between your harsh thrusts. The wall got a beating too as the headboard slammed against it and the bed creaked under you. Dick could not stop begging. You were tethering on the edge, but you wanted to see him cum once more. 

Dick’s hard member twitched against his stomach. Not a single touch had been required. You grabbed Dick by the back of his head and pressed your foreheads together. “Cum for me, now.”

Dick shook his head as much as he could in your grip. “Together, please,” he begged, tears already forming in the corners of his eyes. You gave him an evil smile that showed your disagreement. “Please, you’ll keep going, I don’t know if I can…” 

You cut him off with your free hand that grasped his cock. “I said now,” you growled. He howled as you mercilessly fucking him to orgasm with your hand and cock. You were impressed by the two drops of cum that still managed to come out of his cock. And then, of course, you kept going, fucking him balls deep while you stroked his cock. Dick screamed, his legs coming down, but between your foreheads pressed together and your cock in his ass, he had nowhere to go. He begged, a string of “please” endlessly spilling from his mouth. He writhed. He cried. His tears were delicious, filled with lust, desperation and pleasure. 

You could not get enough of it, the flavour consisted of the most exquisite mixture of emotions that you ever tasted. However, you were not untouchable yourself. Dick came again, his ass spasming around your cock and your knot inflated, locking you in as you spilled your seed deep inside Dick. He could feel it, crying out as his walls were even stretched more by the influx of cum. You let go of his cock, watching his belly that clearly showed the outline of your cock inflate a little. 

You wrapped his legs around your hips, trying to make him as comfortable as he could be, while waiting for your knot to go down. Meanwhile, you licked the remaining tears off him and stroked his hair. “There you go, so good for me, my love,” you whispered. You pecked his cheek, concerned by how Dick was still shaking and looking like he fought seven planets worth of evil aliens at once. His eyes were still closed, mouth open to catch his breath. “Say something, my love,” you murmured, concerned by his silence. 

Dick’s body went slack and he finally opened his eyes to look at you. “Promise me something,” he spoke softly, voice a little hoarse. You nodded and let your hands wander, giving him gentle touches all over to comfort him. “I can’t actually die from too much pleasure, right?” 

You tried to hold back your laughter, knowing that too much movement would be really hard on Dick’s ass right now. “Silly boy,” you mused as you leaned down for a loving kiss. Dick could not do much right now, but he still tried to reciprocate. “I would never let anything happen to my special human.” 

Dick smiled and nodded. “Good, good…” He clearly wanted to say more, but did not have the energy for it. You did not press; he needed his energy for later.

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (Part 2/?)

(Part one, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven. Also on AO3)

Robin inhaled softly as Batman strode past his hiding spot. He placed his hands over his mouth and held still within the hiding spot he had found in the spaceship. He could see Superman glance in his direction, but thankfully, he didn't say anything as he floated alongside Batman to go to the command room.

When he heard them leave, Robin quickly followed after them.

When Batman had left him to go to space of all things, Robin knew what he had to do. With the help of Wonder Woman, who had laughed herself silly when he had asked before gleefully complying, he was able to sneak onto the spacecraft without Batman knowing.

It wasn't fair if Bruce got to go to space but he couldn't!

It was space!

Robin followed them quietly and watched as both Batman and Superman stood around the computer monitor that was built into the spacecraft. Green Lantern was already there, staring through the wide window above the monitor at the dark void. Although it was dark, several whirling stars and strange planets all shone brightly and spun in place. The screen itself held several different pictures, and each of them flickered and brightened as sounds came from the screen.

Robin's eyes widened in awe as he strained his ears to listen in.

The sounds were beautiful, like something that he would've heard at a church choir. The singing was ethereal and spooky all in one, echoing with a haunting quality to it like it was underwater.

Like a siren's song.

Robin had to clench his fingers in order to hold himself back from lurching forward, wanting to be even closer.

But who were the people singing?

Green Lantern crossed his arms when he saw the two of them enter.

“Took you two long enough. How did you find this galaxy? I haven’t heard anything about it, even from the Corps.”

Superman answered, “We were testing the new spacecraft for interstellar travel and decided to see if we could go far enough and maybe meet some sentient life forms that could join the Justice League,” he rubbed the back of his head and continued, “Well, we reached this place and then discovered them and made contact. Batman and I asked them if they would help us in the future, and they said they would.”

Green Lantern looked unimpressed. He turned to Batman and asked, “So I guess you were paranoid enough to call me?”

“… yes. And I contacted Zatanna as well.” Robin could tell that Batman was disgruntled by his own powerlessness by the way his voice was tight, like he was gritting his teeth.

He stifled a laugh at the thought of Batman being helpless. He loved Bruce, but oh boy, it was funny seeing him struggle.

Green Lantern shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell you much, because I can’t fly around here like I’d like, even with the ring. Supes, you’ve seen how dangerous this part of space is, right?”

Superman seemed excited to have someone understand. “Yes! The pressure and gravitational pull was very strong. I was only able to escape because I was far away enough and got away in time. The pull definitely seemed to match that of several astronomical objects combining into one. However, it shouldn’t be possible.”

Robin rolled his eyes. When were they going to be interesting?

He sank to the ground and hugged his knees, tilting his head to keep an eye on the three.

Green Lantern nodded. “I agree. It���s definitely way too strong, and usually, any other astronomical object would have collided with one another now, but those are definitely not normal. They’re not bound with logic or science. They even have planets circling around them.”

“We discovered that as well. They spoke with us and we determined that they were sentient,” Batman said. “It is most likely why they haven’t collided yet.”

Robin closed his eyes, leaning against the wall and focusing on the soft singing that continued to play. It lulled him into something like a doze. The song was just so beautiful and soothing, calm, yet strong. It was like a lullaby, one that he was beginning to love.

Green Lantern continued to speak, “It’s the singing, right? The ones singing are the four in the middle?”

“It seems to be all of them in this area, actually.” Batman sighed. “They mentioned two other planets the last time we spoke.”

Green Lantern hummed and turned to the monitor. “I want to try speaking with them. May I?”

Batman nodded and Green Lantern leaned in closer.

He tapped the screen and the sound was enough to rouse Robin. He blinked away the sleepiness and focused in on the room again. Superman glanced in his direction but didn’t say anything.

“Hey! Anyone there?”

The singing continued.

Green Lantern frowned. “Are you sure they spoke to you?”

“Yes,” Bruce growled.

“Try being polite?” Superman suggested.

“… hello? This is Green Lantern speaking. Can someone please respond?”

Robin held his breath as he poked his head into the door, leaning in as close as he could in order to see what would happen next.

The singing slowed to a stop, and so did the flickering on the screen. The sound of static and ocean waves filled the room for a moment.

And then, just like that, the screen spoke with the sound of a thousand voices—

"Hello."

Green Lantern’s eyebrows rose. “Well damn. Nice to meet you.”

"Hello again," Superman interrupted, beaming. "Are you all well? It's good to see you again!"

"We are well, Kal-el."

Superman’s smile went tight but didn’t say anything. Green Lantern glanced at him but was also silent.

Robin was focused on the sound of their voices. It was melodic, kind of like a little choir of voices speaking as one.

Robin's eyes widened again as he thought about it.

Amazing!

Were they speaking to the stars?

The stars continued to speak, “Hal Jordan, son of Martin, what do you seek?”

Green Lantern looked at Batman and Superman, who didn’t look surprised. He frowned heavily.

“Did you all know my identity before?” He addressed Superman and Batman with a glare. 

Superman said awkwardly, “No,” while Batman didn’t reply, so it was probably a yes.

He continued to demand, “Do they do this every time?”

“I think so? But Batman hasn’t spoken to them yet,” Superman said, looking at Batman, who still didn’t respond.

Green Lantern grimaced, turning away to look at the stars again before he then answered them.

“… I seek answers.”

“Ask, and you shall receive.” To Robin, they sounded a little tired by his questions. When looking at the adults’ faces though, they didn’t seem to notice.

Robin suddenly felt like he should’ve stepped out.

He was perhaps the only one who could understand these stars.

Green Lantern continued, “Could you tell us your names? Do you know what galaxy this is in?”

“… we have no more names. We are kept far, far away from any living planets except our own.”

“Is there a reason you’re so far away?”

“Yes.”

They waited, but there was no further response. Green Lantern grimaced again, glowering at Batman for putting him in this situation with a clearly very socially awkward galaxy.

“Can you tell us why?”

“No.”

Green Lantern asked, “Are you a danger to us?”

“No.”

“How can we be sure?”

“We’d swallow you if we were.”

Green Lantern eyed the stars with a deep frown. Robin tried to look at them as best as he could, observing the pulsing and glowing stars. The planets that circled them were quite fast, and Robin watched it all with an ever growing sense of awe.

In particular, he focused on the four in the middle, 2 white colored star-like things and a black hole, as well as a wide and glowing orb. The black hole looked intimidating, but it was so cool that Robin couldn’t help but lean past the door.

Green Lantern continued, “I am a Green Lantern. Do you know what that is?”

“We know of everything.”

Green Lantern turned around and muttered, “Jesus Christ.” He looked out the glass windows at the four revolving stars and black holes and then down at the monitor. “How come nobody knows about you?”

“Clockwork hid us….” Their voices were soft, reminiscent.

“Who?”

They didn’t answer, their silence sounding hesitant and worried. Robin hated that they seemed so fearful, as if they were protecting their mysterious Clockwork from them.

“Why?” Green Lantern pushed. Even Batman and Superman were growing agitated at the lack of any actual answers.

“… For our safety.”

Green Lantern nodded and said, “Thank you for answering our questions. That’s all for now.”

Then he pulled away, as the singing immediately picked up again, a little more rushed than before. He looked at Batman and Superman and asked, “Do we have any idea what a “Clockwork” is? Or who it is?”

“I’ve never heard of someone named that,” Batman shook his head.

Superman raised a finger, asking to speak as he said, “I have noticed that this galaxy is in the direction of the Horologium constellation. Horologium means “clock”. Maybe there’s a link between the two?”

“Makes sense. Now what? Do we even need to do anything? They’re seriously uncooperative and I think they’re being vague on purpose.”

Superman frowned. "Green Lantern," he began sternly, but the Green Lantern then put his hands up.

"Okay, first of all, I am way out of my depth here. Intergalactic threats are one thing, children that were forced to become stars is a whole separate matter."

“You already read the report, why are you complaining?” Batman grumbled.

However, Robin ignored the squabble that then ensued as his eyes widened. Children?

Were they in trouble?

Robin needed to help! As Batman’s partner and equal, he was better equipped to help than these three!

These three clearly weren’t suited for this!

Green Lantern scowled. “We have no way of knowing if they’re being truthful or not. My suggestion is that we continue to observe them in the meantime and if they want to “help” us, we take it with a grain of salt.”

Batman nodded. “Exactly my thinking.”

Superman looked a little anxious. “Aren’t we going to help them too? They said that they were human once…”

“Why bother? They don’t even act like it’s an inconvenience.”

Robin grit his teeth.

He knew it! These adults were useless! These stars were kids like him, so they needed to be helped by a kid too. If Robin was able to help, they would surely be better off than with these losers!

Robin loved Superman and Batman (he never really met Green Lantern before, but he disliked him now), but clearly, he was the man for the job.

Superman seemed to be on the same wavelength as him and said, “Let’s ask them! Maybe if we insist, they can give us more information as to why they were changed.”

"Superman, while I appreciate how you hold hope for helping everyone, I really don't think you can help... these." Green Lantern gestured to the window, where the four glowing beings were still spinning in place.

Robin felt heat flare up in his chest at his dismissive tone. How dare he brush off these stars!

Of course, if Robin had been older and not as hot-tempered and determined to hate Green Lantern, he would've seen that he seemed tired. All three of the adult heroes were confused by these beings and could not understand them, not like how Robin could. To them, it was a group of sentient, possibly highly dangerous stars that rivaled their own Sun, that could consume them all in great flames and heat.

They were paranoid, confused, and jaded, and that didn’t make a good combination when faced with beings that they could not understand, beings that they could not help and could kill them without moving.

But Robin didn't know that, so he was still fuming as Green Lantern continued speaking.

"There's no guarantee that Zatanna can help them. And we've only just started the Justice League a few months ago. We don't have many routes to help and we don't know if we can trust them. Or if they're being truthful."

Superman frowned.

"But..." he looked to Batman for help.

Batman was silent, avoiding his gaze.

Robin held back a sigh. Batman seemed allergic to emotions again. If Robin was there, he probably could've backed up Superman.

Adults were so annoying.

Green Lantern huffed. “I’ll ask them, okay? Stop looking at me like that, it feels weird that I’m falling for a grown man’s puppy eyes.”

Superman muttered to himself sullenly, “I wasn’t giving puppy eyes.”

Green Lantern addressed the little galaxy again, their song filling the room before he said, “Excuse me? I have one more question.”

The crackling singing stopped suddenly, and Robin got the feeling that they were annoyed and apprehensive.

“Speak.”

Green Lantern cleared his throat and asked, “Do you need any help? With anything? It’s only right that we help you if you’re helping us.”

More silence. Now it seemed kind of hesitant again.

“Is there anything at all? Anyone we can call?”

One voice in particular suddenly spoke up over the silence.

“… Robin.”

There was silence as Batman stood there, dumbfounded. "Who?"

Robin’s eyes widened. Were the stars talking about him?

Superman flinched.

Batman turned to him with wide eyes and then he whirled towards the door, where Robin had been accidentally leaning too far past the doorway to avoid being seen. He darted back in but it was still too late.

"Robin!" Batman barked. "How did you get on the ship?!"

Robin, realizing how futile it was to hide, poked his head back out. "You left me at home! And then went to space without me!"

Batman groaned. Then he whirled around to glare at Superman. "You knew about this!" He accused, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Superman laughed awkwardly. "Hahahah... uhh... I couldn't sense him?"

Batman put a hand on his cowl and groaned again, in lieu of taking a hand and rubbing it over his face, while Green Lantern gaped.

“Spooky, you’ve had a sidekick this whole time?! Do I even know you?!”

Robin rolled his eyes. He stood up and dusted himself off before walking closer. “I’m not a sidekick! I’m Batman’s partner!”

Batman huffed, but nodded. “Robin is not my sidekick.”

“This is bizarre as f— fudge,” Green Lantern finished lamely, and then pursed his lips together, looking at Robin with narrowed eyes. Robin returned the look. “How’d you even sneak in?”

“I’m not telling you,” Robin said, sticking out his tongue.

“Robin.” Batman glared at him.

Robin rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms. “Wonder Woman helped me.”

Batman rubbed at his eyes. "She and I will be having words after this."

Robin huffed. "Don't be mad at her! I asked her to help me!"

Batman muttered something that had Superman eying him warily.

Robin strode forward and pulled on Batman's cape. "Well, I'm still here. And I say that we help them."

"Kid, you don't understand the situation. They're dangerous. And we don't know anything about them," Green Lantern said, like he was a baby.

"Yes, we do! They're kids and I can help!"

Green Lantern scoffed. "You're what— eight?"

He was actually twelve, but for that, Robin was going to cut this guy’s shins.

Robin took out a wingding, ready to slash this asshole's ankles when he felt Batman lift him up by the armpits and hold him up in the air, forcing him to be still. Of course, he could’ve just left Batman’s hold and probably cut his ankles too, but he decided to be gracious and let Batman hold him.

He did, of course, kick Batman backwards in the chest for daring to put him in air jail, but his armor was too strong so it didn’t do anything.

Robin pouted and glared at Green Lantern with laser-like eyes before he made a slashing motion across his neck with the wingding.

Green Lantern stared at him with horror before he shouted, "Spooky, he just threatened me! Is this normal?! What demon child do you have??"

Superman, who was behind Robin, said, "What? Robin wouldn’t do that! He’s an angel!"

Robin smiled evilly. "Yeah. I'm an angel."

Green Lantern blanched.

Batman huffed a laugh. "You're demon spawn, alright. Stop swinging your birdarang. I gave those to you to fight crime, not other heroes."

"It's a wingding, B!”

He was put down after another moment of having his legs swinging midair, and because he was an absolute angel, he didn't move to cut Green Lantern's kneecaps.

It was apparently visible on his face what he wanted to do because Green Lantern shuddered and moved backwards to hide behind Superman.

Robin sniffed dismissively and then turned to Batman. "Batman, we should help them! They called for me— they need me!”

Batman grew serious again and shook his head. "You don’t know that. They could be dangerous. Robin, you shouldn’t have come here.”

Robin scowled furiously. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

Batman groaned, raising his head to stare at the stars as if they would somehow give him strength.

Robin snorted coldly and ignored Superman’s worried gaze before he strode forward and peered through the window. He shooed Batman away with a hand as he tried to approach him.

“Shoo! I’ll handle this.”

“Robin—“

“You owe me,” Robin said stubbornly. He glared at Batman, who looked even more uncomfortable. “You left me behind. Alone. You owe me! I’m your partner! I shouldn’t have to stay behind just because you told me to!”

Batman grimaced and then awkwardly, he started to say, “Chum—“

Robin interrupted him again. “Stay to the side. I’m Robin, and I’m your equal. They asked for me.” Placatingly, he added, “I’m only going to talk to them.”

Green Lantern was muttering something to Batman in a hushed whisper, but Robin didn’t pay attention to him. He just stared at Batman with furrowed eyebrows and a pout. The two of them stared at each other before Batman nodded slowly. He looked like he was constipated.

“Fine.” His voice sounded particularly tight, as if he was gritting his teeth. “You can only talk to them. And we’re staying here.”

“Fine,” he huffed.

Robin turned back towards the window. Each celestial object spun in place, lighting up with flares and bright bursts of light. The one black hole was still, while the other three spun around and around, as if to encourage him. The planets that circled them continued to do so slowly, waiting.

The singing had not started again.

“Hello. I’m Robin, and I’m here to help you.”

The radio crackled, and then there was a soft, “Hello, Robin.” The call of his name was gentle, a combination of different, reverbed voices with a strange sense of affection and care.

Robin smiled cheerfully. He liked them even more for calling his mother’s nickname for him so gently. “What do you need?”

"You can help us."

“How so? If it’s possible, I’ll do what I can!”

The one voice who spoke up earlier than spoke over the other stars once more.

“Only you can help me, Robin.”

It was said with so much quiet reverence and pleasant softness, that all of them froze. The celestial objects that been moving on their own suddenly stilled again, all in unison with the one black hole.

Robin tilted his head, but a feeling of pride swelled in his chest and he asked, “What do I need to do?”

“Robin!” Batman hissed warningly, but didn’t do anything yet.

“Oh shit,” Green Lantern said, a little too loud.

That one voice continued to speak, as the others quieted, “I’ll be yours. If you can also be mine.”

Robin blinked curiously. “What does that mean?”

“Robin! No!” Batman shouted, but the stars started to whisper loudly, a noisy buzz as they spoke amongst the sound of crackling audio and water. Outside the window, the other stars and planets continued to remain still while the black hole starting to move, humming and thrumming. It flared and glowed with its bright rings pulsing around it.

“You will be my human. And I’ll grow up with you.”

Robin thought of the fact that this star was also a kid, just like him.

The humming grew louder as Batman bristled like a bothered cat.

“So what’s in it for me?” Robin ignored him and grinned, rocking on his heels.

“Robin! Do not!”

It didn’t sound too bad, and something told him that this star of his wouldn’t hurt him. It was like an instinctive understanding, one where Robin knew that this being wouldn’t betray him.

“I’ll protect you. I’ll be your star.”

Robin beamed. With Batman hurriedly striding over to him to pull him backwards, Robin nodded and said sweetly as he put his hand on the glass, “Deal!”

The black hole that hummed outside of the window lit up with a flash and a light flew towards their ship, darting towards Robin like a concentrated sun beam.

Batman gasped, horrified, “Robin!” as he lunged forward to shield him, but the light got to him first, striking him through his outstretched hand and then into his heart. Robin gasped and Batman surged forward, holding onto him tightly.

“Robin! Chum, are you alright?!”

Warmth spread through his body and settled in his bones, safe and hot, like drinking hot chocolate on a cold winter night after a good day of patrol. Robin instinctively pulled off his glove and went, “Wow!” as pale lines appeared on his skin, a four pointed star that split into two between his ring and middle finger on his left hand.

Red, black, and blue bled into his skin until a star appeared when he put his fingers together, a swirl of beautiful colors.

Batman grabbed him and pulled him away from the window.

“Robin! Are you okay? Talk to me!”

“I’m fine, B! Look! Isn’t it cool?” Robin asked excitedly.

“No,” Batman said snappishly. “It is not cool. Are you hurt? Do you feel anything wrong?”

“Nope! Just peachy!” Robin said, wiggling his fingers and watching the colored lines flex. “I’m all good!”

He paused and looked at his mentor, his guardian, his foster father, his Batman. He patted him on the shoulder as Batman knelt before him.

“I’m okay, B, promise.”

The whispering of the stars continued, something sweet and hopeful in their voices as they chattered unintelligibly. The black hole continued to buzz and then all of them were moving in unison again, spinning in peaceful circles as if nothing just happened. The singing also continued, now sounding much happier.

Green Lantern and Superman were staring out the window in horror while Robin continued to look at his new tattoo.

He liked it a lot. It was so beautiful that his heart ached.

Batman stared at him for a long moment. Then he abruptly stood up.

“We’re leaving. Right now,” Batman said. He picked up Robin who startled and then began to whine.

“Nooooo, I said I’m okay! I’m seriously okay! It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye, B!”

Despite how Robin complained, his star only got to murmur a small, “Goodbye, my Robin,” through the radio before Batman swiftly took him out of the command room and into a smaller shuttle.

Robin scowled and kicked Batman in the arm, knowing that even if he escaped, he wouldn’t have anywhere to go in order to escape his overprotective partner. Both Green Lantern and Superman followed, the latter nervously inspecting his hand with his newly formed tattoo.

Robin crossed his arms to not let Superman gawk at his hand any longer before he demanded, “So I can come back here, right?”

“No.”

“Then how am I going to speak to my star?!”

This time, it was Green Lantern and Superman who said loudly, “No!”

Robin cried out furiously, “You all suck!”

Of course, a few weeks later, Robin still snuck in. The space ship that they were on was still located there, now permanently stationed near that little galaxy as Batman overzealously studied the celestial objects that somehow touched him with a magic that no one could recognize.

Thankfully, Robin’s star was still there, just as it normally was.

As Robin crept closer to the window, he pressed his face against the glass and smiled at the sight of his star, a dark and glowing black hole that was now greedily consuming the purple and pink nebulae around it.

“Hello, my star,” he whispered, and his star flared briefly, lighting up with red and gold hues.

Robin beamed.

Yes, it was a good thing that he snuck on that ship that day.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Yes, Robin is a demon child. Why? No reason, I just think it's funny. Dan and Dick suit each other 🤣

It’s like a ship but also not a ship? Like I don’t think I’ll give the Phantoms human forms (it’s so much more fun if they’re just stars, but maybe in the far, far, far future they can be humans) but at the same time, this is like…. A qpp. In a weird way. Dan is like 14 tho, and now that Dick has agreed to be his “host” (he’s around 12 now), they’ll grow up together. Please tell me if I should make it a ship or not.

Y’know, I almost wanted to not post another celestial object AU at all bc someone was really rude to me about my last post on this idea. DO NOT reblog my posts with passive aggressive and rude remarks about what is canon and what is not. If you look at my page, you’ll see that I focus on Danny Phantom and DPxDC. NOT DCU!! And even then!! I focus only on the Batfamily!!

You are free to correct me (someone did that some time ago and I appreciate it, they were truly and genuinely trying to be helpful and I feel bad bc they deleted their comments.), but do not tell me what is right or wrong with DCU canon 😒 I don’t consume any DCU media other than some cartoon shows and a few comics.

Sorry for the little rant, it infuriated me when I saw that reply. I’m happy with any comments I get, I just despise it when people give me their unsolicited opinions

Anyways, hope you liked this update! I think I might make this a series?

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Cuffed

Summary: Eddie has been ignoring & avoiding his best friend, Reader, for weeks now. Buck can’t stand it anymore & enlists Tommy to help him in his scheme to get the two of you talking again. 

TW/CW: Eddie Diaz x Reader, Get Together

Requested?: No 

Word Count: 2,215

A/N: This is entirely inspired by a dream I had. I’ve been watching too much 911 & simping over Eddie so I’m not surprised lmao. Hope you enjoy! Much love to all & REQUESTS ARE OPEN! P.S. I almost took this in a different direction & made it longer but couldn't bring myself to do it lol. If any smut writers wanna do it justice & finish it for me, be my guest!

[A/N: This dork makes me smile...]

--- Third Person POV --- 

     "Evan, do you really think it's a good idea to use Chris as bait so we can kidnap Eddie?" Tommy asks, rubbing his forehead at his boyfriend's scheme. 

     Buck looks at Tommy with an exasperated expression before turning to look at Chris who is sat at the kitchen table doing homework, "Chris can we use you as bait to get your dad and (Y/N) to talk again?" 

     "Whatever it takes, even if you have to kidnap me instead," Chris responds not even looking up from his papers. He too is just as frustrated with his father as Buck is, as everyone is. It has been weeks since the two previously inseparable best friends had any semblance of an interaction. Not for lack of trying on (Y/N)'s part though. She had tried and tried to get Eddie to at least acknowledge her existence, but he kept avoiding and ignoring her. She gave up and decided it was best to let him come to her. 

     Buck looks back at Tommy and gives him a pointed look to which the older man simply rolls his eyes, "Fine, what do you need me to do?" 

     Buck grins triumphantly, "Call (Y/N) and tell her that Chris insisted on going to her house because he doesn't want to be here. I'll call Eddie and tell him that Chris ran away to (Y/N)'s house. Carla is already on her way here to keep an eye on Chris." 

     Begrudgingly Tommy pulls out his phone to dial (Y/N)'s number. It rings once before she answers, "What's up pilot friend?" 

     "Pilot friend?" Tommy asks confused. (Y/N) is always coming up with silly nicknames for all her friends but this one is her worst yet. 

     "It's been a long shift, okay? That's the best I got right now," she admits. 

     Tommy looks at Buck who is bouncing on his tippy toes, trying to patiently wait for his turn. Tommy sighs, "Look, Chris insisted we take him to your house." He notices Carla enter and join Chris at the table before continuing, "He said something about being mad at his dad again and not wanting to be here." 

     On the other end of the line (Y/N) sighs, "Okay, I'm leaving now. I'll be there soon." With this she hangs up. 

     "She took the bait," Tommy says motioning to Buck who whips his phone out so fast he nearly throws it across the room. 

     Buck taps on Eddie's number and in no time, he answers, "What, Buck?" 

     "Nice to speak to you to, Eddie. Look we tried to stop him, but he took off to (Y/N)'s house," Buck sighs dramatically making Tommy roll his eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time. 

     "What? Why?" Eddie asks concerned. 

     "I don't know, man. Said he was mad at you again but wouldn't say why," Buck answers possibly a little too excitedly since his plan seems to be working. Eddie is quiet on the other end, so Buck asks, "Do you want us to meet you there?" 

     Eddie sighs, "Yeah, maybe if he won't listen to me when I tell him to come home then he'll listen to you." 

     "Alright, we'll see you in a bit," Buck tries to say but Eddie hangs up before he can get the first word out. Staring at his phone with an annoyed look he instead says, "He hung up on me." 

     Tommy is already heading for the door waving goodbye to Chris and Carla, so Buck quickly follows suit. They have to make it to (Y/N)'s house before she or Eddie does. Minutes later they're waiting patiently at (Y/N)'s kitchen counter bickering because Buck hadn't thought this far ahead. All he had was a plan to get them there and handcuffs to make sure they stay. He has no clue how to get them in the same room. 

     As (Y/N) pulls into her driveway, she wonders if the boys called Eddie but decides it doesn't matter, he'll just take Chris and leave if they did. She makes her way into her house to find Buck and Tommy standing at the kitchen counter. She drops her bag at the door and makes her way over to them, dropping her keys and phone on the counter when she does, "Where's Chris?" 

     Quick on his feet Tommy replies, "He's in your room. Pretty upset and won't let us in." 

     (Y/N) tilts her head at them, "Why is he in my room?" 

     Buck chimes in, "He said he felt safer and calmer in there." 

     (Y/N) runs her fingers through her hair and sighs, "Okay, I guess I'll go talk to him. Maybe he won't pull a stunt like his father has for weeks." She makes her way down the hallway to her room but thinks nothing of the fact that Buck and Tommy are right on her heels. She doesn't notice Buck pull a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket behind her back. (Y/N) knocks on her bedroom door before opening it slowly. She looks around the room and even under the bed, but Chris is nowhere to be seen. She turns around to her friends with confusion on her face but before she can say a word Tommy is sweeping her up onto his shoulder and plopping her onto the end of the bed as Buck immediately cuffs her left hand to the metal footboard. She looks up at them in pure confusion and shock, "What the hell?!" 

     Buck shrugs, "Sorry (Y/N). This is the only thing I could think of to get him to talk to you." Before she can say, "How exactly is this gonna help?" Tommy wraps the bandana he swiped from the top of her dresser around her head and ties it, covering her mouth to keep her quiet.  

     Buck gives his own look of confusion but Tommy shrugs, "Figured we don't want her warning him." (Y/N) glares up at her friends but Tommy simply ruffles her hair before pulling Buck out of the room. 

     Outside the closed bedroom door Tommy dishes out instructions, "Listen, same thing we did with her, except he's gonna see her when he opens the door and know it's a set up so we have to be quicker. Also, handcuff him to her other hand not the bed," Buck nods and the two return to the kitchen. 

     Moments later they repeat the process as planned and soon have Eddie handcuffed to (Y/N). Buck grins triumphantly and Tommy can't help but adore how happy this has made his darling boyfriend; he just hopes it works. Their two friends glare up at them. Eddie is the first to speak, "Why is she gagged?" 

     "Oh yeah, sorry about that (Y/N). Here let me," Buck removes the bandana and the three men look at her waiting for her to say something but all she does is glare up at them with her jaw clenched. 

     Without pulling his eyes away from her, Eddie chuckles, "She's not speaking, you guys are dead men walking." At this, (Y/N) turns her head to glare daggers at Eddie. 

     Tommy begins pulling Buck from the room, "I think we might all be dead when she gets loose," he admits closing the door behind them. 

     It's silent for several heart beats before Eddie finally speaks up, "I should've known this was a set up." 

     She grinds her teeth, "What so you could just avoid me even more?" Eddie sighs and looks down at where their hands are cuffed together. He knows he's upset her, but he can't bring himself to explain why. He looks up at her face to find her still glaring at the door Buck and Tommy left through. He finds her jaw so clenched it looks like it hurts.  

     With his free hand he reaches up and gently massages his thumb against her jaw, "You're gonna crack your teeth." She says nothing. He sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair.  

     It's silent for a few more moments before she finally speaks, "There's a paperclip in my side table drawer holding some pictures. Give it here so I can pick these cuffs." 

     Eddie looks over at the drawer but stops to think for a moment. He can't stand it anymore, "No." 

     She whips her head around to glare at him now, "What do you mean no? That's what you want isn't it? To be as far away from me as possible?" 

     He locks eyes with her and can see the hurt hidden away behind her anger, "Not at all." 

     Her gaze softens just the slightest bit and finally her jaw relaxes, "Then why?" 

     She doesn't need to specify, he knows exactly what she's referring to, "Because I'm a dumbass." 

     She laughs softly and looks away, "Can't argue with you there." Eddie lifts his free hand again to place it on the other side of her face and tug her to look at him. When she does, the anger is gone and all that remains is the pain. He mentally scolds himself for hurting her so badly. That's never what he intended to do. 

     He takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I-" something inside him tells him to just stop talking and leave it at that, perhaps fear, but he refuses, "I thought that by distancing myself from you I'd be saving both of us from getting hurt." 

     Astonishment etches her features, "What are you talking about, Eddie?" 

     He lets her face go and looks down at where his hand drops in his lap, "I thought if I distanced myself from you then these feelings would go away and I wouldn't risk losing our friendship but apparently I've risked it anyway." 

     With the hand that is cuffed to his she reaches up to tug his chin toward her. When they lock eyes again, she asks, "What feelings? What do you mean risk losing our friendship?" 

     He swallows hard before willing the words out of his mouth, "I love you (Y/N). I have for a while now. I know you don't feel the same and I didn't want to risk making it awkward between us." 

     Her facial expression goes slack, "You're really are a dumbass then huh?" His confusion prompts her to continue, "I love you too, idiot. It started as what I thought was a little crush the first time I met you, but god has it snowballed into more." 

     He can't think of anything to say in this moment. He doesn't want to think. All he wants to do is kiss her until they're both struggling to breathe. So, he does. His lips clash with hers and she doesn't pull away. Encouraged by this he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip to which she happily obliges. His free hand ghosts up her body to cup her jaw. She fumbles with their connected hands before finally managing to get her arm around his neck pulling him closer and letting his hand dangle from her's. It feels like eons later when the two finally part for air, but Eddie thinks it wasn't long enough.  

     She runs her thumb up and down his jaw, their faces still so close that their breaths fan each other's lips. She's the first to speak, "I wanted to yell at you. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out, but I can't. All I want right now is your lips on mine." 

     "These cuffs make it a little difficult huh?" he chuckles tugging their connection. She nods, laughing as she unravels her arm from around his neck. He leans toward the side table and sure enough finds a paperclip binding together pictures of them and their team. He returns to her side and hands it to her, allowing her to unlock the cuffs around their wrists. Just as she gets it unlocked, he grabs her hand and gently takes the paperclip back. She looks at him in shock as he frees his wrist and returns the paperclip to its job of binding together the photos, leaving her other wrist still locked to the end of the bed. 

     When he returns to her side, he peppers kisses along her jaw and neck. Her free hand automatically finds itself in his hair, but she jangles the other in frustration, "Eddie-"  

     He pulls away and shushes her with a finger against her lips before she can finish, "You're not going anywhere, Mi Amor." 

     She pouts as he leans into her making her back touch the bed. Sneakily, she grabs the other pair of handcuffs from where they absentmindedly left them on the bed. His return to her neck is cut short when she clicks the cuffs around his right wrist that has found its way to her hip. He pulls back just barely to look but that's all the space she needs to pull his hand up and attach it to the metal right beside hers. He looks between their hands and her face in surprise. 

     She grins mischievously, "You should've turned me loose." 

     He sighs and drops his head to rest on her collarbone, "Okay, but now I can't reach the paperclip." 

     Her grin gets wider as she places her hand on the back of his neck and tugs lightly on the ends of his hair, "Exactly." 

Masterlist

More 911

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List:

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[marvel-snape-writes]

hii i found your work recently and i love it so much!! would you be interested in continuing the storyline of the solo snape one-shot and writing one about him and the mirror of erised?

Infatuated Reflections Plagued By Self-loathing

Severus Snape x 🤫female character🤫/The Mirror of Erised

5.7k+ words

18+ solo smut 🤭

Thank you to the person who requested this! I hope you enjoy it, and I hope that the rollercoaster of emotions does your request the justice it deserves! 😊🫶

You’d have thought that for someone who was so often described as ‘an overgrown bat’ that nightfall would have been his favourite time of day, but not for Severus Snape. In reality, he hated when the day was over, the marking was done, and he had no other vices to drown out his own thoughts. The tossing and turning in his bed was often as a result of this. Though, albeit more often than he’d like to admit, he would sometimes think about how it must feel to spend the night with someone, rather than by himself. Not even necessarily for any fooling around, more for the company. Someone to hold, perhaps, or even someone to be held by. He knew he would be far too nervous, far too out of his depth, even, in order to hint at anything more. But just to have someone to carry him through the loneliness, that he couldn't deny he had wished for now and then.

Right now, he was sat at his desk and still trying to find different ways in which to procrastinate making the journey from his armchair to his bed. He couldn't put his finger on why, but tonight he felt a mixture of loneliness and a slight twinge of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps the company he was longing for tonight was something more along the lines of affection than just another body to lay to the side of in silence. His chin rested on the palm of his hand with his elbow bent on the table as he pondered into the gentle flicker of his desk candle how exactly could he get what he so craved whilst avoiding the embarrassment of speaking or bumping into a single person. He concluded only one answer: taking a visit to The Mirror of Erised.

‘Don’t be so absurd’, was the first internal voice of response. He stared down at the neatly stacked pieces of paper upon his desk and let out a deep sigh through his hooked nose. ‘You want company, you do not wish to be a burden, you do not wish for embarrassment. It is the only way’, a different voice then continued as his lip twitched, ‘Go’.

“Can I bring the mirror back to bed with me?” He asked out loud into the silence, his mind tampering with the slightly seducing reflections he may see in the mirror if it really did show the depths his desires would go on rare occasions.

There were few things he hated more than feeling like this. Very rarely he would let himself to give in to his own desires. Very rarely he would allow himself to even entertain the idea. On the rare occasion he did, it would be over in a flash; whether that be because of the self-loathed feeling of embarrassment he would bring upon himself for letting it come to that point where he had no choice except to chase his own release, or whether it was because the times between allowing pleasure into his life were so far apart that once he started, it only took a few minor strokes to reach his craved result; the hot, sticky blobs landing upon him almost as white as his own skin.

He could feel the frustration beginning to grow. It bubbled from the pit of his stomach and sent tingles down his thighs, clenching his fists a few times whilst swallowing hard. The times where he craved company that went further than just to have another person’s presence with him were what he’d fear the most. Not knowing how long it was going to last or how he would deal with it. Whether he would dare to allow himself to go through with the inevitable when it got too painful to even sleep. The feeling, the urges would come in waves. To him, they were more likened to waves of nausea — or should he say, they were about just as unwelcome as feeling nauseous. However, the way that one would ‘feel better’ after having thrown up after a long time of feeling sick, this was the same way he felt after he had given in to his own desires; not happy necessarily, certainly not proud, maybe a little relieved, but mostly just glad it was over.

Begrudgingly, he stood up from his armchair and brushed his hands down the front of his buttoned pyjama shirt. He pushed his chair back into his desk and glanced around the room to try and decide what would result in less speculation or questions if he were to be caught walking the corridors after hours. He was comfortable in his black bedclothes, but he definitely didn't have the confidence to be walking down the halls in them. His go-to solution was to grab his cloak and wrap it around his shoulders — and as much of his body as possible without looking completely ridiculous.

He stood by his chamber door for a few moments, one hand fixed on the handle and one pushing through his hair as he had a few last minute hesitations about going to find The Mirror of Erised. What would someone say if they saw him? What story would he make up? What if someone was in front of the mirror already? The thoughts took over his mind for several moments and he sighed deeply, taking one glance back at his empty bed before making the final decision to go ahead with the plan to at least attempt to fill his loneliness.

Thankfully, the corridors were quiet, or quiet enough at least to be able to hear if anyone else was coming in any other direction. Knowing exactly what to do and where to go in order to find The Mirror of Erised irritated him a little as he was hoping by the time it was in view, his desires may have calmed. They hadn’t.

As he saw the mirror in the distance, he pondered for a short while if this would be worth it at all. Would it make him feel even worse if he couldn't even converse with whatever would be standing in front of him? He stepped closer to it. What if he could cast a spell and make it talk? Or would that make it even worse?

He grumbled to himself as he approached the mirror and stood at the side of it, still in absolute disbelief that he had allowed himself to come this far. He pulled his cloak around him a little bit tighter as if for some sort of comfort — for the first time in a long time he actually felt a bit nervous. As he side stepped a little closer to the mirror, still not yet in front of it, he thought of all the possibilities that could be reflected; Which would it choose? Out of all the things in Severus Snape’s ‘ideal world’, which, in this exact moment in time, would The Mirror of Erised select as his most his desired?

He felt his heart race at the thought of the several possible outcomes and was unable to even move his feet, almost as if they had been glued to the floor. Often coming across as being so sure of himself and his actions, he was not familiar with this sudden anxiety surrounding the idea of standing in front of a mirror. He knew deep down it was because he was afraid of seeing for himself what it was that he really wanted, because if he could see it, then he knew it was real, and delving into his own thoughts and feelings and putting himself and his own desires first was something he hadn't done for years.

He took a deep breath and lifted one of his feet in order to step in front of the mirror before stopping himself in the process as he had a sudden thought; what if he were to cast the potential ‘talking’ spell on the mirror before standing in front of it? That way, if he didn't like what he saw, he could at least threaten whoever was on the other side with something if they didn't promise to keep tonight and his helplessness a secret.

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and gestured it toward the mirror, muttering the first thing that came into his head. He lowered his arm and placed his wand back into his pocket, waiting a few moments in complete silence. The breath he drew this time was even deeper than the one before, genuinely afraid of what he may discover next. His heart thumping in his chest and his hands growing sweaty, he took his first step in front of the mirror. Afraid to look at the image in front of him, his eyes instinctively closed once he was in line with it.

Just open them, Severus. Whatever you see, it is not real, he told himself, already embarrassed with how pathetic he felt. He calmed his breathing and swallowed hard, opening his eyes with a slight squint at first before opening them fully. To his surprise — or relief — there wasn't anything in the reflection of the mirror other than darkness. He couldn't even see himself. Not that he and his self-loathing was upset about it. He let out a shaky breath and stared directly at it, trying his best to focus on if there was anything he was missing. He arched a brow and sighed in defeat.

You can’t even stare into a mirror right, he grumbled inside his head, pulling his cloak around him tightly again and turning away from the mirror. He began to walk back to the door and pressed his lips together hard, unsure of if he was more angry or disappointed in himself. Even the mirror didn't have anything to offer him. Only seeing his own reflection? He knew there was a reason why he had never used the mirror for himself. What could a cold, reserved man possibly desire?

Already dreading who he would potentially bump into down the corridors back to his chamber, he placed his hand on the handle of the door to leave the room. The mirror was facing away from him now, his back toward the room, and he couldn't wait to pretend he had never even tried to communicate with it. He twisted the handle and began to pull it open, scowling to himself until he heard a voice from behind him speak into the empty room, “Severus, wait…”

The gentle voice shook him to his core, placing his free hand flat upon the wall at the side of the doorframe to try and steady himself. For a moment he convinced himself that he had imagined it, but the same gentle tone called for him again. His lips parted and he felt a shiver run down his spine, his fingertips now turning white from how hard they were pressed against the wall. His heart rate intensified wildly as he turned around and began walking back toward the mirror.

Once again, he approached the front of it with his eyes closed, still not fully convinced that his spell had worked. Had he made the mirror say what he craved most rather than showing him? Gradually, he opened his eyes again to find his answer. His head was dipped when his eyes opened fully, seeing only dainty feet. It was as his eyes trailed further up herbody that he felt himself dizzy with impossibility. Whether the reflection could speak to him or not, he found himself absolutely speechless. His eyes welled as he felt genuine emotion surge through his body for the first time in longer than he could even remember.

“I- It can’t be…” His voice trembled, bringing one of his hands to his mouth and speaking into it, “C-Can’t…”

His head shook as his eyes met the reflection in the mirror. Instead of seeing himself with what he apparently most desired, he only saw her alone. But that was enough. If he had seen himself with her after all these years, he was convinced he would've collapsed in an instant. She looked older, though she still had all the same familiarities he was so used to gazing upon in his youth. Still convinced that he was seeing things, he took a step closer. The slim figure in the mirror moved with him, shocking him to the point of stumbling backward a little and struggling to keep his balance. He desperately reached to a nearby table to try and stabilise himself, feeling himself growing more and more lightheaded by the second.

“Just take a breath,” She said, her eyes following him from the mirror, “Compose yourself,” The softness of her voice made him tingle, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You’re not here,” He shook his head manically, covering his face with his hands as he leant back against the table, “You are not here.”

“Look at me and tell me I’m not, Severus.” She replied.

Severus slowly lowered his hands from his face again and tried not to act so startled this time when he was met with her reflection yet again. He swallowed hard and exhaled deeply. She was every bit of stunning that he remembered. Even more so, actually. Now she looked a similar age to him, he could begin to imagine what life would have been like — could have been like. But that thought made his eyes well even more.

“How are you, Severus?” She asked in a gentle tone.

“Oh, that used to be such a simple question to answer…” Severus laughed weakly, his hands trembling madly as he dared to look her reflection in the eyes again.

“Well, you’re here,” She shrugged, “Living, breathing—”

“Barely,” Severus swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’d say more just existing.”

“Oh, Severus…” It was only two words but the way she said it earned a singular tear to run down his cheek. The caring, tender tone made him feel as if she had reached out her hand caressed it. He looked up at her reflection helplessly, catching his lip between his teeth when it began to quiver.

“I can't…” He inhaled shakily, “B—Believe it…”

His chest physically pained from what was in front of him, still only half believing it was true.

“What is it?” She asked, narrowing her eyebrows empathetically and speaking again when Severus failed to do so, “I cannot leave if I am what you desire the most. That's the rules. The mirror can't lie.”

Severus nodded uneasily, mumbling under his breath, “I do not deserve to desire,” He shrugged simply, “Wherever you are, I just hope you’re happy,” He swallowed the growing lump in his throat, “Whatever that means.”

“You deserve more than anyone to desire, Severus,” She smiled softly, “A man who has prevented himself from such feelings for so long.”

Severus’ lip twitched, now staring at his feet.

“It is only natural to—”

“Be weak and give in to it?” Severus asked, arching a brow.

“Do not think of it as giving in, think more that you are allowing yourself to feel.” She smiled kindly.

Severus felt himself go strangely numb and electric at the same time. His breathing became jittery and he was struggling to try and figure out what exactly it was that she meant. It wasn't that he didn't feel anything, it was more that he felt everything all at once; shock, sadness, happiness, helpless, regret, heartbreak, loneliness, that so-called desire she spoke of, aroused, even, and when he raised his head to look at her again, justified for all of the above.

“I won't tell if you don't, Severus.” She whispered.

“I-I’m sorry?” Severus widened his eyes.

Before he knew it, his mouth was as wide as his eyes. He watched in awe as she began to undress in front of him in the mirror, half not thinking he was worthy to witness such beauty, half being in so much awe he was unable to bring his eyes away. She stopped once she got to her underwear and left those items of clothing on, looking back into his eyes now. Severus’ eyes quickly diverted, however, now shyly looking at the floor

“For heavens sake, just do what every fibre of your being is telling you to,” She stood now with her hand on her hip, “Take a look.”

Severus’ breathing grew heavier, afraid of what would become of him if he looked at her properly.

“For me?” She bit her lip.

He took a shaky breath and lifted his head, “I…” He swallowed hard.

“Deserve to stop putting off your own desires?” She finished for him.

“I haven't had single desire in my life since the day you...” He began to admit, though couldn't finish the sentence, so only exhaled a sad sigh.

“That is absurd, Severus.” She shook her head.

“I have been afraid to open myself and love again because I fear the loss of it,” He forced himself to look into her eyes, “Because of the loss I felt when I lost you.” His voice was shaky, unsure of whether he felt more or less pathetic admitting this to a reflection in a mirror rather than an actual human being.

“We cannot never love again in fear of loss, Severus,” She frowned, “Otherwise we would never love again.”

“That is the point.” His words were spoken with a slightly sharper tongue this time, “In reality, your death barely happens to you at all, it happens to your friends and family. They’re the ones who feel it. They're the ones who have to deal with it. Day in, day out. Nothing but pain and sadness, nothing but—”

“Severus, Severus!” She butted in, in an attempt to stop him digging himself a deeper hole, “I am here right now, aren't I? The one thing you desire the most? The one telling you that it is okay to have desires and lust. It is completely natural to have a burning want for something and go ahead and allow yourself to feel it,” Their eyes met in the mirror again, “Why is it yourself that you are so unforgiving?”

“Why do you insist on staying and breaking my heart?” He spoke with the most pained expression on his face.

“This is me telling you that it is okay. What is it that you want from me, permission to give in to what you crave the most?” She asked.

“Yes!” Severus practically pleaded, his eyes burning with threat of bursting into tears.

HERE

He watched as the image in the mirror reached behind, unclasping her bra and dropping it carelessly to the floor whilst not even breaking eye contact for a moment, “Is that enough?”

Severus’ body shivered from head to toe at the image before him. His eyes twitched. His lips twitched. His cock twitched. He swore he could even hear his heartbeat. Even though she wasn't real, even though she was just a reflection, the effect she was having upon him that once felt like a sin now felt so natural. It was as if her permission had allowed him to feel this way. As if that was all he ever needed in order to allow himself pleasure in anything after her death.

“Fuck…” He muttered under his breath as cock stirred in his underwear, unable to tear his eyes off the image in front of him. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over his crotch and inhaled sharply when he felt the obvious bump.

“Too scared to see the damage, Severus?” She taunted him through the mirror.

“You—”

“And don't even think about blaming me,” She snapped quickly, “This is all inside your head, not mine.”

Severus’ lips pressed together — he was far too aroused at this point to argue. Even if it would be arguing with a reflection in a mirror. He felt like he was having an out-of-body-experience. His palm brushed back and forth over the bump in the front of his pyjama bottoms and he swallowed hard, feeling the temperature in his body rise. The instinct to chase his arousal had hit him like a ton of bricks; he wanted it, needed it, and had been instructed to do so by the only person who could command him to do anything.

“Is this you giving in to your desires, Severus?” She asked, biting her lip from the view.

“Giving in to you,” He inhaled shakily, “Always giving in to you.”

“Show me.” She whispered.

Severus felt a shiver all the way down to the tip of his cock from her tone of voice and pushed his hand into the front of his pyjamas, then boxers. He could feel himself throb from the simple motion of just brushing his fingertips over the bare skin. For the first time in a long time, he showed barely any hesitation as he wrapped his hand around his cock completely, gently giving himself some slow strokes as his body adjusted to this rare form of pleasure.

“Y…” He squeaked as he watched her topless reflection, “You…”

“Feast upon the image to your hearts content, Severus,” She pressed her hands against the sides of her breasts and pushed them together, “If my permission is what it took to allow a little only natural pleasure into your life, it’s all yours.”

“All… mine…” He breathed out, the thought alone making his body ache with want. His wrist also ached from the restriction his clothing was giving him as he continued to stroke his length up and down.

“Do you like the thought of that?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Fuck, yes.” He nodded quickly.

“I told you to show me.” Her eyes gestured to his hand moving back and forth in the front of his pants.

Severus inhaled sharply, his eyes remaining completely fixated to hers as he pushed down the front of his pyjama pants and boxers. He moaned quietly at the new freedom of his wrist, but it still wasn't enough. He pushed the waistband of both items of clothing down so that they were set below his hips, allowing his pulsating length and aching balls to be completely free and on show. His mouth continued to gape as his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing himself gently before starting to stroke it up and down again, bringing himself even closer to the mirror.

“That’s it, Severus,” The reflection cooed, “Chase that feeling you've been denying yourself for all this time.”

He reached out a shaky hand and placed it against the boarder of the mirror, helping steady himself as he stood with parted legs. His fist slid up and down with ease, perhaps a little bit too much ease, but this situation was playing with his head in more ways than one. Usually, on the scarce occasions he found himself with his hand wrapped around his cock, his eyes would be closed in order to flood his head with images that would get him off the fastest, but now his eyes remained open. Those images were right in front of him. His eyes took their time in tracing every detail of her bare body, the only item left upon her being her bottom underwear. The fact that is was exactly how he had imagined her to be, exactly what he dreamed to have and hold each night he closed his eyes; beautifully aged, just how he always pictured she would be. His eyes settling upon her breasts earned a particular throb from his cock, urging him to speed his hand up. Her eyes followed his and he let out several soft whimpers, his lips still parted as precum leaked into his fist, making the movements even slicker. He was completely and utterly mesmerised by her reflection.

He wanted to reach out and touch her. Every inch of her, skin on skin. He craved it. He had never seen such beauty like this so close. Sure, he had dreamed of growing old with her and being able to hold her at every stage of aging life, but he never thought he would get this close. So close, but yet so far. So out of reach, but such a stunning reflection before him. It was like turning torture into art.

“Agh, shit…” He grunted when he purposely brushed his hand under the head of his cock with a little more pressure a couple of times. He rolled onto his tiptoes and felt his entire body shudder in pleasure.

“Are you sure you want to chase the ending that fast, Severus?” Asked the mirror.

“Wh-Wha…” His heavy gaze lifted to hers.

“You don't want it to be over so quickly, do you?” She spoke softly, “Not after how long you've just gone without it,” Her eyes glanced down to his pumping fist for a brief moment, “Savour it.”

One hand stayed against the boarder around the mirror and the other remained around his cock, breathing heavily as his movements slowed down. Instead, he tapped his fingertip against the tip of his length and inhaled shakily when he saw the string of precum attached between them. He whimpered manically as he spread the stickiness around the head of his cock and narrowed his eyebrows, pressing his lips firmly together to try and not make a sound. After a few moments, he wrapped his fist a little looser around himself and parted his legs slightly more. He let go and glanced down at his stubborn arousal, lightly tracing a sticky finger back and forth over the prominent vein bulging against his skin.

“Oh, oh, ohhh…” He hissed through clenched teeth, but he couldn't take it for long; before he knew it, his fist was back around him fully again, though loose enough still to allow swift movements.

“Are you going to fuck your hand and pretend it's mine?” The reflection asked, biting her lip as her eyes fell to his hand again, “Pretend it's me?”

His free hand now lay flat against the border of the mirror and he took a deep, shaky breath. His eyes met with hers and he began to slowly move his hips back and forth, thrusting into his open fist. He shuddered in pleasure and dared himself to tighten his fist and his mouth fell open, moaning “fuck” every few seconds. His hand moved from pressing against the border of the mirror to gripping onto it and grunting every time he bucked his hips, his fingertips now turning white and slightly painful from how desperately he was holding onto it.

“Mmmhh…” He groaned lowly, feeling himself pulsate madly in his grip.

“You’re being so good to yourself, Severus,” Her reflection purred, “Does it feel nice to allow yourself to give in to your desires?”

Severus couldn't even fathom a verbal response. His jerking wrist was now working in time with his hips, his lips pressed firmly together to try and not allow any louder moans to pass through them. His fist twisted and moved in perfect rhythm, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was doing it without guilt. His eyes which would usually be squeezed shut to try and block out the shame were — albeit heavy — wide open and burning into hers. There wasn't a thing that could stop him at this point, not even the fact that he hadn't locked the door. He was so focused on chasing his release at this point, he couldn't even spare himself a moment to reach for his wand and cast a spell to lock it, either.

“Ugh, fuck, I…” He inhaled sharply, “I-I’m so close…” His breathing became even more jittery, “S…”

“Are you going to cum, Severus?” Her reflection asked, biting her lip.

“Y—Yes… yes!” He whined helplessly, his fist firing relentlessly up and down his entire length.

“Are you going to cum for me, Severus?” Her voice was the most seductive thing he had ever heard.

His thighs tensed and the flickering sparks in the pit of his stomach grew into embers and began to rise higher and higher, earning a jolt of his hips into his hand. He quickly removed his hand from the mirror and placed it just beneath the tip of his length, his jaw tensing and toes curled, suddenly feeling the pleasure of a thousand summer days spent with her hit him all at once in some form of sticky euphoria as his climax began to land upon his cupped hand. He felt dizzy with pleasure and had no choice other than to place his hand back against the border of the mirror again to steady himself whilst his other hand was far too busy pumping up and down his length — the orgasm of which was now spraying against the mirror itself.

“Oh, g—good, god!” Severus’ voice was practically strangled, the veins in his neck almost popping out as his head swung back in ecstasy, “Fuck! Mmmh!” His fist continued to pump recklessly up and down his length and his eyes rolled back, string after string of its effect continuing to land upon the mirror. His wrist ached but the movements continued, grunting breathlessly as he refused to stop.

“Severus, Severus,” She whispered softly as his head remained tilted back, “Say my name…” She spoke in a firm but gentle voice.

Severus regained the strength to lift his head again and opened his eyes, twitching cock still in hand and feeling his heart skip a beat once their eyes met again. He swallowed hard and panted heavily, paying no mind to the mess he had made upon the mirror now trailing down the surface of it. The relief he felt was like something he had barely ever experienced. Euphoric, guilt free relief.

“Say it.” She whispered again, smiling sweetly.

Severus licked his lips shakily, his eyes flickering to the reflection of her lips in the mirror and leaned forward. He pursed his lips and allowed his eyes to fall shut as they pressed upon the mirror itself whilst whispering, “Lilly.”

He placed his hand flat upon the mirror at the side of his head in some hope of being able to feel her. His lips remained pressed against the mirror in some hope he would be able to taste her. He couldn't. It was just cold. Numb. And when he pulled back to gaze upon Lilly’s reflection in the mirror once more, so was his heart. She was gone.

He felt like his heart had been completely torn out of his chest. His eyes welled with tears; frustration, heartbreak, shock and sadness all mixed into one. His hand pressed against the mirror again as if hers would be there to touch it on the other side. Still nothing.

“N—No… no.” His lip quivered, desperately trying to think of any way to bring her back to him again, “Tell me it wasn't real…” He inhaled shakily, “Tell me I just imagined it…” His burning, tear filled eyes stared back at only his own reflection, “No, no, no!” His self-loathing surging through his veins like never before, “My heart is already breaking, why don't you just twist the fucking knife?!”

He felt beyond overwhelmed with emotion, as if he was about to hyperventilate as he panted. In a moment of both weakness and madness, his fist pounded against the mirror a couple of times, though only for want to hurt himself rather than the reflection of her that once stood there. The room was silent despite his sobs. He forced his red eyes open and parted his trembling lips, shaking his head as he stared helplessly into the mirror whilst whimpering.

“I just…” He inhaled deeply, pleading loud in his voice now, “I just cannot face myself alone again.”

He turned himself around and leant back against the mirror, sliding down it with the hope of landing and sleeping in herembrace at last. He buried his face in his hands and continued to bawl, tears now seeping through his fingers and trailing down his wrists. Anyone who walked past the room would think that something was dying inside, but to Severus it felt as if something already had; a wound that had already been far from healed ripped wide open again and stinging him all the more this time in the process. He felt what it was like to have her there with him and then lose her right in front of him all over again.

‘Why had she gone? This wasn't how the mirror worked.’, were the words whizzing around his head. He hated that he had come to this conclusion, but he saw no other way; deep down, he would never want her to see him like this; miserable, embarrassed, alone. His desire was for her to tell him that giving in to what he desired most was okay, and she did that. She saw him with his lustful, loyal eyes. She saw him allowing himself to feel pleasure after all these years of avoiding it, feeling unworthy. He didn't desire for her to see how he really felt now that she was gone and the years since. She really only ever got the better version of him, and even subconsciously he made sure of that.

He had never really known love until it came to him in the form of her, and he felt as if his heart was no longer needed ever since she was no longer here. He knew even if he did allow himself to feel for someone who wasn't her, she would always be the constant in his life — regardless of whether she was living, a reflection, or not here at all. She lived so deeply in his heart she was almost like a dagger; if removed, he would die. The promise he made because of her kept him alive. Though far gone from this world, she kept him alive.

“Lilly…” He finally removed his hands and rubbed his puffy eyes, sniffling, “Oh, my sweet Lilly,” He swallowed the lump in his throat, wiping under his eyes, “Don't leave me in charge of my own heart. It only knows you.”

He heard the rain hit against the window and took a deep breath. Even the sky was crying, mourning with him all over again. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The infatuated reflections plagued by self-loathing, the once guilt-free pleasure that he felt only a few moments ago was gone, just like her, and only left him wondering how it was possible for something so beautiful to cause him such pain.

---

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know your thoughts 🫢😁♥️

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[lupinsweater]

Okay, so, I have never done a request before so excuse me if it's rly weird and u can absolutely ignore it if u want to!

I LOVE LOVE LOVE ur writing and I was wondering if I could request a young! Remus Lupin x reader and they're just in his dormitory, smoking while reading and it's very fluffy and cute.

If this is weird please ignore it😭 anyway Ily:)))

omg thank you SO SO much for your request! this is a smaller one but i hope i've done your idea justice! i just love remus so much🤎

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader 💌 531 words

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

You were curled up on Remus's bed. The dorm room was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of pages turning and the David Bowie album playing at a soft volume from Sirius's record player. Your head was resting in Remus's lap, his fingers playing softly with your hair. The window was cracked just enough to let the cool autumn breeze in, though it didn't do much to clear the smoky haze that was swirling lazily through the room. You both had books propped open, yours resting against your legs and his resting against the side of your head.

You took a slow drag from the cigarette between your fingers, feeling its familiar warmth settle in your chest as you propped yourself up against one of Remus's legs. Remus glanced over at you, a small smile on his lips as he watched you exhale the smoke toward the ceiling.

You reached your arm back, offering the cigarette to Remus. He took the cigarette from you, the small stick passing between your fingers easily. He let the smoke pass through his lips before flicking it over to the ashtray on his nightstand, letting it sizzle as it extinguished. You watched him intently, a soft smile settling on your face.

“You’re supposed to be reading,” Remus teased gently as he looked over at you. His voice was low and soothing in the haze of the room.

“I am reading,” you said with a soft giggle, gesturing towards the book on your lap. Though, if you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t absorbed a single word on the page in a long time.

Remus chuckled, the sound warm and low. “Sure you are, dove.” He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head before propping his book back up against you. You hummed softly, resting your head against his propped legs.

“You ever wonder,” you started after a moment, hesitant to break the comfortable quiet of the room, “why moments like this just feel…right?”

Remus peered down at you, and for a second, it seemed like he wasn’t quite sure how to answer. But then he shrugged, his lips quirking into a small smile as he brushed some hair away from your face. “Maybe because we’re not trying too hard.” He grabbed a new cigarette, lighting it with his wand and taking a hit.

You propped up on your elbows, tilting your head at him with a thoughtful look. But as you watched him, a warmth settled in your chest that was better than the one provided by the cigarette. “Yeah,” you said softly, taking the newly lit cigarette from his hand. “That’s it.”

You pushed yourself up as you took a lazy drag, exhaling the smoke as you leaned back against the headboard next to him. Remus smiled, leaning his head against your shoulder. You could feel his soft breath, calm and steady, and it was impossible not to relax into the feeling.

“You’re good company,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your sleeve.

You smiled, your limbs feeling perfectly heavy as you rested your head against his, combing your hair through his fingers. “Yeah?” you hummed in a whisper. “You too.”

[nolita-fairytale]

bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder. 

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news. 

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’ 

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear. 

A visitor? 

“Wh-?” 

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go. 

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef. 

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval. 

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it. 

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable. 

Must be a prank or some shit…. 

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it? 

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you. 

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.  

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly. 

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that: 

“You’re not Carmen.” 

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.” 

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette. 

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time. 

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest. 

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time. 

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out. 

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael. 

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly. 

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all. 

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him. 

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.” 

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside. 

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

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night. 

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction. 

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart. 

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.” 

Carmy tries again. 

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.” 

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next. 

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away. 

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?” 

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over. 

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?” 

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down. 

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you. 

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further. 

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view. 

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that: 

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?” 

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy. 

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.” 

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay. 

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh. 

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look. 

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology. 

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him. 

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.” 

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy. 

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued. 

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction. 

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it. 

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval. 

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him. 

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees. 

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies. 

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth. 

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.” 

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

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots. 

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots. 

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass. 

Carmy hesitates. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with. 

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit. 

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition. 

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself. 

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued. 

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!” 

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look. 

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement. 

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!” 

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with: 

“... just like the one John Lennon had!” 

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again. 

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll. 

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.” 

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction. 

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open. 

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation. 

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head. 

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation. 

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot. 

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that." 

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time. 

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?" 

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.” 

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother. 

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that. 

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear." 

There it is again.

That feeling. 

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him. 

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out." 

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims: 

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!" 

"Carm-." 

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair. 

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him. 

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?” 

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you. 

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother. 

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together. 

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on. 

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm. 

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar. 

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

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is. 

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet. 

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle. 

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you. 

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice. 

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too. 

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands. 

Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.” 

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself. 

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard. 

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.  

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

[14buddy22]

Hey if you're looking for Hotch requests, what about Hotch dealing with a crush on a non-bau sunshine reader when he's still sad after the divorce/Foyet but he's so confused by his feelings because it's been so long that he doesn't know what's going on??

Like if it's case related, maybe he thinks reader is a suspect because why else would he be so on edge around her and it's just so painfully obvious to everyone else. Idk if that makes sense but I just think Hotch being so out of touch with his emotions despite being a profiler would be funny lol

Feel free to adapt and make it your own!! Thanks!!

Thanks for your request! I hope it lives up to your expectation!

You were the best damn bartender in Quantico, Virginia. At least, that's what you thought to yourself. You made work fun. You worked in a club environment so if you wore something scandalous, flirted with the customers a bit, you were sure to bring in a hefty tip at the end of the night.

But, you loved the hustle and bustle of it. You loved the interactions, loved singing along to the bands or the good music. You loved having conversations with the locals, loved celebrating parties for kids turning 21, people getting married, or hell, people getting divorced.

Then you met who you swore is your soulmate. Something in you stilled when you were bartending. You never froze up at your job. You were good at what you do. But seeing him walk through that door, looking all handsome in a suit, he took your breath away. You watched how he interracted with the bouncer.

You watched him show his badge to your best friend. FBI. An average Joe wouldn't just waltz into your bar, you knew he was a sophisticated man.

But when he locked eyes with you, you felt like the bar had heated up 100 degrees. Making his way over to you, you were trying to calm down. What had you feeling like this?

"Hi, I'm Agent Hotchner with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI. It's my understanding from the gentleman at the front that you are the lead bartender?"

You finished making your drink for one of the locals and asked your partner to manage the bar. Luckily it was early evening and the college kids had about another hour before they started flooding in so you knew you'd be okay leaving her by herself.

"Yes, I'm Y/n Y/L/N. It's nice to meet you. How can I help you?"

You shook his hand, and you swore you both held it for longer than you both intended.

All I could think was that she was beautiful. No, no, I can't think like that. My wife, ex-wife was brutally murdered a little over a year ago. Something's different talking to her, to-Y/n. Something I haven't felt in a while but I don't know what it is.

She's a bartender. I hear she's a damn good one. Maybe that's why she's about to be the suspect in a string of murders. Men have been killed shortly after they leave this bar. Traces of posion have come back on the tox screen. Bartenders have access to the drinks and alcohol before they serve, y/n's the perfect suspect.

But she's beautiful, and I haven't seen her stop smiling at all. She has a gorgeous smile. She'd be the sunshine on the rainiest days for the men that have been murdered. Before I know it, my thoughts and feelings consumed me, I'm still holding her hand. I could feel Dave's eyes burning a hole into me.

"Have you heard about the three men murdered around town?"

"Yeah, I have. It's very unfortunate. They were great men. At least to me. They tipped well and always had friendly conversations. They also stood up for me if some men coming in here for the first time were getting a little handsy with me."

Oh how I wished I could be the one to make sure no one got handsy with her. Wait, what am I saying? She's a suspect, she doesn't know it, but she is.

"How were they killed?"

Agent Hotchner's partner spoke up to answer your question.

"They were poisoned."

Ugh, these poor men. Had to die a slow pain, they didn't deserve it. They deserved justice now.

"We just wanted to come in to see if anything unusual has happened lately."

"I've seen a lot of crime shows with my ex-boyfriends before. You're really trying to see if I did it. Which I didn't. I don't think I have the heart to kill anyone. I broke up with my last ex because he hunted and I couldn't bare the thought of killing animals."

Of course you broke up with your ex because of that. But I have a job to do and I have to investigate further. Plenty of killers have lied straight to my face before.

"We'll be in touch Ms. Y/l/n, thank you for your time."

You smiled and shook their hands one last time before you went back to working your shift. Something about Aaron caught my eye. Maybe it's the way he was blushing like a school boy. You're not sure, but he was handsome.

Just when Aaron walked into the bar, you smiled at him, offering him a drink.

"Agent Hotchner, it's good to see you again."

Your smile never waivered. Maybe you would shoot your shot with him.

I can't believe I have to do this. Arrest someone this pretty. Arrest this girl who Rossi thinks I have feelings for. What? Feelings? That's an intense word, but I have to arrest her.

"Unfortunately I'm here to place you under arrest."

I watched all the color drain from her face. I watched her smile fall so fast. But it had to be her. Rossi and the team wasn't so sure, but I have a gut feeling it's her. Of course with it being my team, they weren't going to stop me. I took her sunshine away.

"Agent Hotchner, I, I didn't do anything."

Your manager saw what was going on, he was like your work dad. He took care of you like his daughter, despite him having sons, he treated you like his princess. You heard him say say, "Y/n, I'm getting you a lawyer, do not speak. I know you didn't do this. But I'll meet you where they're taking you."

You smiled back at him, tears filling your eyes. You wanted to make everyone happy, you never wanted to hurt anyone. How are you being arrested? You didn't do anything wrong.

Your ride back in Aaron's SUV was silent. How could you think he was your soulmate? Your soulmate would never arrest you. But you were still feeling something, you couldn't explain it.

I keep looking in the rearview mirror at her. I had to trust my gut. She poisioned those men. But why do I feel so guilty arresting her. From the time we had met her, been surveillencing her, up until I placed the handcuffs on her, she had smiled. Everyone spoke highly of her. I took away her sunshine. I did that.

As you walked into an interrogation room, Aaron sat you down in the seat, then took off your hand cuffs, handcuffing one hand to the table instead.

"We'll wait for your lawyer, do you need anything?"

"No."

You couldn't even look at him. How could her. You told him you didn't do it.

As I walked out, I was greeted with Penelope. "Sir, she has nothing on her record, not even a speeding ticket. I've looked through her social media posts and everyone spoke so highly of her. Friends were making special post to thank her for being a great friend. She took care of everyone. Sir, I-I know I'm not an agent, but I just can't believe it's her."

Penelope was cut off by my phone ringing, picking it up after viewing the caller I.D.

Morgan said, "Hotch, we got the wrong girl. It's Y/n's bartending partner. I just watcher her slip something into this guy's drink. I'm bringing her in, we can cut Y/n loose. You can be happy now. Y/n's not a killer. What that gut feeling is, is your feelings that you like her Hotch. You haven't felt that since Haley. I know it's been 20 years, but trust me man. Y/n is something special, according to the track record she has. She's the opposite of a killer. She's just the type of sunshine that you and Jack need in your life."

Aaron walked in and said, "I'm sorry, there has been a huge mistake. You are free to go. It was the other bartender you worked with.

"What? There's no way. She's amazing at what she does."

Aaron shook her head and said, "One of my agents was in the bar watching the entire time, he was undercover. He watched her slip something in another man's drink."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you got the right killer. If, if you don't mind, can one of your agents give me a ride home? I don't have my car, obviously."

You didn't know how to feel. You knew you didn't do anything, but was Agent Hotchner always going to have a doubt in his mind that you were a killer?

You got in his car, this time sitting in the front seat. A storm was coming in, you enjoyed the rain and thunder, it calmed you. You two rode in silence, when he dropped you of at your apartment, he walked you up.

When you opened your door, you turned around to thank him, instead that didn't come out.

"I told you I didn't do it, ya know?"

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I. There's something about you, y/n. I thought you were a suspect, but you should've never been one."

As your eyes were red and filled with tears, you looked at the man who you thought was your soulmate, instead, he had ruined you. Yes, you two didn't date, yes, you didn't hook up, but there was something there.

"Well then why the hell did you do this, Aaron? Why arrest me?"

"My ex-wife passed away a year ago. I haven't had feelings for anyone in nearly 20 years. My feelings for you confused me. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't know what these feelings were because I've been so out of touch with them. And it took me a minute to realize that these feelings are because I didn't think you were a killer, I thought you were beautiful. I think you're beautiful. But that gut feeling was that I think. I think I've found my soulmate."

As she stepped closer to me, I watched the sunshine fill her eyes again, her smile creeping up her face. God, was she beautiful and amazing, and from her friend's testimonies who I interviewed, she was a down right amazing person. Just the absolute sunshine to be around.

You were going to kiss Aaron. You were glad he figured out his feelings. This was going to be the start of something new. You didn't know what happened to his ex, you'd find out someday. You took the chance. You placed your hands on Aaron's hips and leaned in to kiss him. You were so happy that Aaron felt the same way. How did you know this? He placed his hands on your face and kissed you back like you were the only sunshine he'd ever see again.

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

72- Laughter and Mortified Robins

Bruce had been passing up the TV room when heard your loud laugh followed by Jason’s quiet, low one. The door was open slightly, allowing him to look in just enough to see the two of you sitting on the couch facing each other. Curious, he stood there and watched. 

“I was mortified,” Jason said, a little smile on his face. Mortified; surprisingly, Bruce could hardly imagine adult Jason being other than slightly amused, a little in love, or stoic. “And there was the whole Justice League just staring at me.”

You laughed again, but Bruce didn’t look at you. 

No, instead he was looking at Jason. He watched as his son stared at you, green eyes filled with excitement as he continued into another funny story. It didn’t take Bruce long to figure out that his son wanted to make you laugh, trying his hardest to share the most absurd stories from his Robin days. Comparing the rest of his children to a younger Jason, it was easy for him to say that Jay was the most sensitive and loving one. Now, despite the added angst and aloofness, Bruce could see that his son managed to keep a bit of his younger self intact. 

Your laughter rang out loud again and a grin broke out onto Jason’s face. It wasn’t long before he went into another long, detailed story that would leave you in stitches again. As he told the story, you reached up to twirl a piece of Jason’s black hair, and a subtle blush fell onto his cheeks. 

Bruce leaned in further to hear what Jay was telling you, but, in doing so, he pushed the door open further with an audible squeak. You looked over your shoulder momentarily, your smile becoming brighter as you quickly urged Mr. Wayne to come sit with the two of you. A quick glance at Jason told him he’d rather Bruce fuck off somewhere in the manor, but you had been so sweet as to invite him that saying no would seem like a slight.

He took a seat across from the two of you and waited for something to be said. When Bruce wasn’t the first to say anything to you, you asked about him. You asked how his day was, if he managed to get that project he'd been working on finished, and all the other things that were polite to ask. Alfred would have been proud of you. 

Jason wasn’t having it, though, and asked bluntly, “Were you watching us?”

Bruce was always quick on his feet, but this wasn’t a situation he had been in before so the words were lost on him. Luckily, you didn’t give him a chance to come up with something. “Probably came to see what all the loud laughing was.”

That seemed to be an answer Jason liked from just how wide his grin was. Now that was something Bruce hadn’t seen in a while. It had to be a slip, too, because just as that familiar, boyish grin was there it was gone. Thinning his lips, Jason nodded his head, looking at you like you had shown him how to breathe. 

“She’s right,” Bruce said, glancing at you before looking at Jay. “What story were you telling?”

You smiled, looking at Jason expectantly and excitedly. The two of you exchanged a knowing glance, and Bruce thought he would give anything to know what the two of you were quietly exchanging. After a second, Jason finally looked at Bruce, smiling. 

“Well, it’s a hell of a story,” He started. 

Leaning back into his chair, Bruce was prepared to laugh with his son for the first time in a long, long while.

[tacobacoyeet]

pleaseee right more harry fluff!! heres a list of ideas i have, ofc if you don’t want to you don’t have to!!

-bf headcanons

-sfw alphabet

-him during umbridge detention and she like makes him watch y/n do the quill

-something going along to the song slut! by taylor swift ❤️❤️

and ofc js anything is fine😭

good harry writing is hard to find on this app

slut! | h.p.

a/n: a short and sweet little fic based off of my interpretation of slut! by taylor swift. it might be a tad too on the nose but @ssturniolo92 i hope i did your request justice!

warnings: there are a lot of different harry personalities across tumblr- this is my interpretation of him. cursing, harry james potter being just the best as always, a touch angsty, NOT PROOFREAD!

beautiful hues of gold, white, silver, and all sorts of colors were the first things that caught your attention as you stepped into the yule ball. your hand held harry’s arm as your heels clicked on the floor. you were dressed in a beautiful aquamarine gown, which glittered in the candlelight of the stunningly decorated ballroom. the chatter in the room grew quiet as everyone’s stares locked on you and your boyfriend… the coveted hogwarts triwizard champion. there was not much time for you to survey the room before professor mcgonagall steered you and harry off for the champion’s waltz, but it was enough time for your ears to catch the whispers. whispers of how harry looked ‘absolutely ravishing,’ how your dress was ‘...certainly a choice,’ and whispers of how you were probably only ‘using harry… what a slut!’ you sighed deeply, forcing yourself to stand tall as the two of you took to the dance floor.

“look at me,” he whispered, forcing you to meet his eyes as he guided you around the dance floor.

“it’s just you and me.”

you smiled weakly at him. what else could you do? a gaggle of girls nearby whispered loudly about what they would’ve done to be on harry’s arm for the night.

“god, he’s just devastatingly handsome, isn’t he?” one of them asked, eliciting a cacophony of giggles.

he sighed softly, taking notice of the thin layer of tears in your eyes. suddenly, he pulled you close, into his chest.

“i’m all yours.”

~

a little later in the evening, you found yourself several drinks in, a soft buzz coursing through your body as you people-watched, but all you could think about was how much you loved your boyfriend. you’d been dating for almost a year now, and the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other. when he first asked you out, you told him he was making a mistake.

“dating someone like me is going to blow up in your face, harry! people like you don’t date people like me.”

he never took that as an answer, though. and to be fair, it didn’t exactly blow up in his face as much as it had in yours. the whispers, the rumors, they were all an attack on you. but that was a price you were willing to pay for the man you loved to never pay it himself- but that was just because he was the boy who lived.

your thoughts ran rampant as the alcohol flowed through your body, leaving a fire in its wake. you glinted your eyes as you surveyed the room. you’d cry about the people that hated you later. right now? you looked fine as hell, and you intended to do something about it.

it wasn’t long until you had found harry and planted a deep, long kiss on his lips. 

“what was that for?” he asked, a small smirk on his lips. 

“i got all dressed up and i look amazing. i don’t care what people are saying about me, or you, or us, because they’re looking at us and how great we look and that’s all that fucking matters.” you slurred ever so slightly, a determined smile on your face.

“you’re drunk as hell, gorgeous.” harry laughs softly, his hand softly caressing your cheek.

“and i love you so. damn. much.”

you spent the rest of the ball in his arms, in the center of the dance floor, much to harry’s happiness. he loved showing off his partner, but he cared about your feelings more than anything, so he never wanted to do anything that would shine the spotlight on you too much, as he knew that most of the time, the words of others really did impact you.

a few hours later, he held your hair back as you knelt over a toilet, the alcohol you boldly downed earlier making its way back up.

“is it really worth it to get this drunk, love?” he smiled softly at you, planting a kiss on your head as he rubbed your back.

“for once?” you started, “it was. and if i’m going to be drunk… i might as well be drunk in love.”