#what was that line they said? 'i can collapse on my own later'

[sashthesloth]

Finished veilguard, I finally will go on the tag as a treat because those last 4 hours put me through so much....

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Everybody’s on the Call Line (Jason todd x gn!reader)

Humor, fluff, established relationship. whole batfam gets involved. Reader is a hacker

This happened because I read the latest coffee shop au from @jjenthusee (and you should too!) and I remembered that I can also write cute fluff. So here this fic is, straight from my drafts where it’s been languishing for months. Anyway.

Swearing, as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is

———

Jason eases himself carefully onto the fire escape, metal creaking beneath his boots. He stifles a groan. He’s taking a risk sneaking into your apartment like this, he knows he is. If you wake up and see Red Hood snooping around outside your window, you’ll probably call the cops. But he’s tired as all hell, patrol was long and stupid, and your apartment was closer. Jason will just slide in while you’re sleeping, stow his gear where you won’t find it, and collapse into your bed. In the morning, he’ll just say he let himself in with the spare key you gave him. Easy. All he has to do is disable the window alarm he’d gotten for you, and then he’s home free.

The alarm trips, and Jason moves to silence it but then realized it doesn’t matter, you’re still up, working at your computer.

He freezes as you glance over your shoulder, then turn around to face him. He still has his gear on. Shit.

“Uh, hi,” you offer, looking at him with a curious glance as he races to figure out an excuse. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

This throws him for a loop. You’re reacting very well to a vigilante crawling through your window at 2:30 in the fucking morning. But you’ve given him an opening, and he’s going to take it.

“No,” he says shortly, wincing behind the helmet. He’s never spoken to you like this and instantly hates the tone he’s using, but he’s got a persona to keep up. Or something.

You nod, seemingly unfazed. “No worries. Do you work with Red Robin?”

What? Why are you asking about Tim? Do you have some secret Red Robin crush that he’s going to have to push Tim off a building for?

Dumbfounded, Jason answers, “Uh, sometimes?”

You nod again. “Do you think you could give something to him for me?”

What the shit is happening right now?

As if to help tip Jason’s world off its axis, you’re interrupted by a tap at the window. Jason looks to see Red Robin crouched on your fire escape. You wave him inside.

“Hey, Escher,” Tim says. “Hood.” Jason has no idea what the fuck is going on.

“I’ve got the script,” you say, holding out a flash drive to him, but Tim shakes his head. “No good. They updated the security.”

“Well, shit.” You turn and dump the USB stick into a glass of water on your desk. “It’s a paperweight now. Only took me five hours to figure out.”

“I know,” Tim says, clearly frustrated. “They keep outmaneuvering us.”

Wait, wait. Jason’s still three steps behind you. “Escher?” he demands.

Both you and Tim turn to look at him, frowning. “Like, M.C. Escher? But, spelled ‘emcee,’” you say, as if that explains anything. “It’s my screen name.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we work together.” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”

Jason shakes his head, and Tim looks at you for a flash of a moment before turning back to Jason. “Sorry,” he mouths, shrugging. Jason waves him off. He’ll deal with that later.

Tim turns back to your computer screen, but your eyes stay on Jason, narrowing. “What does it matter if we work together? Do I know you from somewhere?”

Shit. You were always too sharp for your own good. Jason’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. “Uhh…”

You fold your arms over your chest. Behind you, out of your field of vision, Tim grins at Jason, delighted. Asshole.

“We don’t normally work with civilians,” Jason says, fishing for an excuse.

You sniff, rolling your eyes. “And yet, here you are. Which, the way, you haven’t explained. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

Fair. What is he doing in your bedroom? Would it freak you out if he said he was a burglar? Too late for that now.

“I told him to meet me here,” Tim says, pulling Jason’s ass out of the fire. “Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”

You shrug. “S’okay,” you say, spinning back around in your desk chair to face the screen.

Over your shoulder, Tim mouths, “you owe me.” Jason gives him the finger.

“Do you have a safe copy of the new security system?” you ask, looking at Tim intently.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, Oracle is working on duplicating it.”

You slump down in your chair. “Drat. I hate waiting.”

“Yeah,” Tim sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest. “She said it’d be ready in a few hours.”

“Balls.” You fidget with a pen on your desk.

“Hold on. How did you start working with Red over here?” Jason asks. He knows you work in tech, that you’re a programmer, but he didn’t realize you were building code for fucking Batman.

Tim laughs. “I found them solving random problems on a Swedish forum.”

Jason blinks. Okay.

“Well, yeah. You found me there. Oracle found me hacking your comm links,” you grin, pleased with yourself.

Holy shit. “You got into the comm links?”

“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied. “I’ve done it twice now,” you add smugly.

“Don’t tell B,” Tim warns. “He doesn’t know. Oracle said she wouldn’t tell.”

Wow. You must be the real deal. He wonders if he can get you to fuck with Bruce’s plans, just to be a shit. "How long have you been working for the Caped Crusader, then?"

"I don't work for Batman," you say primly, as Tim sighs. "I help him out when you guys can't get your shit together."

Jason snickers under his breath. "Sore subject, huh?"

"They don’t like B," Tim confirms from the floor. "If you did it would make everything easier," he grumbles.

"It's stupid," you insist. "Come on, how is this a viable solution to any long-term problem?"

Jason laughs outright as Tim sputters. "He's a detective! He detects!"

"Then why does he have to dress up like that?" you point out. “You can be a detective in normal clothes, you know.”

"He needs armor, he keeps getting shot at!"

"Explain the cape, then," you shoot back. "Justify that monstrosity."

"It's fucking idiotic," Jason adds, piling on gleefully. "It'd be different if he could fly, but he just hops around."

Tim gasps, affronted, while you crack up in your chair. "Thank you. I mean, look at yourself, Red. You're sitting on my bedroom floor in a goddamn cape."

"It looks cool," Tim says defensively.

"No," you counter, "that looks cool." You point your finger in Jason's direction, and he feels his face heat up.

"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs. "You think his costume is cool?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, eyes taking Jason in as you nod. "Very cool. Very hot."

"Oh my god," Tim mutters. "It's tactically stupid. Why are his forearms exposed?"

"So I can see how muscley they are." You stare at them, eyes wide. Jason coughs awkwardly, and your eyes flit back up. "Sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I like leather."

"Of course you like his costume," Tim mutters under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you shoot at him, and Tim flusters. "Why do you care if I don't like your costume?"

"Yeah," Jason adds, letting some menace fall into his voice. "Why do you care if they don’t like your costume?"

"I didn't—I wasn't trying to—"

"I have a boyfriend," you interrupt, looking at Tim scornfully.

"They have a boyfriend," Jason parrots, grinning behind the helmet.

"Oh my god. I know you have a boyfriend. Relax," Tim pacifies you. "Relax," he adds, nodding at Jason. Jason grunts.

Before you can argue further, there’s another tap at your window, and Cass slips softly into the room. You light up. “Hello, my love!” you greet her excitedly. Cass raps you on the top of your head, and you beam up at her. Your hands twitch toward her before you stop yourself, folding them in your lap. Cass turns to Jason, placing her hand carefully on his arm. He bumps against her, waiting until she pushes back lightly. She then moves onto Tim, tugging gently on a lock of his hair, before depositing a flash drive on the desk. You snatch it up eagerly.

From Oracle, Cass signs.

“It’s O’s duplicate!” Tim plucks it from your fingers, driving it into your desktop.

“Be nice to her,” you warn, running a hand over your computer as the file loads. Strings of code write themselves across your screen. Jason moves forward to get a better look at you. He can’t help it, he wants to see you in action. Your face is scrunched up, tongue between your teeth as your eyes flash back and forth, following the cursor. “It’s incomplete.” You squint at Tim. “What gives?”

Tim tsks. “I don’t know. Let me get Oracle.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Oracle, come in.”

Barbara’s voice answers in Jason’s ear. “Here. I know, I know, it’s not all there,” she says, annoyed. “Let Escher know that I had to reverse engineer it from what we found.”

“She says she has to reverse engineer it,” Tim repeats.

You drum your fingers on the desk. “Okay, what else does she know?”

“What else do you—”

“Hold on, this is stupid,” you interrupt. “Can you, like, put her on speaker? Actually,” you click over to another screen, enter a command. “You’re broadcasting live, O.” Jason hears Barbara’s sigh through the speakers of your computer. “That’s three times,” you add smugly.

Jason let’s out a low whistle. Damn. You’re really good at this.

“We've got to stop meeting like this, Escher.” Barbara almost sounds amused. “How did you get in this time?”

“Hiya, babe.” You click back to your project. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. I don’t want you closing your back door.”

Barbara chuckles. “Red and I will shut you out.”

“But for how long? I’m too slippery, baby.” Jason almost blushes underneath his helmet. It always trips him up when you talk like this.

“I had to reverse engineer the code from what it spit out when I tried to get in this time,” Barbara explains. “Can you fill in the gaps?”

“Some of them.” You type quickly, deleting code as you get error messages and retyping just as fast.

“Wait, here…” Tim points to something on the screen.

“Yeah, okay,” you back up to where he’s pointing and add something.

“There’s something about the updated security,” Barbara adds. “I think there’s a pattern somewhere.”

“Where?” you demand.

“I don’t know. Gut feeling. But I think I’m right.”

“Do you think there’s something generating new code?” Tim asks. “Like, a program that’s spitting out new security?”

“Oh.” Your fingers still on the keys, face relaxing. “Yeah. Good call, Red.” You scan the code again, scrolling back to the top. “Okay. This changes things.” You start from the beginning, erasing whole sections of Barbara’s work and typing out new code. “Well, shit,” you laugh under your breath. “This is some sexy-ass code we’re looking at.”

“You can fill in the blanks?” Jason asks.

You glance up at him. “Of course I can. I wrote it.”

“What?” Tim shouts. “This is you?”

“It’s me,” you confirm. “Guilty.” A small smile plays around your lips. “Sorry.” Cass steps forward, pinching your ear until you yelp.

“Fuck, Escher.” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were a traitor.”

“Chill, bird brain,” you say defensively, leaning out of Cass’ reach. “This was from, like, five years ago. I needed some cash.”

“You could be on B’s payroll,” Tim offers.

You snort as Barbara huffs a laugh over the comm line. “Fat chance, I’ve been trying to convince them for months.”

“I’m not a fucking lapdog. I play by my own rules,” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jason can’t help but push you. “And what rules are those?”

You cock an eye at him warily. “The rule of not tying my kite to some lunatic.”

Jason nods. Can’t argue with that one.

“Anyway,” you turn back to the computer. “Because I wrote it, I can build you the malware.”

“To get past the security or to neutralize the program spitting out new code?” Barbara asks over the line.

“Dealer’s choice,” you say, then stick your tongue between your teeth as you squint at the screen. “I can make both happen.”

The comm crackles in Jason’s ear. “Oracle, come in,” Bruce barks.

Tim whips his head toward you with a crack. “Nothing from you now, Escher,” Barbara warns. “I’m patching him through.”

You grin, eagerly pretending to zip your lips.

“Here,” Barbara answers.

“I heard from one of my informants,” Bruce’s monotone growl fills the room. Jason catches you roll your eyes and almost bursts out laughing. “They’re going to get into the controls for Blackgate prison.”

“This is Black Mask?” Barbara clarifies.

Bruce grunts as your eyebrows shoot up. “This is Black Mask?” you whisper, except you’ve never been very good at whispering. Tim slices a hand over his neck to silence you as Jason moves to your computer. He’s been eyeing the program you’re using to broadcast the comm connection, and he thinks he’s found the mute button. He taps a key and then turns his head toward you. “Off?”

You nod. “Off. Thanks. This is Black Mask’s security?”

“Yeah, he’s making a move against the jail. He’s going to get some of his guys out,” Tim explains.

“Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You tap your fingers against your chin.

“What?” Tim folds his arms over his chest.

“I originally sold it to the Falcones.” You flick your hair out of your face. “Guess they sold me out behind my back.”

A security program that’s making its way through the mob? That’s…really useful, actually.

“Can you get in and stop them?” Bruce asks.

“Maybe,” Oracle hedges. “Hold on, I have to call in reinforcements.” She mutes Bruce’s line. “Escher, you’re up.”

“Wait, you want it now?” you say, aghast. “Christ, how long do I have?”

“Act quickly.” Bruce orders. “My intel says they’re moving at 3:45am.”

Your eyes fly to the clock on your monitor. “What the fuck!” you screech. “That’s in forty minutes! I can’t do it in forty minutes! I have to break through my own walls!”

“Escher,” Barbara starts, just as Tim says “listen, you have to—”

“I can’t, it’s not enough time!” you wail.

“Hey, hey,” Jason cuts in. “Easy. Don’t worry, love. You can do it.”

You look at him fearfully. “You haven’t even told me what to do!”

“Just get past the security,” Jason says patiently. “Don’t worry about shutting down the whole program.”

You nod at him, eyes wide.

“Deep breaths, now,” he instructs. “Come on, in for two, hold, out for four. We’ll do it together. Ready?”

You nod again.

“Okay.” Jason sucks in a breath, loudly so it’ll register over the modulator. You copy him, inhaling, holding, and exhaling on his rhythm. After a few breaths you shake your head, turning back to the computer.

“Alright. I can make it happen.” You resume typing, eyes narrowed as you focus.

“We’re alright, B, I’ve got someone on it,” Oracle says, satisfied.

Tim turns to Jason, clearly impressed. Jason shrugs. You’ve been together for a while now, he knows how to pull you out of a spiral.

He turns back to you. You’re ripping through code at a hundred miles an hour, hunched over the keyboard. Jason grimaces, he’s always trying to get you to sit up straight to help your tech neck. He’ll have to rub out the knots in your shoulders later.

Jason feels Cass’ eyes on him, and he tilts his head toward her. Less than forty minutes, she signs to him. I’ll have to take it back to the Clocktower.

Jason’s thought of that. He evenly points his chin in your direction. You can handle it, he knows you can. Cass nods.

Tim coughs quietly, and Jason raises his head to look at him. “You want the keys to the castle?” he mutters.

He means code you built that generates new security programs. Jason nods. “But that’s just between us, yeah?” It would be loads easier for Jason if he keeps the code out of Bruce’s hands. Black Mask has been operating in Jason’s territory, and Jason has a long string of investigations against him, well-beyond the scope of this Blackgate shit. Bruce needs to keep his nose out of it.

Tim scoffs. “Fine. Seems like you should get first dibs anyway.” He nods towards your desk where you’re still working stubbornly.

The room is silent, all three of them letting you work. After a few minutes, Tim steps toward you. “Here, you need any hel—”

Jason throws an arm out to stop him, just as Cass grabs his wrist and tugs him backwards, shaking her head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes later, you rap your knuckles on your desk. “Oi, peanut gallery!” You spin around in your chair, smiling wickedly. “I solved your case for you!”

“It’s not a case,” Tim mutters, and Jason scoffs.

“Don’t be jealous, RR,” Babs says over the line. “You can both be the prettiest.” Tim splutters as you laugh delightedly.

“Nice job,” Jason says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You grin up at him. He catches Cass and Tim share a look, sees her sign something too fast for his eyes to follow.

“Batgirl’s bringing it to you now, Oracle,” Tim says as you unplug the flash drive and hand it to Cass. You wave to her as she slips through the window.

“My backup came through,” Babs reports to Bruce. “They’ll be obsolete in a few minutes.”

“Copy.” The line fizzles as Babs cuts him off.

“Fuck yeah,” you grin in satisfaction. “Nothing like hearing that overgrown Bat say ‘copy.’”

Jason cackles as Tim rolls his eyes. “Oracle,” he says loudly. “Hood was in the dark about our friend here.” His eyes flick to you before he looks at Jason meaningfully.

And just what the fuck does he think he’s doing? Jason all but snarls at him.

“Huh. I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that, Hood,” Barbara admonishes.

“Shut up, O,” he grumbles. Jason glances at you to make sure you haven’t caught on to what they’re talking about, but you don’t seem to be paying attention; you’ve pulled up Steam and are scrolling through your game library.

“Maybe it’s time to clue them in. Take off your party hat,” Barbara says meaningfully. Tim nods forcefully.

“Butt out,” Jason says half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stick. He’s been thinking about telling you about Red Hood anyway; you’ve been together for a year and a half. He’s been…well, he’s scared. But maybe he shouldn’t be.

“We’d have to vote on it,” he says gruffly. Tim pumps his fist in the air. “In person,” he says meaningfully. Comm links aren’t safe, apparently.

“You have my vote,” Babs says confidently. “And Batgirl’s, too, she’s here.” Barbara pauses meaningfully. “I’m happy for you, Hood.”

“Me too!” Tim pipes up immediately.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waves them off, like his heart isn’t pounding. “Can you call everyone over?”

“Roger that.” Barbara seems pleased. “Hood is asking us all to meet near him,” she broadcasts aloud. “Sending you coordinates.”

Dick, Steph, Bruce, and Damian all copy. Jason steels himself. “Alright, RR, time to go.”

You glance at him as he moves toward the window. “Heading out?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers. “Got a big family meeting to get to.” He grins at Jason.

“Okay. See you around. Nice meeting you,” you say to Jason, before turning back to your screen.

“Uh, yeah,” he says uncomfortably, while Tim snickers. “See you later.”

The troops have already assembled two rooftops over. “Hood, what’s the situation?” Bruce asks sternly.

“The situation,” Tim starts happily, “is—”

“Hold on,” Jason cuts him off. “Disconnect comm links.” He watches warily as everyone takes them out of their ears.

“Compromised?” Dick asks with concern.

“Uh, yeah.” Jason scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, uh…” he looks at Tim helplessly.

“Jason’s dating Escher.”

“What!” Dick screams as Steph claps her hands together excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating anyone?”

“Uh—”

“Fuck, yeah!” Steph interrupts. “This is great! Escher’s the freaking best!”

“Language,” Bruce says as Jason takes off the helmet to glare at Steph accusingly.

“We play Minecraft together,” she explains. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”

“Wait, hold on. I thought you all knew about that.” Jason shifts his glare to Tim.

Tim shrugs. “Only me and Babs knew,” he says.

“Timmy, why didn’t you share!” Dick groans, bounding over to ruffle Jason’s hair.

Jason pushes him away, trying to swipe his feet out from under him. Dick dodges easily, throwing a light right hook in return. “Wasn’t any of your business, now was it?” Jason says gruffly.

Tim looks at Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Fair.” Dick grins softly at Jason, bumping shoulders with him. “Nice job, Little Wing.”

Jason blushes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Congrats, Todd, but why are we all here?” Damian interrupts.

“I’m gonna tell ‘em,” Jason says simply. “About this. If it’s cool.”

“Fine with me,” Steph says instantly.

Tim nods, “seconded. Babs and Cass say it’s fine with them, we asked before we went dark.”

“Well, who am I to stand in their way,” Dick half-jokes, but he’s looking at Bruce with serious eyes. So is Jason.

“I’ll follow Father’s ruling,” Damian says stoutly.

That leaves the big man himself. Bruce smiles gently. “Of course, Jaylad. We’re all happy for you.”

Jason blushes all over again. “Thanks, old man.” He lets out a breath.

“But we have to ask Duke,” Bruce adds meaningfully.

“I texted him, he says it’s fine,” Tim says quickly. “But also, uh—” he holds his hand to his ear.

Warily, Jason puts his comm back in. “Jason, what the fuck!” you shriek. “What the fucking fuck is this!”

“I forgot to disconnect,” Babs says sheepishly.

“Jason, you ass! Why didn’t you tell me you ran around in a fucking costume?” you shout down the line. Steph and Dick keel over laughing. Jason realizes everyone has taken the liberty of putting their comm back in.

“Baby, please,” he says resignedly.

“Baby?” Dick mouths, beaming.

“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me!” you holler.

“Babe, you are a hacker,” he points out. “How come you didn’t share that with the class?”

That makes you pause. “Fair fucking point, I guess,” you mutter. Jason sees Bruce try to tug the comm out of Damian’s ear, but Damian dances out of reach.

“Uh, also, can you cool it with the swearing?” Jason asks. “There’s a kid here.”

“…if it’s Robin I am going to throw up.”

“Hello,” Damian says helpfully.

Your end of the line is silent.

“Hey, Escher, it’s Spoiler!” Steph cuts in. “Nice job shacking up with Hood.” She eyes Jason evilly.

“This is a fucking ambush,” you grind out. “Jason, you fucking ambushed me.”

“Language,” Bruce orders gently. Tim just about busts a gut while Jason waves frantically at Bruce, shaking his head rapidly. “Nice to meet you over the phone,” Bruce adds. Dick gives him a thumbs up.

“…likewise,” you say eventually. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but this has been insane, and I’m disconnecting. Jason, get your as— get back here after you’ve finished your family dinner.” Your end goes dead.

“They seem nice,” Bruce says after a moment. “We’ll have to talk about how they got into the comm links,” he looks at Tim reproachfully.

“See you later, Hood,” Dick says easily, nodding at your building.

Jason turns back to your apartment. He can already see you in the window, arms crossed over your chest. You’re trying to scowl at him, but he can see the smile trying to escape.

He shrugs his shoulders, grinning. You throw up your hands but beckon him anyway. Come on, come back.

Don’t worry, Jason’s coming.

[sevcasejay1chicago]

hiii I hope you are doing ok

Could I please request a Jay Halstead x GF Reader

Reader is Diabetic and her monitor gets broken on a call out a couple of hours later when back at the station reader collapses and becomes unresponsive she is rushed to med where they find out she has gone into DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) and has a seizure Jay is worried and is panicking ect.

Happy ending please

Thank you in advance if you decide to write this request 😘

DKA-Jay Halstead

Authors note: I found this deep within my inbox. I’m so sorry it took me forever to do this. I hope you enjoy it anyways. Also, not really completely proof read, but I hated waiting any longer. 😂

Warnings: vomiting, language, possible inaccurate medical information

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

What should have been a run of the mill bust and paperwork day ended at Med. You’re barely conscious as Jay leans over your head, yelling for Nat to do something as you seize, barely getting a breath in. Everything flutters in and out of focus as your mind replays the day.

🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔🚔

You sat in Jay’s passenger side, restlessly waiting for Voight to give you the go ahead. You and Jay have been on this stake out for over 24 hours and your ready to do the bust so that you could go file your paper work and go home with Jay. It was also time to change your monitor this evening and you wanted nothing more than to shower without the old device before replacing it with a new one.

“I can hear you thinking.” Jay mumbled, head laid back as he rested his eyes.

You jumped, thinking your partner was asleep. Last time you checked, his breathing was even and his jaw was slack. “Thought you were sleeping.” You muttered, rubbing your eye where the binoculars you were looking through hit it when you jumped.

Jay sighed, sitting up in his seat and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Well, the sun is up and your thinking too loud, so I figured it was time to wake up and check in.” Jay said, smirking as he reached across the console to kiss the side of your head. “Sooooo?” Jay drug out, wiggling his eyebrows to make you crack a smile.

“Just ready to go home.” You said, looking in his eyes briefly before sweeping the area. There were only a few cars in the area at this time of morning, but this was the time they liked to move product.

“I know baby. Soon enough.” Jay said, reaching for your luke warm coffee and taking a sip before placing it back in the cup holder. “Let me take a turn. Maybe close your eyes or check in with the team.” Jay said, opening his now empty hand for the binoculars.

You sighed, not wanting to argue with him. You handed the binoculars over to Jay before pulling out your phone and shooting a text to Kim to check in. While you waited for her reply, you leaned your head against Jay’s shoulder and snuggled close, letting your eyes slip shut.

Jay leaned his back into the center console to provide you access to his shoulder, knowing you sleep best when you can feel him. His eyes stay trained on the surrounding area, checking closer with the binoculars every now and then. He keeps his movements to a minimum to not disturb you seeing as you’ve been up most of the night. You never rest well on stake outs, but Jay’s former Army background has proven useful for sleeping pretty much anywhere.

Half an hour later, you wake to Jay speaking on the phone in a hushed voice. “Sarge. Get everyone down here. We’ve got a small box truck and three more vehicles pulling into the warehouse.” Jay said, leaning back to look at you as he felt you remove your head from his shoulder.

You took the binoculars, narrowing in on the open garage door. You could see a table lined with wooden crates. All of them appeared to be unmarked, but big enough to contain guns. “I see boxes that probably contain weapons, but they are unmarked and I can’t see inside from this angle.” You spoke into your own phone.

“We will be there in 5.” Voight said, causing you and Jay to jump into action. “50-21 requesting backup to 1415 Kincaid. Multiple players. Assumed to be armed and dangerous.” You and Jay heard called out on the city wide radio.

Jay grabbed your bullet proof vest and handed it to you before grabbing his own. He threw his seat back to avoid hitting the wheel by accident as you scrambled to grab Jay’s rifle from the back and place it on the floor board next to your feet. By the time both of you have your gear on, ears in, and weapons checked, the team has pulled up. Voight’s tires screech as he parks his SUV to block the entrance with Kevin’s car blocking the rest of the way. Jay pulls his truck behind Kevin’s before you are both jumping out and running into the building after your team, patrol flanking as they arrive.

“Watch your backs. We got guns.” Kevin says, peeking into the boxes as you all run by.

“Chicago PD! Come out with your hands up! We’ve got you surrounded.” Voight yells, eyes scanning the warehouse. Tall boxes block the view, but you can hear scrambling as the men pick up guns and begin to take off on foot.

“Stop! Police!” You yell, running as fast as your legs can carry you. You stop every now and then to shield your body with varied crates as you all begin to exchange gunfire, but you don’t let it stop you from reaching an open area blocked off with more boxes for cover. You take off, yelling to Kim and Adam “We are coming to you guys at the back.” As you continue your pursuit of two men running along the other side of the boxes. Once you reach the end, you are able to tackle one to the ground as you hear Kim announce herself, stopping the other man in his tracks.

Silence, other than the clicking of handcuffs, is now the only thing you hear. Jay runs up, pulling you up off the ground as Adam puts the cuffs on the man. “You good?” Jay asks, holding you by the shoulder so that you don’t fall over as you bend at the waist, propping yourself up with your hands on your knees, attempting to catch your breath. You nod, giving a shaky thumbs up as adrenaline pumps through your body. Jay leads you to a crate and sits you down. “Catch your breath and then we can start processing the evidence.” Jay says, kissing you on the forehead before walking away.

~TIME SKIP~

Once you finished doing what you all could, Jay leads you to the truck and helps you climb in, stripping your vest off of you as you basically collapse into the passenger seat. You’d been dragging the past hour, which was now starting to become noticeable by everyone. When you started recounting the items in your possession for the third time, Voight sent you and Jay back to the precinct to change and go home, having everyone wrap up as well.

“Hey baby. Let me see those y/c/e.” Jay spoke softly, tenderly holding your head in his hands. When you groggily peered at your lover, you let a dopey smile spread across your face. “There’s my girl.” Jay whispered, kissing your forehead. “Drink your water and I’ll get us back to the precinct.” Jay said, helping you to put your legs into the truck and buckle you up before handing you your water. Once he had you situated, he closed your door and rounded the truck to get into his side.

You winced as the truck started moving, lightly hissing in pain. Jay didn’t seem to hear it since he didn’t start grilling you about potential injuries, which you were thankful for. You didn’t want or need to be interrogated for a tummy ache. Instead of saying anything, you drank your water, gulping yours down and Jay’s down within minutes when you suddenly realized how thirsty you were. Jay didn’t comment, thinking you were dehydrated from the stake out.

Once back at the district, Jay helped you up the steps and into the locker room. All the movement made your stomach churn. You tried to ignore it, but suddenly all the water you drank was pushing to the surface. You launched yourself out of Jay’s arms and over the trash can before he could even process what was happening. You had a white knuckle grip on the rim of the trash can as you hiccup and heave, letting out a stream of water.

“Woah! Okay. Okay baby. I gotcha.” Jay says, rushing to grab your pony tail and tuck it into your shirt before he is wrapping an arm around your chest and rubbing your back with the other hand. “I gotcha. Just let it out. It’s alright honey. It’s alright.” Jay soothes, not really sure if it’s mostly for you or some for himself.

You cough and heave a few times, shakily latching onto Jay’s arm around your chest with one hand while clutching your stomach with the other. You moan as your vision blurs and you feel your knees begin to buckle. “J-humph.” You try to call his name, fear taking over your voice.

“Sh Sh Sh. I know. I know. Hang on.” Jay says, getting a better grip on you from behind before turning to yell out the door. “I need some help in here!” Jay hollers, having a gut feeling that something is really wrong.

Footsteps can be heard running up the stairs in multiple directions before Trudy comes running in from the stairs near the Sargent desk and Kim comes through the door you both just came through, Voight and Adam not far behind.

“What the hell happened?” Both Trudy and Hank yell at the same time, coming up to the pair of you.

“I don’t know. I gotta get her down. She’s fading Sarge.” Jay says, leaning over you to grip you better in his arms.

“Kim, guide him back with her to straddle the bench. Adam, go call a bus. Tell them we have an officer down. Trudy, help me move this trash can with them. She’s still going.” Voight instructs, immediately taking charge.

Once Kim has her hands on Jay’s sides, he allows her to guide him back, you being practically dragged along. Platt and Voight follow close to you, making sure you stay over the large trash can. They tilt it some once Jay sits and pulls you down with him. Voight has a hold of one of the handles as Trudy goes to grab a few paper towels and wets them. Adam comes running in with a med bag.

“Ambo’s 10 out. 51 is sending Brett and Violet from a call. They are closest.” Adam relays the information, kneeling at your side. “Lemme check her vitals. They want us to watch her stats.” Adam explains, taking out the pulse ox and attaching it to your finger as your heaves start to calm.

Voight sets the trash can down and slightly to the side before taking his phone out, checking your monitor. “Jay, how long has her monitor been down?” Voight asks, seeing that it is no longer transmitting information.

“What?” Jay asks, leaning around you and lifting your shirt. When he sees the broken monitor, he mutters a curse. “DKA. Fuck. Sarge, she’s in DKA.” Jay quickly realizes, having seen you in this situation before.

Trudy has a wet paper towel on your neck and forehead as your head lulls forward. “Y/n!” Trudy yells as Jay tightens his hold on you.

“I gotta lay her down. Kim, I need your jacket.” Jay instructs, allowing Adam and Voight to help him lower you into the recovery position on the floor. “Give me the glucose machine.” Jay says, holding his hand out to Adam. Once the monitor beeped, Jay swore lowly. “It’s 487.” Jay mumbled, pulling out his phone. He pressed it to his ear as Adam monitored the pulse ox.

“Jay?” Nat asked as soon as she picked up. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/n. 61 is on the way, but I need a room cleared and prepped. She’s in DKA.” Jay explained, running a hand through his hair.

“Is she conscious?” Nat asked, moving to April and Maggie to whisper the urgent need she had.

“No. She threw up and she passed out. We’ve been on a stake out and then a bust. Her monitor probably broke during the bust, so we had no idea. She’s been struggling with her sugar the last couple of days, but now she’s at 487.” Jay quickly explained, thankful that Brett ran in has he spoke. “ Brett’s here. We should be landing in 20.” Jay said, not waiting for a reply as he locked eyes with Brett’s movements.

“Hey Y/n? Can you hear me?” Brett asks, turning you over slightly, using Jay’s lap to tilt you enough to do a sternum rub. You groan and Brett relaxes some. “She’s not coming out of this. We gotta load her up and get h-“ Brett stops as you tense up, immediately being thrown into a seizer.

“Oh fuck.” Jay gasps, rolling you completely on your side as Voight leans down to move your legs into a more stable position and lightly holds them there.

“Vi, I need the med kit in the locker rooms now!” Sylvie says into her radio. ���Everyone else that is not helping, please clear the room. We need space.” Brett instructs, leaning over to make sure your airway is clear and to check the pulse ox that is still on your finger. “Vitals are mostly fine. Elevated for obvious reasons, but not dangerous. I’m going to give her meds to stop the seizer if it continues. Let’s see if she can ride it out first.” Brett says, not wanting to pump you with anything knowing that you have weird drug reactions.

Jay nods and sits back, a hand lightly in your side to keep you there. He mutters soft reassurance in your general direction has tears quietly roll down his face. He’s never seen you this bad before.

“Oh God.” Violet says as she walks into the room. “Here.” She hands Brett a saline bag and a IV kit before she leans down to recheck your stats and airway.

After roughly 45 seconds, the seizer stops. You go completely lax under Jay and Voights’ hand. Your breathing is erratic, but the pulse ox results aren’t causing any other alarms.

“Sargent. Get Ruzek to grab the stair chair. It’s in the lobby next to the watchman’s desk.” Violet says, taking the prepped saline bag from Brett and standing, putting pressure on it to speed up the process and get you rehydrated.

——PRESENT——

Everything else is a blur. Now, as you open your eyes to various voices and bright lights, you do your best to lay still. Everything feels wrong. You immediately feel anxious and start to reach for the mask over your face.

“Hey hey hey. No baby.” Jay says, immediately taking your hand and gently lowering it back to your chest. “Hey. Look at me. I’m here sweetheart.” Jay says, brushing your hair back from your face and gently coaxing you as the heart monitor starts to pick up.

You open your eyes and look around. You are clearly in one of the icu rooms at med. You can see Nat and Will exchanging words outside your room as they glance between you and their computers.

“Baby?” Jay calls, grabbing your attention.

You slowly turn to Jay, locking eyes with him as he finally comes into view. You squint against the light, but Jay leans further over to block the assault.

“Hey you. Welcome back.” Jay whispers, tears threatening to spill.

“W-wha-“ you try to say, clearing your throat.

“Hang on.” Jay says, reaching for the water next to your bed and carefully helping you sit up and take a few cautious sips as he pulls the oxygen mask to the side. Once your done, he places the water aside and immediately replaces the oxygen mask.

“What happened?” You ask, clearing your throat from what feels like disuse or sickness.

“Well you went into DKA. You got sick in the locker rooms and we had to call 61 to transport you. You had two seizers and stopped protecting your airway so they had to intervene. You’ve been out for 48 hours. Your in the ICU at Med.” Jay explained, soothing your hair back as he speaks.

Your eyes widen, staring at Jay as you process what he just said. “H-how?” You ask, wracking your brain. You haven’t had an episode this bad in years. They don’t happen with the monitor.

“Your monitor broke during the raid. We knew your sugars had been out of wack, but since you weren’t attached to the monitor, we had no clue how high it got until you went down.” Jay explained, squeezing your hand that you slipped into his.

You slowly nodded. That made sense. Now you had just one more question. “When can I go home?” You whispered, looking at Jay with the biggest puppy dog eyes you could.

Jay chuckled. He knows you hate hospitals as much as him. “Soon enough baby. Soon enough.” Jay promises, leaning up to kiss your forehead.

TAG LIST:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

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@emilyprentisswife

[cherrynflowergarden]

જ⁀➴ this is why we can't have nice things || matt sturniolo

sturniolo masterlist taglist

the kitchen smelled of ginger and cinnamon as matt stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, carefully squeezing icing onto a gingerbread wall. she was beside him, painstakingly placing little candy decorations in a neat line.

“alright, what’s the plan here?” matt asked, glancing at the pile of candy she insisted on using. “we’re making a cute little house,” she said, voice laced with determination. “it’s a gingerbread mansion with the amount of candy you bought, darling.” he teased, smirking as he popped a gumdrop into his mouth.

before she could respond, chris barged into the kitchen, a can of pepsi in hand. “yo, what are you guys doing? trying to win a baking competition or something?”

“trying to build a house,” matt replied, emphasizing trying as the roof he’d just placed slid off.

chris laughed, leaning against the counter. “you need my expert advice?” “not unless you want icing in your hair,” matt shot back playfully, though there was a serious glint in his eyes.

nick appeared next, his curiosity piqued by the commotion. “what’s going on? oh, this is gonna collapse in like two seconds.”

“it’s not collapsing,” she protested, glaring at him as she added a little green wreath to the front door. “it’s going to be perfect.”

nick raised an eyebrow. “define perfect.”

“nick, go away,” matt muttered, though he was grinning now, caught between annoyance and amusement.

nick didn’t leave, of course. instead, he grabbed a piece of gingerbread from the “extra” pile and started munching. “i’m just saying, this isn’t very structurally sound.”

chris grabbed the icing bag from matt. “i’ll show you how it’s done.”

ten minutes later, the kitchen was a disaster zone. icing was everywhere—on the counter, on the floor, and somehow even in nick’s hair. candy was scattered like confetti, and the gingerbread house was leaning precariously to one side.

chris stood back, proudly admiring his handiwork. “i think it adds character.”

“you mean chaos,” nick muttered, wiping icing off his sleeve on chris’ shirt to which the later yelled about.

matt sighed, looking at the mess with his hands on his hips. then he turned to his girlfriend, a smirk tugging at his lips. “at least it’s better than the one they’d make on their own.”

“definitely,” she agreed, laughing as she swiped some icing onto matt’s cheek. “hey!” he grabbed a handful of flour and dusted it over her head in retaliation, making her squeal. nick and chris watched the madness unfold, both shaking their heads.

“this is why we can’t have nice things.” chris said, grinning.

an; heh the title doesn't match at all but it's okay :3 it's 24 dec for me so enjoy this little christmas gift from meeeee i have more ideas and i might just post them :)

tags; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-bell @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf @blahbel668 @my-dinos-life-is-good @ssturniolo92 @lilly6110 @lou-larcher5 @arminluvrr @mxryxmfooty @gabri3la-sturns @bellsboops @f1-and-shiz @emely9274 @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @unx100to @strnlslut

@mattslovergirlie @sarakpalsd @sweetobservationface @shadowthesim @mattslolita @cupiidk1lls @urloveanaa @t1llysblog @meatball10 @fiowerbeds

[lemoncrushh]

Touch

Summary: You've been having a hard time getting yourself off, so your roommate Harry offers a hand.

Warnings: masturbation, clit stimulation - 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 3886

A/N: Finally, it's here! Based on this request. Soooo sorry for the delay! My writing mojo was not working this week. Also, I know it's a lame title, but I couldn't come up with anything else, and it's after 2AM lol. Hope you enjoy anyway :)

Slamming the freezer door shut, you collapsed at the kitchen table with a sigh.

“What’s with you?” you heard Harry ask from the living room.

“Nothing,” you muttered. “Just thought I had some popsicles left, but I guess I ate ‘em all.”

“You’ve been devouring those like crazy,” Harry commented. “Something stressing you out?”

You sighed, groaning into your palms as you rubbed your eyes. “You could say that.”

“Anything I could help you with?”

You laughed to yourself as you laid your head on the table. Oh God, if he only knew. If he only could.

“No,” you said with a muffled moan.

“Hmm, alright then,” you heard him say as he rose from the sofa and turned off the television. “I’m going to meet Seth at the track field like I promised I would. Want me to stop and get you some popsicles on the way back?”

Lifting your head, you gave a weak smile. “That would be great. Thank you.”

“No problem. See you later.” When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at you. “Oh, and Y/N? Whatever it is…if it’s still bothering you when I get back, we can talk about it, yeah?”

“Stop, you!” you waved him off. “Go be a frat boy for the afternoon.”

Harry gave you a smirk before shutting the door behind him.

Harry Styles was sweet. Not your typical college guy. Since meeting your freshman year, you’d become close friends, and eventually roommates. While you were very much attracted to him (honestly, who wasn’t?), you’d never given him much hints that you were interested in more than his friendship. And he was such a great friend, and you’d hate to lose that by stepping out of line. So other than a couple of drunken nights on the sofa when you’d both innocently flirted, you kept your feelings to yourself.

But when you were alone…well, that was a different issue altogether.

Harry was your fantasy man, if you wanted to put it that way. He knew you were a virgin; you’d discussed it many times. But what he didn’t know was that when you were alone in your room, sometimes with him in his own room and sometimes not, you fantasized about him. And many of those fantasies led to you touching yourself and getting worked up, only to end with you sexually frustrated.

The biggest issue was that you couldn’t make yourself come. You weren’t sure what you were doing wrong. You were horny as hell all the time. And thinking about Harry when you touched yourself only heightened the desire. But you just couldn’t seem to get over the edge. You could feel yourself getting so close, time after time, until your wrist got tired and your pussy seemed to dry up. You’d groan, angry at yourself, sometimes to the point of tears. If it was late enough, you’d manage to fall asleep eventually, but if it wasn’t even close to bed time, you’d huff and stomp out of your bedroom to grab a popsicle out of the freezer, your item of choice for cooling you down.

Today had been just like any other Saturday. You’d awakened horny, thinking of Harry. You tried to take a shower, hoping it would help, only to be interrupted by the man himself, knocking on the bathroom door to tell you breakfast was ready. You’d sat at the table with him as you tried not to stare, thinking about how fucking sweet he was to make breakfast. Then when he’d announced he was going to watch some game on TV before meeting his friend Seth, you’d gone to your room, hoping to relieve the pulsing ache between your legs. You’d even gone so far as to sit naked in the closet, the door shut as you touched yourself. But once again, you were unable to climax, thus the need to go running into the kitchen.

Now that Harry was gone, however, you knew you couldn’t waste an opportunity. Grabbing a bottle of water, you brought it with you to your room in case the activity made you dehydrated. Then you lit your favorite candle and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the glow of the fairy lights that trimmed your walls. After removing your shorts, you slipped underneath the covers in just your panties and t-shirt. Closing your eyes, you sighed, imagining Harry was in bed with you. Sliding your hands down the front of your shirt, you let your fingers linger at the edge of your cotton underwear.

“Please,” you whispered into the air.

You pretended your hand was your roommate’s as you let it glide over your clothed mound. You sighed again, willing him in your mind to add a little pressure as your own hand resumed the task. Soon you could feel the moisture soaking through your panties, so you removed them completely. With your head back on the pillow, you gathered a bit of your wetness, bringing it to your clit as your fingertip began to play more aggressively.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure building in your belly, your toes curling as you imagined it was Harry touching you, making you feel incredible. Your cunt tightened as your finger moved around in circles on your now swollen clit. You gasped a breath and licked your lips, praying the release would come soon. But just like all the other times, nothing would happen. It was as though your body was deliberately denying the pleasure you so needed, like a punishment. For what, you were unsure.

Dropping your tired hand next to you, you immediately felt the tears coming, unable to stop the frustration and disappointment. Rolling over onto your side, you pulled the covers up to your chest and cried.

Why was this not happening for you? This was so unfair!

Shaking with sobs, you gave up, resolving that it just wasn’t meant to be. Gulping back the rest of your tears, you drifted off to sleep.

You awakened disoriented as you heard the front door slam shut. Harry must be home, you thought. Suddenly, just the thought of him brought the tears back to your eyes. Shortly afterwards, you heard Harry calling your name. Ashamed, you rolled over to face the wall.

“Y/N!” you heard again just before a knock sounded on your bedroom door.

When you didn’t answer, he turned the knob, opening the door just a crack. “Y/N? You in here? I got those popsicles. They’re in the free-”

Harry’s words stopped abruptly, and you knew he had entered the room.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Not wanting to let him see you crying, you cleared your throat. “Oh, hey Harry. I was…tired. So I decided to take a nap.”

“Um…but…you’re crying, love.”

“No, I’m not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, you are. I see your shoulders trembling.”

“Jeez, nothing gets past you, does it?” you hiccuped. “Do you want a medal or something?”

“Hey…” Harry sounded. Then you felt the bed shift, and you could tell he’d sat down behind you. When his hand touched your shoulder, you tensed up. “Y/N. I told you you could talk to me. About anything. Please, I’m here to help.”

“I can’t, Harry,” you grumbled. “Not about this.”

“Why not?”

“Because…it’s too embarrassing.” Sniffling, you silently hoped he would leave. But he was your friend. And up until then you’d talked to him about all of your problems, big or small.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” he urged. “Was it some jerk you fancied? Want me to beat him up for you?”

“No,” you shook your head.

“Was it one of the girls in that snooty sorority?”

“No, Harry. Nobody did anything. Please, just go. Let me be.”

You heard him sigh as he rose from the bed. You thought he was leaving until he spoke again. “No, Y/N. I can’t. You’re clearly upset about something, and I can’t just leave you crying like this. Let me help. Please.”

With a huff, you finally rolled over to face him. His face displayed the look of concern and worry, and you suddenly felt bad for snapping at him.

“Why is it so important to you?” you asked with a shaky breath.

“Because, Y/N…” he conveyed, returning to the edge of your bed. “You’re important to me. You’re my best friend. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

Biting your bottom lip, you shifted your eyes. Could you tell him? Should you tell him?

“If I tell you…will you promise you won’t laugh?”

Harry tilted his head and ran his hand down your arm. “Y/N, how could I laugh at you?”

“It’s just…it’s very TMI,” you admitted.

“Yeah?” Harry raised a brow.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you sat up. “I…” you began with a pause. Finally, exhaling through your nose, you looked up at the ceiling as you said the next words. “I’ve been extremely horny lately.”

You heard Harry snicker before you lowered your head and frowned.

“No,” he shook his head. “Trust me love, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just…that’s not really a secret, is it? I mean…we’re all pretty horny. I wouldn’t really call that TMI.”

“That’s not all of it,” you whispered.

“Oh. Okay. Go on then.” Harry scooted closer to you. Your insides flipped, even more than when you would sit with him on the couch or the kitchen table. You stared at him for a moment before shifting your gaze down to the comforter. You grabbed it in your hands, twisting the edge between your fingers.

“I can’t seem to make myself…you know.”

Harry’s eyes widened instantly at your confession. It surprised you because you figured you would have to spell it out for him. Part of you was embarrassed, but the other part was relieved that he understood what you meant.

“Have you ever?” he inquired.

Sucking in your lips, you shook your head.

“Shit,” he whispered, his eyes on you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“One time…it felt a little different, you know? Like I thought maybe I was but then…I wasn’t so sure. But all other times I’d get so close,” you whined, “but then…it goes away.”

“Well…” Harry mused, shifting himself on the bed, “maybe you just need some help.”

Blinking hard, you glared at him. “What do you mean? I…don’t have a vibrator. I was thinking of getting one, but I don’t know…”

“No, I mean…like a person. To touch you. The way you need to be touched.”

His final phrase hung in the air as you stared at his handsome face. His voice and tone had been low, just above a whisper, and it tickled your ears and made your skin blush. He licked his full lips as his eyes drifted down from your face to your lap. The sudden urge to squeeze your legs together was hard to ignore.

“Well…yeah,” you scoffed, making light of his words. “Not like I’ve had the opportunity.”

Harry’s eyes lifted back up to meet yours before he said, “You do now.”

Your mouth opened slightly, though you were unable to utter a sound. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting?

It wasn’t until Harry took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across your fingers and looked sincerely into your eyes again that you managed to squeak out his name.

“H-arry…you…”

“I’d like to help you, Y/N,” he said softly. “I want to. If you’ll let me.”

“Really?” You asked the word incredulously, almost with a light chuckle as surely he was joking.

“Yes. Really.”

Biting your lip, you hesitantly lowered your comforter. Harry eyed your bare legs before looking back at you.

“May I?” he asked, reaching his hand toward your thigh.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. With a slight smirk, Harry caressed your leg, gliding his hand up and down your thigh. You sighed, your flesh erupting in goosebumps.

“Your skin is so soft,” he cooed. Then licking his lips, he leaned forward, his mouth so close to yours that you could feel his breath. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

With another nod, you felt the nerves magnify just before his lips met yours. When his hand met your cheek, however, you eased into the kiss, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. Though you had imagined his kiss many times, it was nothing like actually experiencing the real thing. You felt the bubble of a moan rise from your throat before Harry released your lips and chuckled low.

“I was afraid that would be awkward for you, but I’m gonna assume by that sound you just made that it wasn’t.”

“No,” you breathed. “It was pretty great, actually.”

Harry’s smile grew which only made you smile back. This was already going better than you thought it would.

“So, you’re okay with moving forward?” he asked. “With me touching you, I mean.”

“Yes.” You said it so quietly, you would have wondered if you’d only thought it in your head if Harry hadn’t adjusted his position on the bed. Leaning on his elbow, he rested his head in his hand as he reached his other hand to touch your thigh again.

“We can go as slow as you need to, okay?”

“‘kay.”

“Lie back, love,” he instructed. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible. The more comfortable and relaxed you are, the better it’s gonna feel.”

You nodded, breathing through your nose as you laid back on the pillow. Relaxing, however, was going to take a little more effort. Just his gaze alone was enough to accelerate your heartbeat.

“So, tell me how you like to be touched.”

Once again, his words hung in the air like a thick cloud. Were you supposed to have an answer to that question?

“I dunno,” you shrugged.

“Well…what do you do to yourself? What feels good to you?” His eyes remained locked on yours while his hand moved up to play with the hem of your t-shirt.

“I um…” you paused, swallowing hard. “I usually just rub my clit.”

Harry nodded. “How? Show me.”

Color rising in your cheeks again, you sucked in your lips as you brought your hand down between your legs. Then you gently slid your finger down the outside of your panties along the center, finding the spot you usually went for first. Adding just a bit of pressure, you showed Harry how you touched yourself.

“Okay,” he said. “And does that feel good?”

“A little.”

“Just a little?” he raised a brow.

You hitched a breath when you saw him reach for your hand, covering it with his own. Guiding you, he pressed a little harder on your finger, moving it in gentle circular motions. You swallowed hard before letting out a tiny gasp.

“What about now?” Harry inquired.

“Better,” you breathed.

“Yeah? Is this how you usually do it?”

“For a little while,” you admitted. “When it starts to feel really good, I um…go underneath or take my panties off completely.”

“Mmm,” Harry nodded. “I’d like to do that. Can we?”

“O-okay.”

Harry’s mouth turned up in a slight grin as you lifted your hips to remove your underwear. Once they were off, you pushed them down the bed with your feet, your eyes still on Harry.

“Good,” he said. “Can I touch you now, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

Running his palm across your belly, his green eyes conveyed a sense of calmness, one you recognized well. Harry was always good at putting you at ease, whether it was at a party where you knew next to nobody but him, or just sitting on the couch talking about things that were bothering you. He was never judgemental or tried to press his opinion onto you. He made you feel good about everything, and while this was no exception, you couldn’t deny the somersaults your tummy was performing and the way your heart was thumping in your chest.

He was actually going to touch you now.

And he did. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he lightly sucked the tips of his middle and forefinger before reaching between your legs. You simply stared as his hand slid across your mound, unable to move. But before he could even touch your clit, he tapped the inside of your thigh with the back of his hand.

“Open your legs, love,” he instructed with a low chuckle. “I promise it feels so much better if I can actually reach you.”

Letting out a deep breath, you spread your legs open a little. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” said Harry. “I just want you to relax, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

“I know you won’t,” you muttered. “I’m just…it’s hard to relax right now.”

“Why?”

“Because…I guess I’m a little nervous.”

With a gentle expression on his face, Harry looked at you. “I wanna make you feel good, Y/N. Please don’t be nervous with me. It’s just me.”

You let out a half breath, half laugh as you glared at him. “That’s why I’m nervous.”

Tilting his head, Harry blinked. “Have you thought about this before…with me?”

Biting your lip, you nodded.

“Why…why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice so low you barely heard it.

“Because…I didn’t think anything would happen,” you explained. “Like this.”

Blinking again, Harry leaned over, capturing your mouth. You sighed as you felt him shift even closer, his hand gliding up the side of your shirt to cup your breast. He gave it a squeeze when you sucked delicately on his tongue. Then lifting his head, his eyelids heavy, he shook his head.

“Fuck, Y/N. I wish I’d known. I would have done this a long time ago.”

Before you could argue or retort, Harry wettened his fingers once more and brought them to your pussy. Ever so gently, just like he had moments before with your own hand, he added slight pressure to your clit, creating shapes with his movements. You gasped at the contact, immediately feeling the building sensation in your core.

“How’s that feel?” Harry whispered.

“So good,” you replied in a breathy tone, shutting your eyes.

“Open just a little wider, baby.”

You did as you were told, trying not to let the fact he’d just called you baby spin you into a sense of complete disarray. You focused on the feeling instead, the mere idea that Harry’s fingers were touching your pussy.

You could feel your legs begin to tremble, however, when his circles began to speed up. Your toes curled, and your breaths quickened.

“Oh…” you panted.

“Mmm, you like that?”

“Ohh, god yes.”

“Good girl. You’re doing great,” Harry cooed. “You’re getting so wet.”

Even with your eyes shut tight, you knew he was right. Not only could you feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, you could hear it like a sloshing mess as Harry pressed harder and moved his hand faster.

“Oh my god!” you cried.

“Do you want my fingers inside, or do you want me to keep going like this?”

“Like this!” you shouted a little too quickly.

Harry chuckled. “You got it, baby. I can do this as long as you need me to. Your pussy’s so pretty.”

You groaned at his words, the fire below igniting a whole knew sensation as you felt yourself grind against his hand. You dared a peek at him, opening your eyes to see him smirking at you. This was not his usual smirk like when he was kidding around with you, or letting you in on a secret. This was a smirk just for you, like he knew how he was making you feel, and he was enjoying it. Like he owned you. You always thought he was sexy, but fuck, when did he get so fucking sexy?!?

Harry’s hand slowed for just a moment, giving you both a bit of relief. Surely his wrist had to be aching by now, you thought. And the heavy stimulation was almost overwhelming for you. You noticed that’s when you would sometimes dry up and lose the orgasm entirely.

Shutting your eyes, you relaxed your hips, letting your legs fall open as they may, instead of tensed up like they were a moment before. You sighed again as Harry began to glide his fingertips up your slit and back down, gathering the wetness that had no doubt pooled at your entrance. You moaned at how delicately he was touching you now, with very little pressure at all.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud, partly because it felt amazing and partly because you missed the friction. “Harry…”

“Yeah, babe. That feel good?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what, baby? You have to tell me.”

“Mmm, harder please.”

“Is that too soft?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Alright,” you heard him say, and you knew he was grinning. But before he resumed the pressure, he lightly patted your pussy with his hand.

You knew he was just being cocky now, but you didn’t care. You’d never felt so turned on in your life, even from your own hand. And while your end goal was to come, you also didn’t want this to end.

“H-h-harry…” you moaned, the incredible friction returning, the sensation creating an overwhelming urge in your belly. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. Are you gonna come for me?”

That made you open your eyes. While his question was one you’d imagined him asking you every time you tried to get yourself off - and the sound of it coming from his lips was so fucking hot, it was a wonder you didn’t squirt right then and there - in the back of your mind you were still worried you couldn’t make it over the edge.

You reached out and grabbed his shirt in your fist, the other hand grasping at the sheet beneath you. Your eyes wide, you stared at him as you felt the pressure build and build, your legs trembling as you silently begged him to let you come.

“Oh my god!” you cried, tugging on his shirt.

And just at that moment, when you thought everything was about go black, Harry crashed his mouth into yours. Your tongue dancing with his, a low, aching moan rose from deep inside your gut. Your entire body shook as you held onto him, his fingers still caressing your wet clit as you came.

When you finally stopped shaking, but your chest was still heaving, Harry lifted both his head and his hand. Staring at you, he slid his hand up your waist, and his other cradled your neck. Then he pressed a kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours.

“Is that what you wanted, love?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Holy shit, Harry.”

With a deep chuckle, he shifted back to his side, pulling you with him. “I’m so glad I could do that for you,” he said, pushing a strand of hair from your face.

You looked at him in wonder. You’d always been in awe of him, since the first day you’d met. But now he was no longer just your friend Harry, your roommate Harry…he was…Harry! Jesus, what were you gonna do now?

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[mysteryshoptls]

SR Grim - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Let's keep on doing aaallll these fun things together"

[Kitchen]

Grim: It's… It's…

Grim: IT'S DONEEEE!!

Grim: Look, [Yuu]! My super special awesome cake's finished!

The cake looks like a tuna can…

Grim: Yeah! I made it look like the most delicious thing in the world. See how even the word "tuna" looks good?

Grim: As for what I put inside the cake… That's a surprise for when we eat it! MYAHA!

Grim: I bet this is gonna be the bestest thing on the table. We gotta hurry and get it back to Ramshackle!

[Ramshackle Dorm – Anniversary Party]

Grim: Slowly… Slowly…

Grim: Gently, gently… Careful…

We're almost back to the dorm, you got this!

Grim: Gah, carrying a cake so it doesn't collapse is so hard…!

Grim: …But all the guys we passed on the way here from the cafeteria said it totally looked tasty, yeah?

Grim: Y'know, maybe my genius ain't just in eatin' food, but makin' em, too.

Grim: Back when you and me took the Master Chef course, I thought all this work was a pain, but…

Grim: Now I'm thinkin' that it was good we did it. 'Cause now tasty things can be made into even tastier things!

Grim: Myahaha! Thanks to this cake, today's party's gonna be the cat's meow!

Grim: Ah! But that annoying guy Trein is gonna be there… He might get mad if I get too excited.

Grim: Maaan, he's always findin' things to nag me about. Like the other day, he tried scolding in me when I was runnin' in the halls.

Grim: It pissed me off, so I tried pokin' fun at him, but then he just came at me!

Grim: Obviously I ran, but that old man is faster than he looks…

Grim: And then he just caught me in no time, I wasn't expecting that. Just nabbed me by the neck.

Grim: "Try to be a bit more like Lucius," he said… But I ain't a cat, y'know!

Grim: Don't know if Trein snitched on me or what, but even Crewel got mad at me, saying "Stop causing problems."

Grim: But then Crewel whispered later, "If you're going to tease Trein-sensei, make sure you don't get caught."

Grim: Myahaha! Crewel might be a teacher, but sometimes he's got a wicked side. He gets me.

Grim: …Though, he can be a huge stickler if ya mess around in class or get bad grades.

Grim: I remember the other day was pretty scary. He had us all lined up in a row, and was grilling everyone on who spilled the chemicals on the table…

Grim: No one fessed up, and Ace and Deuce were silently keepin' their heads down, so I stayed quiet too.

Well, we all got held responsible, in the end.

Grim: Tch. Trein and Crewel are both way too strict!

Grim: I like Vargas's class the best. 'Cause I don't need to take difficult notes in his class!

Grim: Like the other day, he started going on and on, saying, "If you want to be a great mage, then you need to have muscles as rippling as mine!" or whatever…

Grim: I was just nodding along, and then class ended with just him talkin' about his own muscles. Myahaha, waaaay too easy～

Grim: …Hm? Wait a mo'.

Grim: Do you think… The reason that Vargas showed up here randomly one morning a few days ago to go exercise together…

Grim: DID HE THINK I WANTED TO TRAIN WITH HIM BECAUSE I WAS NODDING DURING ALL HIS BOASTING!?

Grim: The sun wasn't even up, it was still dark, so that was a real pain!!

Grim: …Man, I think I might like Crewel or Trein better after all, ‘cause they don't cause me problems.

[Ramshackle Dorm – Anniversary Party]

Grim: Y'know, now that I think about it, all the profs here are really strange… Is this school really alright?

Grim: Oh. But I think the strangest guy ain't one of the teachers, but Sam. I'm sure of it!

Grim: And that's cause… Remember the other day when I lost at rock-paper-scissors and I had to go buy snacks by myself?

Grim: Before I even got inside the store, I heard Sam talkin' with someone inside.

Grim: But… When I got inside, he was all alone.

Grim: When I asked who he was chattin' with, he said his "friends on the other side," but… WHAT DOES HE MEAN FRIENDS ON THE OTHER SIDE!?

Grim: He wouldn't tell me no matter how many times I asked. It's so eerie. But man, he's got a ton of cool stuff for sale, so I keep going back.

Grim: I remember then, too, before I could say what I wanted, he already had out the perfect number of snacks I had money for.

Grim: Oh yeah, and Crowley came in the shop right after me. Looks like he's always shoppin' at the Mystery Shop, too.

Grim: He started braggin' to me that he gets to order whatever he wants.

Grim: So I told him I wanted some special tuna cans then, and he says, "This privilege is for teachers only!"

Grim: He just kept on bragging, he's the worst! Crowley's so useless!

We should be thankful, since he let us attend here.

Grim: THANKFUL!? He should be thanking me for gracing this school with my genius!

Grim: And I bet Crowley'd gobble down the whole feast we got prepped if I take my eye off him for even a second…

Grim: No way I'm gonna give him a single bite. This time I'll make sure he's jealous of me.

Grim: Hey, [Yuu]. You 'n me're gonna protect this cake with our lives!

Grim: I might not be able to rely on you to do everythin' yourself, so good things we also got those ghosts.

Grim: If all us Ramshackle folk work together, we could even take on two Crowleys. We'll stun him silent!

Grim: I bet the ghosts're feelin' real alive right now. They were really getting' excited for Founding Day.

Grim: They were all, "It's so wonderful everyone is throwing a party here at Ramshackle～"

Grim: They also said that everything's getting' amped up 'cause we came to Ramshackle.

Grim: Myahaha. So that means… All the fun and happy times are all thanks to me!

1. Exactly!

Grim: Yeah. So you just keep on following me, no worries. Grim: As the boss, it's my job to take care of my henchie!

2. I think you're going a little overboard there.

Grim: Myah!? Y-You… You don't get how good I am to ya, huh!? Grim: I'm always pushin' myself hard doin' things for ya. Like, uh… Uh… ALL SORTS OF THINGS!

Grim: So let's keep on doing aaallll these fun things together!

Grim: Ah. Looks like everyone's here.

Grim: Hey, [Yuu], open the gate. We gotta bring the cake in quick!

Grim: I bet everyone'll be so surprised and happy. Myahaha. I can't wait～!

Requested by @butterflyremix.

[harpersdragons]

Theft in the family, Chapter 6

Much quicker update than last time, gotta love winter break

words: 2455

Jason is officially panicking.

Damian’s nowhere in sight, and clearly hasn’t been for a while.

There’s no sign of a struggle, which is extremely uncharacteristic of his brother, but in his concussed state could be explained.

Jason huffs, heart beating wildly in his chest. He rushes back to the kitchen to grab his phone, hitting Barbara’s number.

“Where is he?” Jason growls as soon as she picks up.

“What? Where is who?” Barbara sounds genuinely confused, but he’ll analyze that later.

”You said you wouldn’t tell Bruce!”

”I didn’t!”

“Then where the fuck did Damian go?” Jason snaps. He can’t bring himself to feel sorry about it. His brother is missing, and she’s supposed to have eyes on him.

Not that he specified that to her.

But, really, he thought it was assumed.

“Damian’s missing?”

“Keep up.” Jason sighs, tugging on his hair slightly, “Fuck, Barbie, I thought you were gonna keep an eye on him!”

“I never said I would! Honestly, there’s only so many things I can do at once! You bats always expect me to be everywhere, all the time!”

Jason growls, “I am not a bat.” He hangs up the phone without a second thought, barely restraining himself from tossing it across the room.

If the bats don’t have Damian, then the kid either left of his own volition (extremely unlikely), or the league took him.

Fuck.

Jason shoulda kept a closer eye on him, he knew taking Damian from the league was declaring war, Ra’s wouldn’t let him go without a fight.

Breathing deeply, he drops onto the couch.

There’s another person he could call.

But fuckin’ hell, it’s gonna be an unpleasant phone call.

He presses the contact, listening to it ring.

Another bolt of anxiety shoots through as it connects, and a voice rings out: “Hello?”

“Heyyy, Talia, listen—”

“What did you do now?” Talia’s voice radiates disappointment.

“What, I can’t just call you for fun?”

“When it’s nearly one in the morning in Gotham? No.”

“It’s not my fault this time!”

“What happened.”

“Damian may, or may not, have gone missing.”

Talia’s silence is deafening.

“What.” Her voice has gone deadly soft.

“I ran out for an hour or two, and was coming right back, and he was just gone! I swear, Talia, we were in a safe location. I don’t know how they found us. I covered our tracks and everything!” He knows he’s rambling, but couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Damian’s been missing for probably an hour, maybe longer, and that’s more than enough time for a League assassin to get him on a plane back to Nanda Parbat.

“Who, exactly, is they?”

“The league. I think. I don’t know for sure. I came back, and he was just gone.”

Talia hums across the line. “I’ll look into it.”

The dial tone rings out before Jason can speak again.

Jason collapses back against the couch. There’s no trail. Jason can’t even figure out when Damian was taken, let alone how. Even injured that kid is a force to be reckoned with.

Blowing a calming breath out, Jason heaves himself up. He has to do something. He can’t just sit around uselessly while Damian, while his brother, is out there with some assassin.

Jason pulls his gear on methodically, the motions somewhat soothing, focusing him and getting him out of his head.

This is fuckin’ war.

Just as he finishes strapping his weapons on and slinging his cloak over his shoulders, his phone rings again.

”I’ve got a location. The assassin, and it was definitely one of the League’s, wasn’t even smart about it. Talia helped out some, though I don’t know how you convinced her to do so.” Babs starts talking as soon as he picks up. He can hear her clicking the keys in the background, and then a location pops up on his phone.

”Thanks.” Jason growls and hangs up. He’s gonna get an earful about that later, but oh well. He’s got a kid to find.

Jason exits, using the trees to get to the city faster, and once he’s there he launches into the sky.

The location leads him to an old abandoned apartment building in Crime Alley. There’s no way to tell which apartment they’re in, Barbara’s tip only says they were seen entering the building. The assassin would know better than to turn lights on or make it obvious which apartment they’re in.

Jason perches on a roof on a nearby building, observing. The best tactic is probably to go in from the roof, and work his way down. This would be easier if he had a team, or at least a partner, so one of them can work down and the other can work up and they meet in the middle.

As it is, Jason’s alone.

He works steadily through the building, doing his best to keep the element of surprise, picking locks instead of smashing doors in. If the doors aren’t unlocked, the quality of the locks is abysmal.

It doesn’t take long before he finds the right apartment, able to hear a quiet voice inside it.

Jason unholsters one of his guns, and kicks the door in. The effect is instantaneous, the assassin whirls and draws his blade in one smooth motion.

Damian is unconscious and tied to a chair in the corner, but he looks unharmed.

Jason fires, the assassin dodges, flipping closer and knocking Jason’s gun wide.

The two grapple, but Jason eventually gets the upper hand, slamming the smaller man into the wall.

“You can not hide the Heir forever,” The assassin’s voice takes a sinister note, “The Demon’s Head always prevails.”

“Hm.” Jason cocks his head, staring the assassin down, “Possibly, but today’s not that day.” Without another word, he slips a dagger out of its sheath and lodges it in the man’s chest. He yanks the blade out just as quickly, stepping back and letting the assassin fall to the ground. He waits to ensure the man dies, before absently wiping the blood off on his pants and rushing to Damian.

He cuts his brother loose, then catches him as he sags forward. Hefting Damian into his arms, he quickly texts Babs and Talia that he’s got him, and heads back up to the roof.

Grappling will be more difficult since Damian is still unconscious, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully he has some rope in a pocket (you thank Batman’s need to be prepared for any situation at a given time), and he can secure Damian to his chest and leave his hands free.

The trip back towards the safe house settles his mind more, and he allows himself to cherish the feeling of his baby brother strapped to his chest.

Damian’s unconscious, but he’s alive and—mostly, he still has a concussion—uninjured.

Once he’s a decent way away from the apartment building, he stops on a rooftop. He needs to actually check Damian over more thoroughly and make sure there’s no new injuries. He unwinds the impromptu harness he created, setting Damian on the ground near an AC vent.

“Dames, can you hear me?”

No response, he doesn’t even shift.

It was expected, but that doesn’t mean Jason likes it.

He can’t find any new injuries, so he starts preparing to finish the journey to the safehouse. He still needs to get groceries soon, but they can make do for a bit longer. Damian needs the rest. Hell, Jason needs the rest.

Distantly he hears the distinctive swish of a cape—well, distinctive if you were trained by the Bat and are accustomed to hearing it. Seconds later, there’s the soft thud of boots hitting the roof, accompanied by Bruce’s low growl, “Step away from the kid.”

Jason does no such thing. He does, however, turn around slowly. Dick and Tim land on either side of Bruce. “Wow…the kid? Not your kid? I’m impressed, Batsy, you’ve hit a new level of repression. I woulda thought if you saw a crime lord crouching over your missing son you’d be a bit more upset.”

Bruce doesn’t respond.

Jason’s hands itch to reach for his weapons, but he can’t make the first move. He doesn’t stand a chance against all three of them.

One? Absolutely.

Two could possibly be doable.

But there’s no chance in hell he can fend off all three.

“Y'know what? I think I’ll keep him. After all, you clearly can’t be trusted to watch after him.” Jason smirks under his mask. He watches Bruce make a discreet motion with his hand, and readies himself for an attack. It was one he didn’t recognize, obviously something they came up with after he died.

He’s not waiting long before both Nightwing and Robin launch themselves at him. Bruce stays back, for now.

That’s a great thing, because Jason’s gonna have enough of a time fending off these two.

Tim’s not a problem, the kid’s a decent fighter, but he’s no match for Jason.

Dick on the other hand…

The flippy bastard is hard to actually hit.

No matter how much Jason wants to deck him.

He whirls, ducking under Nightwing’s aerial attack, throwing a hit upwards—and missing. How the fuck did Nightwing dodge mid air?

Tim’s attack was the opposite of Dick’s, he came at Jason from the ground, whipping his bo staff at Jason’s face. Jason barely manages to duck, risking a glance behind him to make sure Damian’s out of range of the fight. He can’t lead them away, because that leaves Damian open for one of them to grab, but he doesn’t want Damian caught in the line of fire—metaphorical fire, he’s not pulling his guns out when his baby brother is so close.

Jason dodges an attempt to grab him from Dick, landing a hit on Tim as he does.

The fight continues, Jason getting hits in occasionally, but mainly trying to dodge getting his ass kicked.

Tim’s bo staff is fuckin’ annoying, man.

He keeps an eye on Bruce’s position, but the old man seems content to watch for now. Jason backs up a step, dodging another swipe of a bo staff and subsequent escrima attack (The bastards fighting styles coordinate. Jason is gonna throw someone off a roof. Possibly himself). His foot nudges the kid behind him, and he feels Damian flinch violently, a small whine leaving his mouth.

Shit

He’s awake.

The noise makes Dick falter just enough for Jason to land a knockout punch, drawing his sword immediately after and blocking Tim’s incoming swing. The screech of metal makes Damian flinch again, barely suppressing a cry. Jason can vaguely hear him shifting further away, a slight movement of gravel.

With Dick out of the way, it’s much easier to incapacitate his replacement. Tim goes down quickly, and he sees Bruce shift forward. Jason levels his sword in his direction, “Not another step, Old Man.”

“Put the sword down.”

“I think not.” He crouches down, turning towards Damian but still keeping an eye on Bruce. Damian seems frozen where he is, curled in as tight of a ball as he can get. “S’alright, Habibi, you’re ok.”

Damian doesn’t seem to hear him, so Jason waits. Damian doesn’t particularly like to be touched when he’s distressed, so the best course is to wait until he’s responsive and can seek Jason out himself.

It doesn’t take too long, and Damian uncurls himself slowly. His face is wet with tears, eyes red and chest heaving.

“There we go. We’re all good here, Princeling.” Jason opens one arm, offering a hug. The kid launches at him, and Jason holds him tight. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Damian buries his face in Jason’s shoulder, “Can we leave, Akhi?”

“Soon, Habibi, just gotta deal with bat infestation.” Jason levels a glare at Bruce.

“You’re not leaving with him.”

“Listen, I have had maybe 3 hours of sleep in the past 2 days—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t kidnap children.”

“I’m not done. I’m tired, and you can go fuck yourself, alrigh’? Damian’s my brother, I’m not gonna hurt him. Give me ‘till Sunday morning and I’ll have him back to you completely unharmed.”

“Hn.”

“What more do you want, Old Man? This is as close to begging as I’m gonna get. I’ll fight you if you really want to, but I’d really rather not.”

Damian turns his head, making eye contact with his father, “Can I go with him, Baba? I will be safe.”

Jason can see Bruce bluescreen at the endearment, and honestly he gets it.

“What the fuck, kid?”

Bruce still hasn’t rebooted. Jason should probably leave now before he does.

“...Jason?” Bruce speaks quietly.

Jason.exe has crashed, please hold while maintenance is performed.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” It definitely takes him a solid minute to reboot his own brain. “Your kid basically just called you dad, and that’s what you’re getting from this?”

“You didn’t deny it…how—how are you alive?”

Hell, he’s not equipped for this bullshit. He can practically hear Bruce’s impending breakdown.

Fuck this shit.

He can see Dick and Tim and starting to shift, and he does not want an act 2 of this bullshit.

Please exit stage left

“Ask your ex. Peace out!” Jason sheaths his sword, grabbing his grapple gun and making sure his hold on Damian is secure, then launches himself off the building.

“Wait—!” He can hear Bruce’s yell from behind him, but he just propels himself faster.

Why the absolute fuck did he grapple all the way from Bristol?

It takes them a while before they get back to the safehouse, and he hopes they didn’t fuckin’ follow him, he doesn’t have it in him to move safehouses again.

When they do finally arrive, Damian is starting to fall asleep again. Jason convinces him to go take a quick shower. They don’t have clothes for either of them, so that’ll have to be on the shopping list for tomorrow.

When they finally settle into bed, Jason leans against the headboard. He doesn’t think he can sleep knowing an assassin broke in here about 4 hours ago. He has to be awake to guard Damian.

He gets up and grabs Pride and Prejudice, may as well reread it, he’s got no other entertainment.

He leans back, running his finger over the old annotations, and settles in for a long night.

He drifts off at some point, slumping further against the headboard, book falling open in his lap, Damian’s head resting against his stomach.

[arcane-vagabond]

If Tarzan gets to know/see more women, would the reader be afraid to not have his attention anymore? Would she think he was only interested because she was "something new"?

I think Boots would definitely be a tad insecure. She was the first woman Bradley had ever seen, after all, and I'm sure the same thoughts would be running through her head.

She knew this was a big step for him, and this is what the team had been working up to for the past year. It had started with exposing Bradley to the local village and working him up to a nearby city. Finally, you had convinced him to fly back home to San Diego with you and Bradley.

He had handled the plane ride fine, gripping your hand tightly at both takeoff and landing, but now the real test came. You and Jake would be standing on either side of Bradley as you walked through the airport, both keeping your eyes on the larger man for any signs of distress as you reached the gate for your layover. Of course, yours weren't the only eyes on him.

You had noticed a group of girls giggling and pointing at him a couple of minutes ago, and you felt your muscles tense when one of the pretty blondes strutted up to stand in front of him.

"Hi," she grinned, pearly white teeth standing out against her beautifully tanned skin. Bradley glanced up from the tablet in front of him to look at her. You held your breath. Would he want her now? Were you really just something to pass the time with? He had options now, after all.

Bradley said nothing as he cocked his head to the side, eyes studying the woman in front of him. She was undettered, twirling a strand of hair in between her fingers as she continued to give him a sultry look.

"I'm Mia," she continued, batting her eyes at him. "What's yours?"

"Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," she giggled, and Bradley frowned. "What are you headed to San Diego for?"

"Going home," he replied, eyes narrowing in confusion as the blonde leaned forward.

"Home, huh?" She hummed. "Maybe we could hang out sometime? I can give you my number-"

"No," Bradley cut her off, shifting away from her. Mia's smile faltered, but she quickly regained her confidence, clasping her hands in front of her so that her boobs almost spilled out of her top.

"Aw, come on," she pouted playfully, leaning forward again. "It could be so much fun."

"No," Bradley said again, frowning. "Don't want to. Want to stay with my girlfriend."

You felt your heart clench at that. The two of you hadn't really spoken about relationships or what you would classify yours as, but his declaration had you fighting to keep from launching yourself into his arms. You'd definitely have to ask him where he learned the word later though.

"You're girlfriend?" Mia scoffed, finally looking at you. You kept your gaze pointedly on the tablet in your hands, pretending to scroll through your notes as she studied you. Mia let out a huff before turning her attention back to Bradley. "Well, if you change your mind, I'll be sitting right over there, handsome."

"I won't," Bradley said simply, and it took all of your strength to hold in your snort. Mia's lips pressed into a thin line before turning on her heel and walking away. It was only a few moments later when Jake collapsed into the seat on the opposite side of Bradley, passing you a water bottle that you took gratefully.

"What did I miss?" He asked with a grin, unscrewing the cap off his own bottle. You chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss to Bradley's cheek.

"Oh, nothing really."

[too-antigonish]

My Strange but Unified Theory of Exeunt

Last week I talked about the poem Horatio in a post about Morse and fathers and @astridcontramundum asked what I thought it meant in the context of Exeunt. Hopefully she won't be sorry she asked because here's my (as usual) long answer:

Horatio is quoted from twice in Exeunt. The first time, Prof. Fortescue is lecturing to his students at a tutorial and gives us the most famous lines:  

Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate:  "To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods?"

The second time occurs just before Thursday’s has his “turn” in the same spot where Morse will many years later experience his own collapse. He says: ”’How well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old.’ We'd a padre big on that out in the desert. Drumhead service just before Alamein. ‘And how can man die better than facing fearful odds?’ Always stuck with me.”

I think they used those lines to plainly tease the idea that Thursday was going to die. Prior to Exeunt airing, almost everyone thought Thursday would have to die in order to explain Morse’s never mentioning him again in the future. When Fortescue says those lines in the beginning, I think we’re supposed to think that someone—probably Thursday—is going to die heroically. Then Thursday repeats some of the poem—connecting it to his WWII service—just before he has his “spell” and it seems like more foreshadowing. 

The thing about the poem though, that most people *don’t* know, is that the big surprise at the end is that Horatio *doesn’t* die. It just looks like he will: Even when his companions have abandoned the bridge because it is on the verge of collapse, Horatius remains. He stays until bridge finally does fail, and then plunges into the river below with the full weight of his armor. It is certain death and both sides stand stunned into silence by his final sacrifice.

But then, both sides find themselves even more surprised when they see the crest of his helmet beginning to rise from the water and he slowly emerges, striding towards the Roman bank. He not only survives, but arrives home to a hero’s welcome and a long life.

All of the usual narrative pieces are in place for us to expect Thursday to make the ultimate sacrifice—to die. For me, Thursday—like Horatio—does sacrifice everything, but the poem was actually foreshadowing his survival, not his death. And for Thursday, his survival is in many ways a far more difficult sacrifice than death would have been. It would have been easier for him in so many ways if he had died in defense of Sam or even fighting Lott. Instead he has to live with the ambiguous and messy aftermath.

Morse could also be Horatio in the sense that he goes to Blenheim Vale facing a high probability of death. What were the chances that the bikers would “come through” for him? That Morse went expecting to be double-crossed and killed by Lott seems much more likely to me. But I do think that Morse, like Horatio, would reason that, “If you’re going to go, then there’s no better way than defending the things that are most important to you,” and so he goes anyway.

He survives too—but unlike Horatio, his heroism will always remain a secret *and* with his realization about Thursday’s guilt and Lott’s revelation about Tomahawk’s identity, it brings perhaps more sorrow than it does victory. And, I would argue that his survival is only temporary or perhaps partial.

The gunshot scene has many possible interpretations, but at its core, my (forever unprovable) theory is that it balances out the survival foreshadowed by Horatio. Horatio was all about the audience assuming that Thursday had to die. But along with that went the assumption that of course Endeavour had to live. This is a prequel after all.

But the gunshot scene said a big, loud, “No. We can kill off Endeavour if we want to and we will.” You can go back and forth until the cows come home about whether or not the scene was simply him contemplating death, actually going through with it, or absolutely, purely symbolic and imaginative. However, I don’t think you can honestly argue that the scene doesn’t somehow connect the concepts of  “Endeavour Morse,” “gun,” and “death” to each other. Somehow those concepts have to be included in any interpretation.

So this leads to my weird theory about Exeunt, which is that Russ Lewis heard everyone saying, “Well I don’t know what’s going to happen in the end, but of course we all know that Morse is going to live—so no suspense there. And Thursday, well, he has to die. I mean it’s the only way to explain why we never hear about him later.” And to this, Russ Lewis thought, “Ha! I’m going to do exactly the opposite. Thursday lives and Morse dies!” 

Am I right? I will never know. Do I have more thoughts on Exeunt? You really, really don't want to know just how many.

[autistichalsin]

I wonder if you have thoughts on like.... the other members of his grove? and halsin relating to them? bc apart from rath and maybe two more, they all seem very dicky to me 🤔 and ya, halsin said it's been a burden, and being a kind-hearted dude like him leading a bunch of bastards that think so highly of themselves could definitely contribute to the stress. I guess i don't get it? the one at the steps by the bear is like 'hold on give them a chance' @ the bear when we come in but then in the same breath is like 'no step further or i show you my claws' and seems like has to be talked down from being hostile by third druid; then later when we stop the ritual she's like 'we stopped the chanting but that doesn't give you the right to be disrespectful to this place' and some rando other druid went something along the lines of 'you're overstaying your welcome' - im just thinking how horrible halsin's life must have been surrounded by pricks like that 😔

Short version: yeah, everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck lol

Long version: everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck, BUT you can see several who are having doubts about what they're doing, and many of them come back to themselves once Halsin returns.

There were, I think, multiple things going on here:

By his own admission, Halsin wasn't a very strong leader. He never had leadership skills taught or modeled for him before becoming Archdruid, and further, his promotion was under incredibly traumatic circumstances. The survivor guilt, the admiration he had towards the previous Archdruid, likely left him not wanting to fully engage with the role out of fear of replacing him or at least seeming to do so.

The refugee situation was noted to be causing stress at the Grove as supplies were dwindling (I guess we're supposed to forget Goodberry is a spell ANY Druid can do, lol). This would have not only sown resentment against Halsin and the refugees for putting them in this situation, but crucially, it would have given an outsider enemy for the Grove. Cults (like the Shadow Druids) operate at their strongest when they have a threat, or appearance of one, to unite members and potential members under. "We are the only ones who can keep you safe from these outsiders who may be from hell itself, who are using all your supplies and contributing nothing, who are the reason you're being attacked by goblins every other day." And Halsin, as much as I love him, showed poor judgment in going with the goblins at that precise moment, and with little explanation to the others. It shows where his heart and priorities are- always with the Shadow-Cursed Lands first- but that would not be an endearing things for his stressed Druids.

Kagha not only fell in with this cult, but unfortunately, she had a lot of what Halsin was lacking as a leader- she just chose to use this skills for evil. She was persuasive (something Halsin admits he wasn't so good at), she presented herself as being concerned with the group's welfare in a way Halsin wasn't quite able to do (since his heart was elsewhere), and her zealotry seemed preferable to the other Druids in contrast to Halsin's mixed attention.

This cannot be understated: the Grove was deliberately targeted by Ketheric Thorm. He knew from experience that the Grove posed a significant threat, and he ordered his underlings to make contact with the Shadow Druids and send them to the Emerald Grove, to either persuade them to carry out the Rite of Thorns or at least cause so much division that the social bonds collapsed entirely and the Grove was left too divided to be able to accomplish anything. Ketheric and the Shadow Druids were able to find all of the above weaknesses and exploit them effortlessly.

So then it became a game of scapegoating, which is a favored recruitment technique of cults. "We're here because of the Other, and because our leader was too weak to fix the problem before it got this bad. We need a new leader; a leader who cares only for us and isn't afraid to tell the truth about these immigrants refugees who want to destroy America our Grove by leading gangsters and drug lords goblins right to us! Build the Wall Perform the Rite of Thorns!"

No one is immune to propaganda and everyone is a potential target for cults. It very well could be that all of the Druids, even Kagha, were once genuinely kind people who were manipulated by the cult into believing their kindnesses would get the Grove destroyed; they took on the "it's us or them" mentality.

For the timeframe to work, it either would have had to be happening in secret before Halsin left, or Halsin would have had to be gone for a while; since we know it wasn't TOO terribly long but hadn't JUST happened either, my guess is that Kagha had been spreading Shadow Druid doctrine in secret for some time, and had been planning to usurp Halsin's position even if he hadn't been kidnapped. That just made it easier once it happened. (There is a formal process within the Druids to challenge an Archdruid for their position; I don't know if Halsin even would have fought Kagha that hard if she kept her true intentions a secret. He had faith in her at this point after all, and didn't want the leadership position. That's a terrifying thought.)

So, then, Halsin comes back, and sees evil ideas spreading in all his Druids, starting with Kagha. Depending on the player's actions, he may or may not know it goes deeper than her. He can also see that his reputation has been severely damaged, if not ruined, in his absence; almost none of the Druids have any respect for him anymore. So he makes the wise decision to bring in Francesca, who they have no choice but to respect, and backs away himself. At this point, he intends to return someday when the Druids have been deprogrammed, but of course, later he decides it's not worth it anyway.

So back to: how bad must his life have been surrounded by that? Well, as mentioned, my headcanon is he wasn't surrounded by it very long, if at all. He thought everything was just normal, until he got back from being kidnapped and quickly found it very much wasn't. Whether that's better or worse, though, is up to interpretation. What's worse- seeing those you love fall victim to a cult, or thinking everything is completely fine, and then one day discovering they've been sucked in deep and there's nothing you can do to persuade them anymore since they've come to see you as The Enemy?

In any case, Halsin deserved much better, and I like to think he keeps in touch with Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis after the epilogue, even if he keeps his distance from the Grove itself.

[shadows-shells]

idle thoughts on 2k3 Raph

(coz he deserves his own post, sry for the late reply and thanks for the ask @nightwatcherraph !)

First impressions: "yo' mama" 🤣🤣🤣 nah jk 😂 it's a great line 😂 IJBOLed when i saw it for the first time. 

While i like all 4 - Leo is my fave, followed by Don, and i like Raph and Mikey about the same. 

while Raph gets called a hothead in-series occasionally - Don and Mikey both STARED at him when he called S4 Leo a hothead - for the most part i didn't actually think his temper was that bad (or maybe i myself am just as bad-tempered as he is 🤣).

His ep with Mrs Morrison is so sweet and good, and those fics writing him later bringing his bros over to befriend Mrs Morrison are 100% canon in my book. 

I see Raph as a principled, kind and determined person. The same can prolly be said for any of the bros, but i think what sets him apart in his characterisation is he will always be the first one to start a serious fight, verbal or physical. It was shown early on in the series how this can be a flaw (when the violence is heavier than the situation warrants, when he isn't in full control of his choices etc) but i do think as Raph matures, it is a strength (he can shut things down FAST and his reputation deters weaker opponents). 

Tbh i think it is smth that all 4 bros have, just that it shows externally in different ways. Raph decides on the spot you are dangerous and draws his sai; Don decides on the spot you are a dangerous fool and proceeds to tune you out while secretly hacking your tech; Leo decides on the spot you are an enemy and already has orders for his brothers; Mikey decides on the spot you are an enemy and to pull wtv chaos it takes to have his team succeed. 

And i imagine this decisiveness/courage is something that gives his brothers a sense of security and comfort, having someone that strong and decisive looking out for you. 

The part where Leo lets Raph take his swords off him without a word/even fully turning his head - that scene lives in my brain rent-free, and is soundless proof of just how much the most-paranoid/on-guard brother trusts Raph. 

Combat-wise - where Don prefers to work on his sciences and Mikey has all those other hobbies - when things go to hell and they need someone to brute-force their way through bad odds, or when things get ugly and they can't be nice anymore - Leo's sending in Raph, for sure. 

Disclaimers abound because i do think all 4 are incredible athletes and have their own combat strengths: Mikey is implied to keep up and even best the rest with minimal focus/training, and i've seen meta pointing out that Don is consistently portrayed in 2k3 as particularly physically strong, and both 'gentler' brothers have also berserked at enemies...but in my head, Raph and Leo are the ones who would readily choose justice over mercy for perceived threats to their family, where it would take more for the other two to really face that question. 

The childhood flashbacks make it clear that Raph never seriously fought Leo for leadership nor did he particularly desire it. But an anon ask mentioned that Raph did not want leadership, and that got me thinking as well. 

For sure Raph did not actively seek it out - but i don't think it was made as obvious that Raph actively does not want leadership. 

All 3 bros in their solo eps and arcs have shown initiative and strategic thinking for sure. They all could lead if push came to shove. And i do think practical, paranoid Leo would have made sure that the family wouldn't collapse if someone else had to lead. 

I'm thinking - Raph does enjoy the adrenaline and freedom of not having to lead. Free to jump in whenever he wants and to feel whatever he does, without having to compromise himself for bigger stakes. I think Mikey's speech in S4 did get through to Raph, and Raph's temper subsides after this was explicitly pointed out to him. 

Raph's childhood memories of Leo (when Leo was drifting into leadership) are fond and i think Raph always knew, on some level, and is glad that he isn't leading. That's why he helps Leo reforge his swords supportively and gently without any thought of rivalry or comparison; that's why he's angry and disappointed in early-S4 Leo when he would've seen it as an opportunity and a positive thing, if he had wanted leadership or even held any envy for Leo at all. 

When Leo comes back from Japan - before Leo even really says anything - the first thing Raph says to Leo is a panicked status report. Without being asked! Raph is worried sick for the rest of his family, but he is also quickly and immediately telling Leo what went wrong so that Leo can help. This is Raph maintaining the team dynamic (promptly and honestly escalating issues to the leader(s) for help).

Raph also expresses his own sense of failure at not managing to keep everyone tgt in one place - and when Leo shuts that down, comforting him - Raph is not surprised. It shows that this is something he was asking for and expecting, something he is used to. 

Raph easily accepts the comfort, believes Leo when Leo says everyone else is okay, and follows Leo home. This is not the egoistic angry allergic-to-vulnerability caricature that some fics and official media portray; 2k3 Raph has a lot more sensitivity and maturity. 

(i try not to bash but can u tell who still regrets paying for the 2007 movie ticket to this day 🤣)

i think one last bit about Raph that always draws argument is whether he or Don is the 'older' sibling 😂 

The 2k3 theme song consistently shows Leo-Don-Raph-Mikey, i think. 

in my head, probably they all see each other the same age - Leo&Mike as the clear stereotypically older/younger ones, and Raph and Don as the equals in-between. 

Like classmates, being the same age doesn't affect who is a natural leader, or knowing that someone else is a few mths older/younger might not actl affect how much more/less mature/confident etc they might be. 

iirc in the series it is always 'brother', never a 'younger' or 'older' brother? 

YT used to have a few eps of it in JPN dub (unfortunately all gone now) and i specifically looked for it while in uni. I wanted to know how it would be translated. In those few eps i saw (early S2), it was all kyoudai/brother and not a single ani/otouto/nii-san/nii-chan etc. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

i don't think/write abt Raph as much as i do Leo, but he is absolutely a dear and i enjoy writing and reading meta about him too. 

open invite to all the true 2k3-Raph stans to share their thoughts and opinions on Raph!

[keirasanimeblog]

Imagine how each person reacts to you getting hurt in a fight.

You're normally a fighter and can hold your own. This injury takes you and your companions by surprise.

Sanzo

Sanzo didn’t rush to your side when you collapsed after the fight. Instead, he stood there with his revolver still smoking. His amethyst eyes scanned the battlefield with a sharp glare. His lips were pressed into a grim line, and it was hard to tell if he was angry at you, himself, or the situation.

Once the dust settled, Sanzo walked over to where you lay. “Idiot,” he muttered as he crouched down beside you. You were surprised that his voice sounded rougher and quieter than usual. There was no bite to it. “What were you thinking, taking on that many by yourself?”

His hands hovered over your wounds, his touch light and surprisingly careful despite the harshness of his tone. When you winced, he froze, his amethyst eyes narrowed. Luckily it wasn’t life threatening. You both realized this at the same time. His hands were slightly shaky as he pulled away.

Hakkai quickly came and began to tend to your injuries. Sanzo stood and lit a cigarette. He turned his gaze away from you and exhaled a plume of smoke through his gritted teeth. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” he said coldly.

Later that night after being healed you stirred uneasily. You blinked and caught sight of him sitting near you in the inn. His head drooped in the chair and you realized that perhaps he was more worried than he let on. You know if you brought it up he’d deny it instantly.

Gojyo

Gojyo froze the second he saw you fall. “Hey!” he shouted, his voice cut through the chaos as he charged toward you. The playful smirk he usually wore had vanished, replaced by a look of raw determination. The last demons fell under his Shakujo, his movements were faster and more vicious than you’d ever seen.

As soon as the fight ended, he dropped to his knees beside you. “What the hell were you trying to prove?” he demanded. His voice cracked slightly as he added, “You’re supposed to be better than this, damn it.”

You could see his crimson eyes flicker with worry. The usual cocky demeanor was gone. Instead it was replaced seriousness. Something you rarely saw. “What happened to that fighter I know, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

Hakkai quickly stepped over to heal you but Gojyo stayed close. His hand on top of yours.

Later, after your wounds had been healed he sat next to you. He’d never left your side. “Next time, don’t be a hero.” He ran a hand through his crimson hair. “That’s my job.” His eyes then softened when a smile appeared on your face.

Hakkai

Hakkai noticed the moment you faltered. His sharp green eyes darted to you. “Hang on!” His movements became precise and efficient before he rushed to your side.

It only took moments for him to fight his way to you and when he did get to you he knelt by your side. He quickly assessed your injuries before sighing in relief. “You’ll be alright,” he said softly, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his concern. His chi glowed when he healed you. His touch was firm yet gentle.

“You’ve been reckless before, but this…” he murmured. “This was something else entirely. Don’t make me have to do this gain.” You couldn’t help but feel guilty for the worry in his voice. When the healing was done, Hakkai lingered and put a hand on your shoulder. “You scared me,” he admitted, his gaze met yours. “Next time, let us help you before it gets this bad. We are a team for a reason.”

Later that night after you’d been healed Hakkai made sure you were well fed with dinner. He was stern about making sure you had a sufficient amount of food after such an injury.

Dokugakuji

Doku’s roar of anger shook the battlefield when he saw you fall. He fought his way to you with a single-minded determination. His sword strikes were faster and harder than normal. He cut a clear path to you and by the time he got to you they were all defeated or retreated.

Once next to you he dropped his weapon, completely forgetting about it as you are the only thing he can think of. He knelt down beside you, his hands trembled slightly and he helped you sit up. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. “Why didn’t you call for help? You know we’ve got your back.”

His expression softened slightly. He pulled his shirt off and used it to stop the bleeding, frustration still lingered on his face. “You don’t always have to do everything alone,” he said. “You’re not invincible, no matter how strong you think you are.”

Once your wounds were patched up by Yaone, he stayed close. He kept an arm around you for support. Later after your wounds had been patched up he sat close to you. His arms were crossed and brows furrowed. “You’re tougher than most people I know,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But don’t scare me like that again.”

Kougaiji

The moment you went down, Kougaiji’s eyes locked on you. His expression hardened and he abandoned his current fight to charge toward you. He unleashed a flurry of powerful attacks that obliterated the enemies around you. His violet eyes burned with fury. His movements were laced with an urgency he rarely showed.

When the battlefield was clear, he knelt beside you. There was tension in his jaw despite how steady his hands were. “You’re reckless,” he growled. “And it’s going to get you killed one day.”

Despite his scolding tone, there was a gentleness in the way he supported you as you tried to sit up. When you started to apologize, he cut you off with a sigh. “I don’t need your apology,” he said, his voice softening. “I need you to stop putting yourself in danger like this.”

Later, after you’d been healed by Yaone you noticed him standing against the wall near you. His arms were crossed and his usual stoic demeaned cracked just enough for you to see his worry. “You’re strong,” he said quietly. “But even the strongest need someone to watch their back. Let me do that for you.”

[moonydustx]

The phoenix and the dove.

Pairing: Marco The Phoenix x F!Reader Warnings: angst, angst and more angst. Mention of pregnancy and pregnancy loss, mention of blood and gunshots. Reader and Marco have a long-standing relationship. Not necessarily canonical, since I refuse to accept the "disappearance" of some characters mentioned. A/N: I know, I mentioned today that we should have more Marco stories, but the idea that was already floating around in my head was one of pure sadness.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Italics are for flashbacks (which are a lot in this story)

It was just supposed to be a visit to the nearby island to collect supplies. It was only a few hours and you two were back.

The silence between you and Ace occupied the Striker in silence. When he met you in front of the bar, you had made it very clear that you didn't want any questions about it. The blood fell from your arms and your face, spreading throughout your body. The only thing Ace insisted on asking was if any part of the blood was yours, which you insisted on denying.

As soon as your feet met Moby Dick, the curious eyes automatically turned to you. You just wanted to go to your room, get rid of all that blood and drive away the bad thoughts that were echoing in your mind.

"What is this about?" you came face to face with Captain Whitebeard. The loud and angry tone of his voice made it clear that you wouldn't escape so easily.

"I fell into a trap, that's all." you replied, even though the old man knew it was a lie.

"Are you hurt?" he asked and you denied. "How was that trap?"

"Pops, can I talk about this later?" you asked. "Please Pops, I just need to be alone for a bit." your voice broke at the end.

You knew that despite many fearing your captain, he had a soft spot for you, at least after everything that happened inside the ship a while ago.

"I'll be waiting for your report." he just responded and you knew that was your cue.

Your room seemed even quieter, as did the bath that washed all the red liquid from your body. You felt restless and trapped in your own mind, which was your biggest enemy that day. You put on your clothes and when you returned to your room, you found the ship's doctor - also known as your boyfriend of a few years - waiting for you. The crossed arms and serious expression showed that he had already been informed of your condition upon arrival.

"I said I wanted to be alone." the frustration in your voice echoed throughout the room, even if only a whisper had left your lips.

"I'm here on Pops' orders yoi" Marco grumbled, sitting on the bed in front of you and looking at you while drying your hair. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"My dovey…" the regretful tone in his voice seemed to make your conscience even worse and you didn't want to get closer to him, you knew that the few meters of distance between you two was just the thin line for you to collapse. "I can see some cuts from here."

"It's okay, Marco." despite knowing it would be a lot for you, something about the way he looked at you made you finally feel safe. "It was just a difficult situation."

"Was that because they were calling you fragile?" He stood up, closing the space between you. The morning before you and Ace left, some had made some snarky comments about the lecture Marco gave Ace about your safety being his responsibility while they were gone. "I'm terrible at pretending, I'm here as a doctor and a boyfriend." He emphasized, holding your face between his hands. "Ace told part of what happened, said you started the fight."

"Babe, please." You let your face fall, leaning into his chest and sighing deeply. Your eyes burned just thinking about bringing words to the world.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay." he kissed the top of your hair, smoothing the covered skin of your back. "But, I know you and I know that keeping anything to yourself will hurt you." when your face submerged in the hug, Marco felt his heart fragment when he saw that in addition to the scratches on your face, there were thick tears running down your cheeks. "Take your time, dovey."

"I was in a store and Ace was in a restaurant, waiting for me." You moved away from him, your feet walked almost in circles to try to dispel the nervousness that was building up. Marco already knew his modus operandi, you just needed to air out whatever had pushed you to that limit. "I wanted to buy some nonsense, you know? So I waited for someone to help me, but I heard a strange noise coming from the back of the store, a scream."

Marco leaned against the door, his arms crossed and his serious expression showing that he suspected someone had provoked you. He knew his girl and even though her role wasn't that, she would know how to defend herself - and that technically explained the amount of blood she had gotten.

"I-I thought it might be someone from the store, some robbery." As the words left your lips, they became even more blurred by tears. "I went in and saw a girl crying and a little girl being handcuffed, along with two other children."

"This is horrible." Marco whispered, trying to get closer to you again. He knew how sensitive the topic was for you, and if he was being honest, it was extremely sensitive for him too. "Did you manage to save them?"

"How to save? She was selling the girl Marco, selling a child." the choked voice was replaced by hatred and venom in your words. "When I got close I saw the bag of berris in her hand."

Marco watched you stop for a few seconds, breathe and try to ignore the tears that still insisted on falling rapidly.

"Whose blood was it?"

"Of the damned people who were going to buy the children." you answered as if it was obvious. No matter how hard you tried, you refused to kill that woman. "They saw me a-and I-I…"

"Love?" he tried to hold you, but your hands covered your face, trying to suppress your sobs. His arms then went down to your shoulders, trying to offer some kind of comfort that he knew was impossible. "It's okay now, you sorted it out."

"H-How? How she had c-courage. That little girl was the same age as our Kairy would be." If there was still any piece of Marco's heart left to fragment, it would be over at that moment. "I know, I was fragile enough to lose our little girl. But how did that woman have the courage to give hers away, like it was just trash?"

No matter how much Marco thought, it was impossible to find words. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the night almost two years ago.

It was another peaceful night at Moby Dick, the newly discovered pregnancy had put you away from your duties, at least in those first four months in which nausea and weakness were your best friends. Although they didn't know yet, half of the crew - including Yonkou - had bet on the baby's sex and the majority were betting on the girl, who would be called Kairy.

The noises of cannons and the commotion on the ship woke you from your reading and it didn't take long for strange men to appear in your field of vision. You dodged the first attack, but the second hit you square in the face, knocking you down. Before the third one came, Izou got in front of you, knocking the man down.

"Go hide, now!" he shouted in your direction and at other times you would disagree, but you knew that there you would only be concern.

Only a few steps separated you from the inside of the ship, where it would be much easier to hide, when the noise reached you before the pain. When your body found the ground again, you could feel the pain radiate through your torso and down your leg. Vivid red blood stained your dress and the strength seemed to have drained from your body. You had no idea how long you lay there, seconds, minutes or hours. It was only when a freckled and seemingly desperate face appeared in your field of vision that your consciousness seemed to return.

"Shit, shit. I need help" he shouted and soon Vista appeared. "Take her to the infirmary now. You, cover them." he began to give orders almost blindly. "I'm going after Marco."

"Ace…" your voice almost trailed off as you called him, making the fire fist even more desperate.

"Save your strength. I need you and my nephew to be okay." he asked, seeing you wince in pain. "Go, now!"

Marco took a few seconds to process what Ace was trying to say. When the information made sense to him, the blue flames disappeared from his body as he crossed the ship, knocking down anyone in front of him.

"What happened?" he asked, crossing the infirmary door, seeing two crew partners on top of your body.

"One shot in the left thigh, another in the torso, right side of her belly." Vista listed as Marco helped contain the blood. "Marco, I think she lost a lot of blood, I don't know if…"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Marco murmured, letting his flames try to help you heal. "Everyone out, you two make sure no one comes in here. Ace, you need to go too, your strength will be useful there."

The three left without complaining, leaving your body unconscious and Marco on the verge of collapse. His flames never stopped engulfing you, as he connected you to a heart monitor and pressed another to your belly. While he applied serum with some stabilizers, while he prayed to any god that could help you at that moment. He was reluctant to look at the two monitors, while the one for your heart showed activity, the one for your little baby just had a continuous flat line. And it remained like that until the sun invaded the ward and the door creaked.

"Son?" Whitebeard's voice echoed and if he turned back, Marco could see his companions outside, waiting for some news. "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's healthy for you or her for you to wear yourself out like this. She's going to need you to get through this."

"No Pops." Marco grunted, feeling his eyes burning. "I can't let that happen."

"Unfortunately, it has already happened." the captain's hand found Marco's shoulder. The blue flames were already much weaker than when he started. "She'll understand."

The serene expression on your face as you slept, not knowing that the little child you were waiting for was no longer between you was enough to destroy the little strength that Marco still had. The cry of the phoenix echoed throughout Moby Dick.

Just the vague memory of that night brought tears to Marco's eyes and thinking that you had relived that hurt him, once again he wasn't there to defend you.

"Sweetheart…" he hugged you tightly, suppressing your sobs. "Never say that again. It wasn't your fault."

"But, Marco."

"It was not your fault yoi" he pointed out, holding your face between his hands. "I'm sorry you saw these children suffer, I'm sorry you had to save them."

"I just wish it would stop hurting someday." you murmured, allowing yourself to be trapped in his arms. "This bloodbath didn't make me feel any better. I just needed to get that feeling out of me."

"Unfortunately, we have to live with this, okay? One day at a time yoi."

"One day at a time." you replied and allowed yourself to be guided to the bed.

Marco placed you lying on his body, the blue flames shone on his skin and removed any trace of physical pain that your body still had. It only took a few minutes and a few sobs of excessive crying for you to fall asleep. Marco knew that you both still had a long life ahead of you, that one day there would probably be little versions of you running around the ship and bringing joy to old Whitebeard, who had been excited about the idea of ​​being a grandfather. They were distant plans, but Marco still had the luxury of dreaming about them.

When your eyes opened again, it was already dawn and Marco's side of the bed was empty. Despite Marco's little help the night before, your body still hurt and you could feel your face swollen. After properly waking up, you found him sitting with other commanders, talking and eating.

"Our fragile and sweet little dove has arrived." Thatch said in a teasing tone, as you bent down to give Marco a small kiss on the cheek.

"No more than your ego or your forelock." you retorted, earning laughter from the entire table, include Thatch.

"Everything okay, dovey?"

"Like you said…" you let your head rest on his shoulder. "One day at a time."

[vividfae]

About My Document...

Hey. It's been a minute. I know that I have said over & over again that I'm not going to keep posting about the situation. I plan to hold true to that. But understand that it has been a very long & difficult road & I've been spending a lot of time reflecting & trying my best to heal. Part of that means seeking closure & regaining my autonomy.

Over a year ago now I wrote & published a document going over my suicide attempt from the preceding year & what I felt the culpability my group of friends had in the circumstances that led to it. Though my relationships with Zena & Poppy had ended, I initially stuck by that document, partially because I value principles & partially because I hadn't really begun to process anything.

Given new information, a lot of reprocessing, & a lot of recontextualizing events, I can no longer in good conscience completely stand by that document or the video that I published going over it.

A Brief History

Before I explain my new stances, I need to summarize what happened.

Italics represent the story as I told it in my doc, which is representative of the way I was made to think about things after the fact. Regular text is just me trying to tell the story of what happened with as little editorializing as possible.

In May 2023 I attempted suicide. There was a wealth of reasons at the time that pushed me to this place but central among them were my fears of abandonment & anxieties in my relationships due to an at the time untreated BPD spiral. I ended up in the hospital for a little under a week. At the time, I was friends with a group of people who had been splitting time between two discord servers, my personal friend server The Catgirl Cafe, & Zena & Poppy's Foundation server. There were a lot of things that contributed to my mental state. My relationships with Zena & Poppy were rocky (Zena had even broken up with me a couple weeks before my attempt), there was an incident several months earlier with one of my former friends that I'd classify as a form of sexual assault that I never really addressed or told anyone about, & both servers were developing really toxic atmosphere in their own ways.

Due to the group of friends that were in the Cafe egging on a lot of negative thinking towards my relationships with Zena & Poppy & not really taking much care to actually provide much in the way of support, my mental state began to collapse as I felt there was no hope because I couldn't see a way to fix things & my friends were pushing me to think more & more negatively about the situation.

When I made my attempt, I made some concerning posts on twitter before shutting my phone down & driving from Michigan where I had been staying to a place in Indiana where I made my attempt. The Cafe group found my family & contacted them, I was found & prevented from succeeding, & went to the hospital later that night.

My friends mishandled my attempt because instead of contacting the people who were closest in proximity to me & had resources to get me help, Poppy & Zena, they spent time searching for my family without any definitive hope of success, leading to a large chance of me not being found. Instead, they only lucked into finding my family & thus being responsible for me being found.

Amendments, Clarifications

Being out of the Foundation & away from Z&P has given me a lot of ability to process everything that I went through. I'm not going to go line by line, but I need to make some amendments.

For starters, I've privated my video. Idk if my original doc is still up, but as soon as I find it I'm going to be removing it as well, as I no longer fully stand by it. It took a lot of time reprocessing & deprogramming, but I have been able to better understand the situation, it's complexities, & most importantly, how I was being manipulated.

One thing I mentioned was how my former group of friends handled the attempt & finding me. This group consisted of people I knew as Paco, Aztec, Ghost, & Rayne (Ghost is the only member of that group I am still on good terms with).

I do not currently & do not remember if I ever did have Rayne or Aztec's messages with Zena & Poppy from this time. I only saw Poppy's DM's with Paco & the group DMs between Ghost, Zena, & Poppy, as well as the posts in the Cafe. So I need to stress that I am working on those DMs/posts, the claims made by Rayne as to her actions, & the claims made by Poppy & Zena as to the other's actions.

I do not know for sure how much of an attempt was made to reach them. I don't know if it matters honestly. I know Paco's message to Poppy from the night before still sticks with me as being woefully inadequate for the severity of the situation. I know that Poppy & Zena ignoring messages from everyone including myself made the situation much worse than it should have been. I know that everyone had information that should have led them to act quicker. But I also know that I made mistakes & refused to take care of myself, make boundaries, or listen to those around me.

Ultimately, based solely on the way Zena & Poppy were acting - their general distancing from & disinterest in me, their consistent lack of responsiveness to messages from anyone (IIRC Rayne, a person they called a close friend, invited to their house, & offered to host as a streamer on their site, had been ignored by both of them for months up to this point), & their defensiveness whenever anyone tried to work out these issues with them - make it perfectly clear that no one had any reason to trust their ability to act quickly or to take the situation seriously.

Especially because they didn't.

They treated me like I was just attention seeking & faking it. They made me feel guilty for putting them through the inconvenience of dealing with me. They neglected our relationships & refused to hear any conversations about it until my mental state was so fucked I felt I had no other way out. And because my friends weren't experienced enough to know that it's not always a good idea to just assert to an abuse victim that they're being abused, lest they sink deeper into the situation as a defense mechanism, the attempts at getting me to realize what was happening only served to worsen the spiraling. I don't say that to blame them for trying, it's just my read of what happened based on my processing.

What I Stand By

This isn't a full retraction. There are things in that document that are true or are accurate representations of my feelings on things.

The SA Allegation

I know most will never believe me, but I didn't make up my story regarding one of the members of the Cafe. That said... I do regret including it. I went back & forth on it for a while. A friend of mine suggested that it could be therapuetic to include it but cautioned me as well. Poppy pushed me to include it in calls we'd had, despite my insistence that it not be used as a way to attack anyone.

I wasn't trying to avoid talking about it (& to be clear I am glad that I'm no longer keeping it bottled up) but I never wanted it to be a thing used against anyone. Had I known that one side was going to weaponize the drama sphere to relentlessly bully me for speaking about it & use frankly concerning rhetoric to try & dismiss me & that the other was going to weaponize it to paint someone who did something really inappropriate due to messy boundaries, lacking/miscommunication, & an admittedly weird social atmosphere as a rapist... I'd have just stayed quiet or at most kept it between me & an IRL friend I trust. While I do believe that it contributed to my overall mental state, it was Poppy & Zena who ultimately placed the suggestion with me that it was one of the top contributing factors & basically responsible for my attempt.

I don't say this to ask for sympathy. I don't need or want people to think about this in any particular way. I don't want anything from anyone other than I want people to leave that person alone. They are not a rapist, or a sexual predator, or anything like that. They did a thing that I would categorically classify as an instance of sexual assault, & I will stand by that definition, but goddamn it I never wanted anyone to go after them for it or go any further than the acknowledgement. I just want people to believe me, nothing more. I don't want anything to be done about it. I just want to stop being treated like I faked it & I want to stop being made fun of for it.

I'm so sorry that I ever allowed it to go unchecked that the rapist branding was ever being applied to them for that. Please leave them alone.

The Weird Social Atmosphere

We really did have a strange social atmosphere where a ton of things were normalized that never should have been. The sexually charged chats & the meangirling that led to cliquey behavior were all fairly common in both servers & I reflect on it as being inappropriate & not something I wish to recreate.

My Treatment

I was treated like utter dogshit during all of this. From before the document's publication all the way until now, I feel that my treatment was unjust for the circumstances I was put in. I did say & do some horrible things. And I will apologize to the people I hurt should they ask me to. But I was used by everyone in this. As a shield by Zena & Poppy & as a punching bag by everyone else.

It isn't right. I didn't deserve any of that. For all the harm that I did, jesus christ I didn't deserve to be treated that way.

TL;DR

I have privated my video & will be removing my document regarding my attempt because, while I stand by the following elements of it:

- The social atmosphere was kind of toxic & weird

- I never made up the event I classify as SA (though I never wanted it to be used as a bludgeon or used to brand the other party as a rapist like Poppy did)

- I was treated like garbage unjustly from the anti Z&P crowd

...the document is built upon notions that were fed to me by Zena & Poppy because I didn't have all of the information & wasn't in a headspace to really question their framing of things, & because the attempts my former social group made to pull me out weren't effective to where I was in the process of it all, I was pushed further towards them out of fear & insecurity. It is for these reasons that I am retracting the document as a unit while clarifying & standing by the true statements or accurate reflections of my feelings it contained.

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

Diavolo and Male MC Fic: The Perfect Christmas Gift for a Butler

The streets of the Devildom were unusually festive, lined with glowing lights and snow-like crystals that floated softly through the air. Christmas in the Devildom was always a peculiar mix of earthly tradition and demonic flair. MC strolled beside Diavolo, who looked unusually serious as they wandered through a marketplace bustling with vendors.

“Are you sure about this?” Diavolo asked for the fifth time, his golden eyes darting between booths selling enchanted trinkets, rare teas, and peculiar artifacts.

MC smiled patiently. “Of course. Barbatos deserves a thoughtful gift, and who better to pick it out than you?”

Diavolo’s expression softened, but doubt lingered. “Barbatos does so much for me. He keeps the castle running, manages time itself, and ensures I don’t collapse under the weight of my duties. But I’ve never really… thanked him properly. How do you find a gift for someone who seems to already have everything?”

MC stopped, resting a hand on Diavolo’s arm to make him pause. “It’s not about finding something he needs. It’s about finding something that shows how much you care.”

Diavolo tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right. But I’ve never been good at expressing things like this. It’s easier to command armies or broker peace between realms than to tell someone how much they mean to me.”

MC chuckled. “Barbatos isn’t just your butler, you know. He’s more than that to you.”

Diavolo blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” MC said gently. “He’s been by your side for centuries, hasn’t he? He’s been your guide, your confidant, and even your protector. Barbatos is like… a father figure to you.”

Diavolo’s steps faltered, and he stared at MC, his expression unreadable. For a moment, MC worried he’d overstepped, but then Diavolo’s gaze softened, tinged with a bittersweet realization.

“I suppose you’re right,” Diavolo murmured, almost to himself. “I’ve always seen Barbatos as someone I can rely on, someone who’s always there. But I’ve never stopped to think about what that truly means.”

MC smiled encouragingly. “This gift is your chance to show him that you see it now. That you appreciate him for everything he’s done for you—not as a butler, but as someone who cares about you deeply.”

Diavolo nodded slowly, his resolve strengthening. “You’re right, MC. Barbatos deserves to know how much he means to me.”

The two resumed their search, and after some deliberation, they stopped at a quaint booth filled with handmade items. Diavolo’s gaze landed on a beautiful tea set, intricately designed with celestial patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light. “He loves tea,” Diavolo said softly, lifting one of the cups to examine it. “He always says it’s the one thing that helps him unwind, even if only for a moment.”

MC grinned. “It’s perfect. You could pair it with a heartfelt letter. Tell him how much he means to you, in your own words.”

Diavolo hesitated for a moment, then smiled, his expression warm. “You always know how to help me, MC. Thank you.”

Later that evening, Diavolo presented Barbatos with the gift in the castle’s cozy sitting room. The butler, ever composed, accepted the tea set with his usual grace, but when Diavolo handed him the letter, his hands lingered on it for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ve never been good with words,” Diavolo admitted, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “But I hope this will convey how much you mean to me, Barbatos. Not just as my butler, but as someone who’s been like a father to me.”

For a fleeting moment, Barbatos’s calm demeanor wavered. His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and he inclined his head. “Thank you, my Lord. It is an honor to serve you, but even more so to know you hold me in such regard.”

As MC watched the exchange from the doorway, he couldn’t help but smile. It was a quiet, unspoken moment of warmth, but one that spoke volumes.

And for the first time, the Devildom felt a little more like home.

[starzzmissthesun]

The OC long post is here!!!!

Ok, to start this off, their story isn't completely worked out yet, but all of the important stuff is! Also, big thanks to @rowses and @thebearsthings for brainstorming with me!=DDD Also, they are the BIGGEST unreliable narrator, seeing as they barely remember their past, and have some perception vs reality issues. Im referring to my character as The Vampire(though they are not the only one) and the one who turned them and was their partner Their Lover. This is cause we dont know their names!! Also im referring to them both in gender neutral terms because The Vampire doesnt know much about Their Lover(nothing at all really) and they don't know that about themself(which ill get into later)

This will have talk of graphic violence and cuts/blood, and the vampirism is sort of a metaphor for sexual assault.

First and foremost, they are a vampire who travels as a bounty hunter. They get paid for killing the person, and that's how they feed. They are from the south, no particular time period, just before a time of internet. In being turned, they lost and forgot their entire identity, their name, gender, memories, and their lover, The reasons why will all be explained throughout. Bottom line, they're a mystery to themself.

Lets talk about the before, and how they got turned. For the years before, they were living in this beautiful Victorian home with their lover, that their lover "inherited" from distant relatives. In their mind, this relationship was perfect; soft touches, watching the sunset, kisses before a goodbye. (It was not, as a friend said "toxic yaoi (gender neutral)") Then, a kiss on the neck turned to teeth sunk deep. They started to feel drowsy, dizzy. (ill make a post about how i think vampires work if you want) They collapse to the floor as blood starts running down and their lover has betrayed them, after all this time. They almost jump to see if their lover is okay when they cut deep into their own wrist, but stops when the blood from that wrist is drained into their own mouth. They wake up in the dark, everything's too loud. They are covered in blood and alone. Alone in their own mind, too. As they walk around trying to figure out anything, they pick up notepads with dates written down and shorthand notes, little trinkets scattered around the house, a picture of them and their lover (?) but their faces are turned away. They run to find the closest mirror, but nobodies in it, nothings there. When they decide to leave the house, they stop in the pool of blood to see a ring sitting in the middle, the same on their lovers hand in the picture.

This is the only finished art I have of them rn->

This is right after they were bit, that's their lover in the mirror (not really there obviously). They wake up with bleached hair, but as time goes on they try to go to their natural colour in hopes of being themselves, but really get further always from their starting point. They do this with a lot of the "clues" they were given, they just take them so wrong and end up even more unhappy. They can't even look in a mirror to see them self, or get close enough to ask someone.

They figure out how being a vampire works, need to eat so they bounty hunt for money for places to stay in, the cowboy gettup allows them to cover their skin in the harsh sun. They never stop moving, they just keep going and going. They usually take cases that might lead them to their lover. They just want to know. They need to know why they would turn them into this, why they would throw away their lives together, why they would leave, what were they like, what The Vampire was like. They can not and will never be able to know more about themself because they will always be looking outwardly and in the past. They mourn their old self and idolize them, want to be them. Their loss of self will never be gained back, for they will never think "but what do i wanna be called, what gender do i feel like, what hair do i want to have?" because they are too busy looking for clues of what they used to be, what theyre "supposed" to be. They look at themself from before as a cookie cutter they must fit into.

They will never be able to have a happy ending for this reason, they are a tragedy. They look for their lost lover in others, every relationship they get into ends on strange terms and each is wildly different. They are somewhere else, always kind of absent for these people. They try so hard to be normal, to find these relationships, but there's always an ever present "What if?" What if my lover liked this? What if I wore my hair like that? What if they also drank their coffee this way? What if x kind of person was my type? What if I dressed this way? They will always be dissatisfied, because in their story (not the aus ill probably make for character exploration:\) they never find their lover, they never find out what they used to be like, or any of their history outside of nightmares and deja vu.

They travel the land, hoping motel to motel, kill to kill, lover to lover, NEVER in relief, always under tension. They feel their past self hovering behind them guarding, watching, judging. The only thing pushing them forward is the hope that theyll one day find Their Lover. When times get tough, they look to that same ring that left a permanent bruise on them, being twirled between their fingers.

Gonna definitely add to this later, and PLEASE ask questions or comments or anything, they drive me up the walls!!!!!!!