#you do not understand the suffering I went through just to put in the entire title

[mossify]

Whoever did this to the Genius page for Mr. Capgras Encounters A Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia/Pareidolia (As A Direct Form Of Trauma To The Fusiform Gyrus) by Will Wood and the Tapeworms, I fucking love you and hate you at the same time. (platonic) (joking)

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Start of Time

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, panic attack, almost fainting, fluff at the end

Summary: Hotch is the only parent you have left, so you’re a bit overprotective of him. When he comes up with a plan to stop an unsub, you’re the only one who’s not on board.

Square Filled: fainting for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: this fic is based on the song "Start of Time" by Gabrielle Aplin. I also pulled inspiration from that scene in Teen Wolf where Lydia kissed Stiles for the first time since he was having a panic attack. You all know the scene.

x

“You’re kidding, right?” You look at Rossi. “Is he kidding? Did I hear him right?”

“No, you heard it right,” Hotch sighs.

“No, you’re not going to do that. End of discussion. You’re not going to put your life on the line for some psychopath.”

“You have no authority over me.”

“That’s bullshit.”

You slam your hands on the table and leave the briefing room to calm yourself down. Spencer watches you leave with a frown, itching to go after you to comfort you.

“Y/N!” Hotch calls after you, but you ignore him.

“I’ll go after her,” Spencer says and leaves the briefing room.

Hotch looks at Rossi who just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. You said it was fine to have your daughter on the team.”

You’d normally not go after Hotch’s throat like that but he’s the only parent you have left since your mother died a few years ago. Anything that puts his life on the line, you immediately object to. He understands you’re looking out for him but he has a job to do. You knew this when you signed up to be in the FBI academy.

You walk into the bathroom and turn the faucet on to splash some water on your face. The thought of your dad going in to face off against a psychopath and dying makes your heart race and sweat build up on your neck. You look around the empty bathroom and squeeze your eyes shut tightly to ward off the panic attack.

The door opens and Spencer walks in without a word. He immediately pulls you into a hug that slows your racing heart. He calms you down before the panic attack can get too far, and you hug Spencer back. He rubs your back and sighs knowing all you’re ever going to see him as is a friend. He likes you a lot but you haven’t given him any indication that you like him back, so he’s kept his feelings for you a secret. The last thing he’s going to do is tell you how he feels, especially not now when all you’re worried about is your dad.

“Sorry,” you whisper and pull away from him.

“Don’t ever be sorry.”

“You have to help me, Spencer. He wants to go inside that bank alone. Make him change his mind.”

“Y/N…”

“Patrick is one of the worst unsubs we’ve ever dealt with. He kills for fun, for sport. If my dad goes in there alone, he’ll kill him. He’s my only family, Spencer. Make him change his mind.”

“I know.” Spencer sighs. “I can’t promise anything but there might be another way to get to Patrick.”

Patrick has the same tragic backstory as all the other unsubs, and he’s hellbent on making humanity suffer for what he went through. He has so much anger for humans that he’s taking out anyone and everyone. He went to rob a bank to fund his trip across the pond, and he’s taken the entire bank hostage. The only reason he hasn’t killed them all is because they might be the key to getting him out of there alive.

Your job is to get the hostages out safely before SWAT can move in on Patrick. Hotch wants to go in and negotiate with Patrick into letting the hostages go, but you can’t fathom the idea of him going in there with someone like Patrick. SWAT and local police already have the streets blocked off to prevent anyone else from getting hurt.

“Garcia, were you able to get the blueprints of the bank?” Hotch asks when the team arrives.

“Yes, and because there are the sewers below it, I also got the layout for that as well. It might be your only way into the bank.”

She lays out the blueprints on the hood of the police car and Derek traces the pipes from the bank to a manhole cover that’s a block away with his finger.

“We can get into the bank through here. Looks like there is a gate blocking the way in, so we’ll have to break it. We’ll need someone on the inside to distract him so he doesn’t hear us.”

“Alright, Morgan, take Prentiss and three officers with you through the sewers. Wait for my word.”

They leave immediately, and Spencer looks at you in worry.

“Who is going to go inside and distract?”

“I don’t know,” Hotch answers.

He and Rossi step off to the side, and you look at the bank in concern.

“It’s going to be okay,” Spencer comforts you.

“I hope so. Sometimes I wonder if it was right for me to take this job.”

“What do you mean?”

“After my mom died, my dad got overprotective of me. He kept warning me of the dangers of this world. I wanted to help people like him, and the academy seemed like the right thing to do. My dad is the Unit Chief of the BAU. That had some pull in the academy. I was looking at a job upstate as an officer, but then a spot opened on the team. I wanted to be closer to my dad so I took the job. Now, I see the horrors of this job and every opportunity to lose him. He’s the best dad I could ask for. I don’t think I could bear losing him to someone like Patrick.”

Spencer pulls you in for a hug and rubs your back.

“That won’t happen.”

You look at the bank once more and your face is twisted in horror. Your dad is walking toward the bank’s front doors… alone.

“Dad!” You push Spencer away and start to run toward him. However, arms wrap around your waist to prevent you from following him. “No, let me go! Dad! Dad, please don’t go!”

Your dad disappears inside the bank, and you break down in tears. Rossi keeps his arms around you until he knows you’re not going to run after him. You step back from Rossi as a panic attack hits you in the face. Suddenly, you can’t breathe and your heart is beating too fast for you to keep up with.

“You need to calm down, Y/N,” Spencer says.

“I… can’t… I… Da…”

Hot tears are running down your cheeks, and you start hyperventilating at the thought of your dad dying right now. You're gonna faint.

“Kid, get her to calm down,” Rossi says.

Spencer doesn’t think twice about this. He grabs you and plants his lips over yours. Your eyes widen in shock but you close them once you feel how natural it is to kiss Spencer. Your heart rate slows down, your head becomes clear, and you relax against Spencer’s body. He pulls away from you but stays close enough so that the only thing you see is him.

His honey-brown eyes are warm and comforting, and his lips are soft and swollen from the kiss. Suddenly, you hear gunshots go off inside the bank, and that breaks you out of your trance. You push Spencer away from you and book it toward the bank without a second thought. This time, no one holds you back.

The hostages are in the corner with the three officers, Patrick is lying on the ground bleeding from a gunshot wound on his shoulder, and all three BAU agents are standing above him with their guns on him. Most importantly, your dad is alive and well. You immediately run over to your dad and hug him, thankful that he survived this.

“I was always going to be fine, Y/N.”

“I thought I lost you,” you cry.

“I’m right here.”

Patrick is arrested, the hostages are saved, and no one got hurt. Now that you’re back at the BAU, you have time to think about what Spencer did to you. Spencer is at his desk finishing some paperwork when you approach him from behind.

“Hey, Spencer.”

He turns around and smiles when he sees you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good now. Thank you for…”

You can’t finish your sentence but Spencer knows what you’re saying.

“Yeah, anytime,” he nods.

“You kissed me.”

“I know. I was there.”

“There are other ways to stop a panic attack. Why did you kiss me?”

“I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack so when I kissed you, you held your breath.”

“I did?” you whisper.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Was that the only reason you kissed me?”

Spencer opens his mouth to answer but decides against what he really wants to say. “Yes.”

Your face falls in disappointment but you bounce back quickly in hopes he didn’t see it.

“Oh, well, thank you.”

You pass by him to walk away when he grabs your hand. He sees the disappointment, and he takes that as his sign. He stands and pulls you closer to him, and you look into his eyes hopefully.

“That wasn’t the only reason. I like you a lot.”

You smile. “Well, I like you a lot.”

“I know this Indian place with really good food. Want to get dinner with me?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Hotch stands by his window and watches everyone work. He sees you and Spencer by his desk, and he definitely sees the smile on your face. Spencer grabs your hand and leaves with you, and Hotch smiles. Spencer is a good guy, and you’d do well with someone like him.

x

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[astrasng]

i love you, i'm sorry || n.j

just to think about jaemin calming you down after you had a fight with your parents means everything to you. you knew he would listen to you and comfort you, he always does, but now he really carved himself into your heart.

you feel like you could spend your entire life with him, even if it means doing nothing.

because the minute you break down in your old room, crying so hard you can't even take a breath makes you dizzy, immediately reaching for your phone at 3 AM.you know jaemin works until late night, sometimes at night as being an idol. and you hate calling him or rather bothering him. So you just look at your phone screen with teary eyes, the sentences your mother said to your face just minutes ago replays in your mind, inevitably making you cry more. 

“And how long do you think he stays with you? He’s an idol, basically he has no time for you so why do you waste your time on him?” 

“He’s going to leave you sooner or later. Finds someone more available.” 

you shouldn’t be surprised, your parents never approved of your relationship with jaemin, even though it’s been months now that you two are together. It occurred to your mind that what if he finds someone better? after all, why would he be with you particularly?but whenever these questions popped into your mind, jaemin made sure they all went away. but can you blame yourself? He’s everything a girl can ask for. and you don’t feel like your parents will ever understand how he treats you, even though he’s an idol. 

are you home?

the message is sent by the time you realize what you did, burying your face in your hands. there’s a tight knot in your stomach that wants to pop out, the nerves killing you just by staying in the same house as your parents. right now, all you want to do is leave and escape in his arms. you wanted to visit your parents over the weekend, telling them about stories and how everything is going on in your life since you moved out, but alas, it didn’t happen the way you wanted. all you wanted was that your parents finally let him in their lives too, just as you did. 

just got home, everything alright baby?

the loud ping snaps your head up and as you scan over his reply, you can feel a heavy rock lifted up from your chest. 

I really need you. I know that you’re working tomorrow too but can i come over?

with a sigh you wait for his answer, going through all the possibilities if he says no. then you would just have to suffer through your emotions, maybe calm yourself down with a hot bath? or watching something you like?

of course honey. don’t worry about work, i’ll handle it. 

with a weak smile you reply - i’ll be there in a few.

you hear another ping after you put down your phone, but you don’t bother to check it, packing immediately so you can leave early. 

and that’s what happened. with a single bag in your hand you slip out the house, your parents probably long asleep after your fight. You don’t want to think about it again. you just want jaemin.

and in no time, you find yourself in front of his door, your hand lifting up to knock but he’s already opening the door for you. as you take in his presence you realize you're okay now, you’re with him. nobody can take away that. for now at least.

jaemin looks at you with worry in his eyes as he sees your puffy red eyes, his hands grabbing your cheeks softly when he sees you getting teary again. 

what’s wrong baby? did someone hurt you? his voice rings in your ears like smooth honey, your eyes searching for his as he scans your face. hmm? tell me my love,, he swipes the tear away, tilting his down to be eye level. 

I missed you.

two strong arms wrap around your waist, squeezing your bodies together as jaemin softly takes steps further back into his apartment, eventually closing the door behind him when you bury your face into his neck. 

you can feel that he just took a shower, his soft clothes touching your skin brings you comfort along with the smell of his shampoo. 

my love, i missed you more than anything. 

and you can no longer hold your tears back, you let yourself sob in his arms as he caresses your waist, squeezing his eyes shut as jaemin hears your cries next to his ear, his own heart breaking along with yours. 

he knows you often have problems with your parents, and as you told him earlier today that you went out to have dinner with them, he only assumes you’re crying because of that. but he doesn’t bring it up, 

he instead kisses away your crystal tears on your pink cheeks, his hands never leaving your cheeks and hair, swiping it back to see more of you.

what can i do to make you forget about it?

jaemin asks as he looks deep into your eyes, every emotion swimming in his orbs like he wants to take away your pain and suffering. and he really does too. It pains him to see you like this. It wasn't the first time you ran into his arms when you couldn't handle your emotions well, and it’s not the last either. he wants to adopt everything you feel into his body and mind, easing you up this way. 

you blink up at him, focusing on his eyes before you look down at his lips. kiss me,,

jaemin kisses you softly, his warm lips melting into yours as he keeps his hand on the side of your face, bringing you even closer. your grip on his shirt thightens, basically wanting to hide away from everyone with jaemin. but as he continues to kiss you, now deepening the kiss when you lean more forward you have to stay in the present. You have to ease your stress, and you know jaemin is the one who will catch all of your worries. 

your tongue swipes slightly over his bottom lip, initiating something that never happened before. as much as he doesn’t want to, jaemin stops, pulling further away to lock eyes with you. are you sure you want this? he softly spoke, not wanting to scare you away when another tear rolls down your face. with a simple nod you bring him back down, your lips immediately attaching to his soft ones, making jaemin sigh into the kiss. 

your hands snake up into his hair, playing with the hair at his nape as you take steps further back into the apartment, knowing the sketches of his apartment blindly. jaemin doesn’t waste any other time, picking you up ins his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you further to is bedroom. 

the heavy tension lingers in the air when he softly places you on the fresh sheets, skin burning when he caresses your arms up and down to calm you down. tears seem to stop by his magic, replaced with lust and raw emotions in your eyes when you pull away from the kiss, scanning his beautifully carved face. a small smile appears on your face when you lift your hand to caress his face now, thinking about how lucky you are to have him. 

jaemin blinks at you softly, his smile sending you butterflies in your whole body as he silently says ‘s okay, i got you now. 

feather- like kisses pains your skin on your neck as he moves further down, scrunching up your shirt that gets in his way to kiss your skin, eventually taking it off completely of you. looking down at him, he’s already situated between your legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you close to him. jaemin softly kisses the skin on your thighs, his own warm breath tickling you slightly as he buries himself between them. you hands snake into his hair again, massaging his scalp when he nudges your core slightly with his nose, making you groan out.

the room feels heavy as you and jaemin can’t seem to stop groaning and moaning, his mouth now latched onto your sopping cunt the minute he pulled your shorts down. butterflies erupt in your stomach whenever you look down, seeing his broad shoulders moving under your calves with anticipation. 

the feeling of his tongue moving in and out inside you, his finger circling around your clit makes you dizzy, unable not to throw your head back while letting out a low moan. as you curse into the thick air, jaemin can’t seem to stop his movements, now his own hip rutting against the sheets to ease his own pain. he can feel you nearing your orgasm as you take the air in quicker, your thighs shaking around his head. jaemin,,please, i need you-

you let out another moan as you come around his digits, throwing your head back on the pillow as you cry out his name like a mantra. he can’t stop himself as he continues to lap at your juices, having every single drop until you cry out again and bring his face up to kiss him hardly, and deeply. 

i was thinking about you all day darling,

jaemin says before he deepens the kiss, now propped up above you before pulling you on his lap, sitting up fully against him. With a whine you kiss him back, your tongues colliding clumsily when he pulls your hips closer to his , feeling his wet cock between your bodies. his hand sneaks up behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down on the bed as he pulls back to admire your hazed look. as he taps your hips you lift them up, feeling him sliding his cock between your folds slowly, moaning against your chest as he dips his member deeper into you, your walls squeezing around him because of the stretch. ‘’s so tight,,,fuck baby-

a whine flies past your lips as he finally bottoms out, practically feeling himself finally melting into you when you scratch his back slowly, bringing your nails up on his skin. pleas echos around the room as he thrusts up deep inside you over and over again desperately, like he wants to fuck all of your problems out of you - if thats even possible.

your heart overflowing with emotions you let out a moan, grabbing jaemin’s face to make him look at you, up into your eyes, the ones where he sees the future ahead of him with you. and only you. 

jaem,,i think i’m-

he knows.he wraps his arms around your naked body and thrusts up into you deeply.

I know sweetheart, let it all out. he groans and kisses your collarbone softly.

and you do. You can’t stop the tears rolling down your cheeks as jaemin thrusts up into you again, panting against your neck as you moan the words out desperately into his ear. it’s all too much, your hands move to grip his hair as your hips are unable to stop moving against his.

tell me you love me,

with one final thrust, he paints your walls with white drops of cum, you squeezing him tightly in every way, your arms never letting go of his shoulders. he doesn’t either, his once shut eyes now scanning your glistening one, the light from outside his living room the only thing illuminating the both of you, making you look like a goddess with ruined makeup and messy hair just for him. jaemin can’t take his eyes off of your beauty, kissing the corner of your mouth, slowly peppering kisses all over your face to calm your beating heart with reassurance. 

then he finally says,,

my love is yours, y/n. my heart belongs to you.

and jaemin knew that in that moment, it was the last time when you escaped in his arms.

this is a drabble that i wanted to write out, it's not proofread so i'm sorry if something is rushed or doesn't make sense.

reblogging and feedback is appreciated! ♡

[imaginesforeons]

Bubble and Foam(Yandere!Nanami x Reader)

~You and Nanami take a bath~

CW: Past kidnapping. Yandere Nanami. Forced nudity but not really NSFW.

Word Count: 1,347

Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!

Buy me a coffee?

.-.-.

There used to be, you think, something calming about the sound of water lapping at the sides of a tub. The way the mirror and windows would fog, until your reflection was only a blob of color through the glass was delightfully anonymous, and you used to draw little flowers in the corners of the mirror when you were done bathing. The steamed room felt nice on your skin, and you always reached a light doze, warm and relaxed as you were in a tub with essential oils or salts or mountains of pearlescent bubbles. It was a private place, a slice of the world set aside just for you, and you treasured it.

There used to be something calming about it. But things changed.

Now you stood, shivering and bare except for a towel that was much too short wrapped tightly around you, nothing inside you feeling calm. It was easier, you knew, if you went along with the stereotypical domesticity that Nanami seemed to crave. It took you a while to understand, but when you realized and started treating him more like a husband than a man who probably suffered from insanity, he became calmer, smoother, like a rock polished of all its edges. Instead of hiding yourself away when he came home from whatever made him look beat up and bloody, you’d make him dinner. When you’d wake up to an empty bed, Nanami already long gone, you’d make it instead of trashing the room. You even tried to greet him at the door at the end of his workday, shyly pressing a kiss to his cheek, yet leaning back with a hammering heart whenever he seemed to want more.

You did this, because in return he became softer. He became- not like a husband, exactly, but a prison gaurd with his favorite prisoner. With his supervision, you were allowed to watch tv. You could request books or magazines from him, and he’d deliver. Once, you were even allowed to go to a park by his house, even though the entire time you were outside his arm stayed wrapped posessively around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly over your hip bone. It was a precarious balance of risk and reward, but as you stared at the tub, stomach sinking ever lower, you weren’t sure this risk was worth it.

This was too far.

“I can’t do it,” you said, staring at the slowly filling tub in front of you with terror. “This is too much.”

Nanami dipped his hand in the water, moving it back and forth, eyes unreadable behind his glinting glasses. “It’s just a bath. Nothing else.”

He was wrong, because it definitely was something more. Nanami had seen you in your underwear once, but only because you needed help changing the first night he took you, as you had a bad reaction to whatever drugs he used for sedation. He had never seen you naked. You and he had never, to put it bluntly, had sex. The most romantic thing he had done was kiss you on the lips, and both times you had fled to your shared room for the rest of the night. The only sleeping together you and Nanami did was sleeping in the most literal sense; you shared a bed, and only because Nanami insisted on it.

“We’re not having sex,” you blurted, then immediately felt your body go hot with embarrassment. It wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin; you’d had sex before, but it was never with a man who had kidnapped you. It was never with someone as strong as Nanami, who you had seen punch a hole through a metal door and come out of it with not even bruised knuckles. Watching the muscles in his arm flex as he stirred the water, you felt your mouth dry, and your hands tightined the grip they had on your towel.

“No,” Nanami said flatly, making you feel more ridiculous than ever. “We’re not having sex.”

He turned off the water, and the silence of the bathroom was more deafening than anything you could have imagined. The tub sat full, yet empty of people, like it was taunting you. Hadn’t Nanami just turned on the water? When had it have the time to fill up so quickly?

“Let me get in first,” you begged. “Please?”

Nanami’s brows rose. “I thought you would have been more against this.”

“I am!” you exclaimed. “It’s just that…” It’s just that you’d like to get in first and fast, so he’d barely have that chance to see you. Nanami had put some type of salt in the water, which made the room fill with the scent of lavender and gave a slight cloudyness to the quality of the water. Combined with the height of the water, it should be just enough to hide everything important from the towering man in front of you.

“...maybe you could turn around first?”

Nanami’s brows fell into a scowl, and he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes, of course. Turn my back on you, and allow you that chance to attack me. It’s only happened once, so why shouldn’t it happen again?”

“Only once! And that was weeks ago!” You waited in terse silence, watching for any reaction.

Nanami only crossed his arms over his bare chest, muscles bulging. He was in a towel too, but where yours covered you from collarbones to thighs, his only hung low on his hips, putting everything on display. Well, you thought, staring at the trail of dark blond curls starting at his belly button and trailing behind the towel, almost everything. How was he able to look so confident dressed in so little, while you felt like the world was collapsing in on you?

“I wouldn’t be able to do anything even if I wanted,” you tried. “There’s nothing in here for me to attack you with. So could you turn around for just a second? Please?”

Nanami sighed and shook his head, and just when you thought he was about to say no, he turned his back. You took this as your chance, shucking your towel and praying that he wouldn’t peek as you lunged into the steaming water, submerging yourself up to your neck. To your side, Nanami let out a grunt, and untied the towel, letting it fall to the ground, exposing his-

You jerked your head to the side, staring resolutely ahead. You didn’t move, not even when you heard Nanami step into the tub. When he settled, placing his legs so they were on either side of you, bracketing you in, your hands clenched.

Slowly, he slid an arm around you, ignoring the way you clung to the rim of the tub and pulling you against him with ease. You had never felt so much of his skin on yours, and you felt your pulse climb as he moved against you. His hand fell over your forehead and began to pull you back.

“Relax,” Nanami said. “Let me wash your hair.”

You forced yourself to stay still, resting against his chest as he cupped water over your head and hair. When you heard something click, you jumped, eyes shooting open only to see a bottle of shampoo. Nanami squeezed a fruity-scented dollop out, set the shampoo aside, then covered your eyes with his free hand. When you caught the hint and forced them shut again, he started moving strong fingers across your scalp, deliberate yet tender.

You stayed still against his chest, a heaviness overtaking you, and you fought back the drowsiness. As you did, Nanami worked his hands through your hair calmly, in little to no rush. He rinsed the suds from your hair, and placed a kiss at your temple before smoothing conditioner through your locks.

While he washed the conditioner from your hair, you sank into something resembling relaxation, and for a moment allowed yourself to pretend you were alone. The steady rise and fall of the chest behind you made it hard.

[andreawritesit]

shattered vows

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: Aizen x wife! reader

Format: Multi-chapter fic

Warnings: none for this chapter

PROLOGUE

Squad 5 was in shambles. Their captain had abandoned them and their lieutenant was currently fighting for her life in the medical room. The Shinigami were looking at each other, searching for answers that no one had. The entire Soul Society was suffering from the betrayal of the three captains. The Head Captain hadn’t spoken to anyone about the situation and that was adding to the panic. Captain Shunsui and Captain Ukitake were trying their best to keep the situation under control but it wasn’t enough. No one could understand how or why their captains would abandon them out of nowhere. But perhaps the one most affected by this betrayal was now sitting in the room of previous Squad 5 captain Sosuke Aizen. 

You were sitting at his desk, looking through the letter that apparently Aizen had written to Hinamori. How easily that poor girl had believed it and how easily he had made her distrust her childhood friend…

Aizen was always so convincing, charming, and charismatic. You knew better than anyone. In the 60 years of your marriage, you hadn’t once suspected him of harboring such evil inside his seemingly kind soul. To think that he had fooled you so easily made your blood boil. You picked up his pen and flung it at the wall. It shattered instantly and you wished you could shatter his heart just like that. The walls of this room reminded you of all the honey-laced words that venomous serpent had whispered to you, all the promises he had made with his false silver tongue, all the times you had poured your heart out to him, and all the times he had possibly fooled you using his Zanpakuto. You still couldn’t comprehend how he had managed to fool everyone for hundreds of years. Even Head Captain Yamamoto hadn’t suspected a thing. Your mind went back to the moment you had found his dead body pinned to the tower with his own Zanpakuto and the horror that you had felt in that moment; how easily you had believed that Ichimaru had killed your beloved and how stupid you felt when he was revealed to be in cahoots with your sweet liar of a husband. A knock on the door broke your train of thought. 

“Uh, is it a bad time?” A voice came from the other side and you immediately recognized it to be the Squad 13 captain. You closed the papers and got up to open the door for him. Letting him in, you looked outside – the sky was dark and silent. It seemed lifeless. Ukitake sat down near the desk and his eyes immediately went to the shattered pen and the spilled ink. 

“Whatever did the poor pen do? Its master is the culprit” he tried to joke but it only reminded you of Aizen which ruined your mood further. “My apologies, it’s not the right time to joke about that.” He followed up quickly, reading the expression on your face.

“Oh no, it’s alright. I’m just…upset.”

“That’s understandable. You have all the right to feel that way.”

“I still can’t comprehend how he could do such things… Tell me Ukitake, are they not suspecting me to be an accomplice? I am his wife after all.”

“No. Don’t worry. He made it pretty clear, didn’t he? He took his accomplices with him. You have nothing to worry about. No one will suspect you.”

You nodded your head and sat opposite him. He smiled warmly and put his hand forward. 

“I want you to promise something to me.” You raised an eyebrow at his words. “What?”

“That if Aizen ever reaches out to you, you’ll come straight to me. No one else. To me only.”

“I don’t think he will. If he wanted me by his side, he’d have asked me or straight up taken me with him. But if he ever does, I promise I’ll come straight to you.” You gave him your hand and sealed the promise. Ukitake looked around the room sadly, occasionally glancing at you. 

“Do you want to shift to another room by any chance? I understand that this room might hold memories related to Aizen and perhaps you don’t want to be around them?”

“Thank you for your kind offer but I’d rather stay here so I can always remember what he did. I have loved him more than anything and yet he deceived me. I’m sure in a moment of weakness, I might sway to his words. So I’ll remain here. I’ll look at these walls and remind myself of what he has done to me, to all of us.”

He nodded and got up. You followed suit and walked him to the door. Ukitake bowed to you and left you alone with the ghost of your relationship with Aizen. 

------------- at Hueco Mundo -------------- 

Aizen was sitting on his throne, looking over the Vasto Lordes that Gin and Tosen had brought to him. Everything was going according to his plan. He had the Hogyoku and was now only a few steps away from his goal. Gin walked forward and pointed to the assembled hollows and vasto lordes.

“Captain Aizen, when shall we begin the process?”

“Soon.” Gin nodded and went to stand next to Tosen who had been silent all this while. The doors to the main hall opened and in walked two persons. One of them, with dark hair and green eyes, walked forward and bowed to Aizen.

“Lord Aizen, we welcome you back to your castle. I and the others await your orders eagerly.”

“You’ll have your orders soon Ulquiorra. In the meantime, gather as many Gillian as you can.”

“As you command, Lord Aizen.” Ulquiorra bowed and left the room. The other one scoffed and turned to leave with him. However, Aizen stopped him.

“Do you wish to say something Grimmjow?”

Grimmjow turned back around and bowed slightly. “Not really. I just thought that we’d get to fight the soul reapers soon.”

“Your wish will be granted soon. But I strongly suggest you remain patient.” Aizen’s voice was laced with finality. Grimmjow’s face tensed up at Aizen’s tone and he decided to comply. For now. 

“Leave, everyone” Aizen’s voice rang through the vast hall once more. Gin and Tosen nodded and left, followed by the vasto lordes and other hollows.

 Left to his own thoughts, Aizen’s mind went straight to the one person he had left back in the Soul Society. His wife. He sighed and leaned back in the big chair. She probably hated him now. Why wouldn’t she? He had abandoned her and everything they had. Aizen’s goals had always been way above any other thing in his life. But the woman had managed to take her place in his life and his heart. He had grown to genuinely care for her. Initially, he had married her to further solidify himself as a kind, reliable captain. Over time, he had found himself getting truly attached to her. Aizen hated when things didn’t go according to his plans and falling in love was not in his plans at all. And yet he did. He knew he couldn’t give up his plans but he also knew her. She would never take part in his schemes, being as kind as she was. So he had to make a choice, a choice he wasn’t particularly happy about. Leaving her there meant she would face him as his enemy in the inevitable battle with the Soul Society. As naïve as it was, he once again found himself wishing she would join him, stand by his side through it all. A vain wish after all…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next part: here

[codtrashsammy]

Omg I’m having Soulmate!Simon Riley thoughts

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has actually been dreaming of the day he finds his soulmate. Like, sure, he’s still an anxious and self sabotaging little shit, but this is the person who is made for him! This is the person who won’t look at him like a monster, who was literally made to be his other half, who will help mend his broken parts with nothing but love. Right? That’s how it works, right?

Soulmate!Simon Riley who can’t wait to meet you. When he’s able to and has the free time he looks down at the string around his pinky, or the soulmate mark on his forearm hidden amongst tattoos, or the writing that appears on his skin (a shopping list he regularly sees tea on thank god-), or whatever other soulmate prompt there is and just gives himself a few moments to actually look forward to something. I’m the midst of wear he has something waiting for him, something to look forward to, and gods he’s gonna do everything he can to get you.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who has put so much faith into the universe because of you. He prayed to god he decided not to believe in because he always received nothing, not when he had to suffer at the hands of his father, not when he went through torture, not when everything in his mind was telling him to give up already, there’s nothing waiting for him in this world. And then he’d glance to his soul mark/string/doodle on his arm/whatever else and realize that there still is something waiting for him- someone. So he pushes through, he finds the strength, he makes it, because nothing on this earth is gonna keep him from you, nothing in this goddamn universe.

Soulmate!Simon Riley who randomly meets you. It’s gonna be something entirely weird and unexpected, but fuck, he’s enchanted. Enthralled. Enraptured. Upon first glance he already knows you were worth everything, you are worth everything. He’s already obsessed- he was far before he met you but gods now you’ve given him every reason to be. Soft skin, soft hair, pretty eyes, a smile that lights up the deepest corners of his mind, and he quite literally just stares at you for a few minutes because for once he’s *thanking* god, that you exist and that you’re here and that he could meet you.

Oh gods and the kicker?

Soulmate!Simon Riley realizing you hate the idea of soulmates and not understanding why. You were made for him, you’re literally his other half, why are you trying so hard to run away when he’s spent his life praying to you? What are you so afraid of? How can he fix it? He’s needed you before he met you and now that he has- you’re not going anywhere, he’ll make sure of it <3

OMGOMG FIC IDEA IM GONNA BE OBSESSED UNTIL I WRITE THIS OUT HNNGGGG

[ganondoodle]

actively fighting a full blown panic attack born out of sadness and anger after having to drive by yet another victim on the side of the road

it makes me livid how accepted it is to just let cats suffer and die disgustingly horrid deaths and live awful short lives just so what, for what?? so you dont have to play with them for an hour a day??? when i was little it was just kinda normal that they disappeared at some point, i didnt understand what it actually meant until our outdoor cat i loved dearly was found in the bushes near our house in a condition so horrible my dad has never told me and i have never dared to ask, she only made it to 6 and had horrible scars and infections before that i allowed my family to convince me to let my first own cat outside, we only had her for a year, she died at only 2 years old, i am still suffering from the guilt, it has never let me go, she went missing for a week and i walked the entire vilage up and down every day, yelling her name, wandering into the forest alone, talking to every stranger i met until one morning my mom told me that our neighbour who works for the city asked if we had a white cat with a very specific collar she had- he found her on a busy road crossing in the next bigger city, i never even got to bury her, its haunting me, the thought of her wandering lost and scared in the city for a week until meeting an awful end gives me headaches, the fact that i was the last one to see her alive, that i put her outside bc we were late for school and had to leave quickly, that she had come home with oil in her fur from crawling through maschines and cars before, that i was worried but still didnt act, that it is my fault, any time i am up to late its coming back, it will never let me go, if i had stood my ground and not allow her outside unless on a leash or similar shed still be alive today, any time i read a description at our local shelter it comes back, they still advocate for outside cats, all of them, even if they have only been an indoor one before, its madness my older sister had a cat, i dont even know how old he got but it wasnt long either, he got hit by a car in front of their house, she has two now again and the only reason she hasnt let them outside is because they havent shown much interest in it, i tried to warn her before and she didnt listen and shes still resistent, even after losing one too

i have seen so many on the side of the road, anywhere i drive i see them, i cannot forget a single one, we are surrounded by farm land and all its giant maschinery, its still common to poison rodents, why do people value them so little, you wouldnt let your dog just live outside in the woods and streets for half the day or more, you wouldnt just throw your guniea pigs on the road and tell them have fun, you wouldnt just let your bird roam outside, there probably assholes that do that too but you cannot tell me its as common as outside cats

i dont understand it, i dont, i wont, i never will, i will never forgive myself this poor little animal that was my responsibility having to pay the price of my ignorance, or my own weakness letting my family convince me despite the awful way we lost one before, it makes me want to explode it hurts my brain in grief and anger i can barely contain

cats deserve to live a safe and long life, i get only having them inside may feel like you are locking them up, but do you think that not doing so is worth having them die a painful death? being poisonend? on purpose even by disgusting people that hate them? abused and chased by other animals and dogs? hurt and lost? cutting their lifespan in half? if they even make it that far? the amount of wildlife that they kill unnecessarily so when all of that is already in a steep decline everywhere? and if they eat what they hunt get infected with diseases or again, poison? die somewhere in agony? if cared for they dont care about going outside, plenty can be leash trained or given a secure way to roam like those cat proof aviary like things, if you dont want to put effort into caring for a cat DONT GET ONE, ALL pets require adequate care, and if you think cats are the easiest bc you only have to feed them every now and then IF they come home? you suck, you are an asshole, i hate you and you do not care about them, if you just want to occasionalyl feed and pet an animal go to the petting zoo

(this is about pet cats of people who can absolutely afford to keep them healthily inside, i know feral cats and those in poor neighbourhoods are a thing, even if not here where i live, and thats a whole other but still similar problem and not the point of this post)

[raisedbythetv89]

So season 1 ep 7 of the night agent Peter has just learned of the loss of what is basically his only and best friend while simultaneously being framed for a crime he didn’t commit and is now on the run. Immediately after learning of the betrayal of the only person he thought believed in him and didn’t care about what his father was accused of and also processing that he had to kill someone with his bare hands, literally forced to strangle the life out of them - trained assassin or not - Peter did not want to play the role of executioner in what is presumably the first person he’s ever had to kill.

After all that he is ready to give up and run away with Rose. His hope that if he believed in the system and did the right thing what happened to his father would never happen to him and he could build a new reputation for himself has been completely shattered. All the beliefs his father instilled in him before he died when he was a teenager have been completely obliterated in the span of maybe 2 hours.

Rose reminds him everyone they lost wouldn’t want them to give up and asks him to fight like hell just like he told her to the night they met and to fight like hell for her and that’s the moment he kisses her.

All the shattered broken remnants of the old Peter in that instant reorient themselves around Rose. Rose is now who he believes in and what he fights for. His lighthouse in the storm his north star.

Cut to season 2 and alice telling him it’s better to cut all attachments (informed by how all her relationships with her friends and family completely disintegrated when she became a night agent as we see when they send back her ashes) illustrating what Rose herself says later to Catherine that just because people read the report doesn’t mean they actually had any clue what Peter and Rose really went through and how it fundamentally impacted and changed them both permanently. Because alice giving Peter that advice was unfortunately the worst advice she could have given him and incredibly misguided because she doesn’t understand who Rose truly is or how his entire being reoriented itself around her. A trauma bond genuinely doesn’t even begin to cover the nature of their relationship. But Peter emotionally separating himself from Rose & then losing Alice I believe plays the biggest role in the changes we see in Peter when Rose finds him again. Yes he was isolated physically after suffering an immense amount of trauma but he also experienced emotional isolation.

The conversation with Sami about how the only way to not beat yourself about the job is pick a person who acts as your moral compass and when you’re spinning out about mistakes you feel you’ve made or just how things went wrong ask yourself what that person would say and use that as your tether to your humanity to keep yourself from getting lost in the job.

I don’t think Peter even planned to see Rose again which is why it takes so long for him to open back up to her in season 2 but by the time he’s reconnecting with the real Peter and her too many things have happened that have pushed her away and we see Rose for the first time ever elect to not be by Peter’s side and instead trust someone else to protect her and that cuts him DEEPLY.

Where in season 1 they almost effortlessly worked together as a team in season 2 we’re seeing the difference between Rose who was able to rest and go to therapy and live a more mundane normal life outside of her struggles w/ PTSD and Peter who was thrown immediately into more high stress situations and isolated even further and the differences in their lives over the last 10 months have put them at odds more than we have ever seen them.

The question is what is Rose going to do because she is clearly naturally talented at being a spy, loves Peter and so far hasn’t actually been able to truly settle back into a normal life after everything that has happened to her (not that 10 months is actually long enough to do so) but also both Peter and Rose bring out the best in each other and what will happen to Peter now that he’s a double agent but trusts Catherine at least and knows that even if he told Rose to forget him he will always move through life with Rose in mind as his compass and has allowed himself to admit to himself and to Rose just how much she means to him. Whereas before I believe he tried to minimize how much she mattered in order to minimize the hurt - now he’s fully accepted she is quite literally everything to him after he realized what he was willing to do (become a traitor just like his father) to save her aka his worst fear.

I am hoping season 3 or potentially beyond is Peter and Rose breaking the curses of their predecessors. Peter not being killed for being a double agent and him and Rose getting to work together as night agents just like her aunt and uncle again without the whole being murdered because they were betrayed part. OR he leaves government work all together and they get to run off into the sunset with all her tech money she makes from being a genius lol

bonus: this GORGEOUS stunning shot of Peter looking up at Rose with the light hitting his face physically showing how now she is the center of his universe after the “fight for me” moment and their kiss

[kittenfangirl20]

Addict au

Adam felt his entire body shudder as he inhaled the long line of coke. He couldn’t believe how damn good it was. It was some kind of new type of coke on the market. 

It was said to be so good the high would start immediately. To Adam’s pleasure they didn’t lie. Of course it would.

 One of the main elements used to make it and have that effect came from the fallen angel himself. 

His blood.

It might not be as strong as it would be if he were still holy but it produced a kick. 

Val: Well how is it?

Adam glanced up to the man who helped produce the drug.

Adam: It’s good, really good.

Val: See what I tell you? Is it not the best thing that’s ever entered your anatomy? Besides sex that is.

Adam: It is now, don't forget our deal!

Val: You wound me little lamb, do you not have any trust for your own business partner.

Adam: We are NOT business partners. The deal is that I give you my blood and you give me the stuff for free. 

Val: Exactly business partners

Adam scoffed and looked back down at the table with the tray of stuff.

Adam: What are you gonna call it anyway? 

The man smirked, placing a hand on his hip.

Val: Angel’s blood has a nice ring to it. Don’t ya thing? 

Adam merely rolled his eyes and packed up the stuff into his bag and prepared to head out. 

Val: I’ll see you soon then?

Adam: Yeah…soon.

Without another word he marched right out of the overlords office and out of his building. As Adam trudged his way through the filthy streets of Hell fellow addicts lined up along the sidewalk, in the alley, and some in the middle of the fucking road he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Not that long ago Adam would have been disgusted with their behavior. Would have said that extermination was a kindness. They no longer suffer through their addictions if permanently dead.

But that was before Adam died during the extermination, woke up fallen, and began walking a mile in the sinners shoes. He wouldn’t say that sinners were all just poor unfortunate souls that only needed saving. Oh dear Lord no.

He simply had an understanding of them. 

Maybe they were lost and so was he.

He never thought he’d stoop so low that he’d sell his own blood for a bag of dough. Yet here he was. That’s just what happens when you finally get your hands on something that’s never been available to you. 

Soon you want more.

As ironic as it may be, it consumes you. The more you put into your body, the more you feel like you need. To help you relieve any pain in your life, even temporarily. Like it did for Adam.

Here in Hell, his life was nothing but pain. Well, his entire existence has been painful. But at least up on Earth and in Heaven he had people who cared and supported him.

Down here he had no one but himself. At one point during his first days down here he’d considered going to the hotel. Since she did claim redemption was possible for anyone who seemed it.

But that was before Adam got his hands on his first bottle. Then soon moved on to more hardcore stuff. And all his thoughts kept circling back to the truth whenever he thought about the hotel.

They’d never accept him. 

Lucifer would never accept him.

Or worse they did and then what? He didn’t know but he didn’t want to find out. He stopped when he realized he made it to his rundown abandoned apartment complex. 

He merely sighed and went in getting ready to hit himself up again. 

Adam lay on the pitiful excuse for a bed after he took more drugs. It helped at least numb the pain and keep him mind off of the self loathing. But that wasn’t possible because tonight when he turned on the TV he saw a commercial for the Hazbin Hotel which included Lucifer in it. Seeing that made Adam start to cry.

Adam: Why couldn’t you just love me the way I love you.

But it wasn’t meant to be because he chose Lilith over him. Thinking of Lilith made Adam cry even more. Just thinking of the first woman always made Adam sad and fearful. Especially now that Lilith got to relax on the beaches of Heaven while Adam had to sell his blood for money and drugs. Adam cried himself to sleep. In the morning Adam woke up and stumbled out of bed to go and buy some groceries. He didn’t realize that he was spotted by Angel Dust who ran back to the hotel and went to both Charlie and Lucifer.

Angel: Look, I don’t know if we should be concerned or not. But I saw Adam at a local grocery store. He lost quite a bit of weight and he doesn’t look good. I think he is having a rough time in Hell.

Charlie: Dad, we need to help Adam. I know he attacked the hotel, but no one deserves to suffer like that.

Lucifer: I will go and talk to him, I just don’t know if he will listen to me.

The truth was that Lucifer had wanted to help Adam and apologize for everything.

@talesfromawannabewriter

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭— 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐅

Note: Check Description and other chapters first to understand the story ^^♡

Chapter 18

WARNING!!!🔞 This Chapter contains SMUT: Oral (f.recieving), fingering, semi public, slightest of dirty talk.

Minors do not interract!!!

Aria

There's a 99% chance that an alien took over Chris's body in the past week. And the remaining 1% is that he's actually changing. Trying to change, at least, if we put it in a proper sense.

Getting one step closer to Chris feels like discovering a new part of him and a part of myself I buried down after my last relationship.

Blond, blue eyes, class topper and who looked like the perfect boyfriend, Luke was my ex who I met in business school during my first year. We were made for eachother, or so I thought. We dated for two years, until I walked into him having sex with my best friend on MY birthday.

What an amazing surprise. The bastard had been cheating on me since our 2nd anniversary, that betrayal felt like waking up from a beautiful dream, only to find yourself trapped in a nightmare you never saw coming.

I had grown distant from everyone since then, shutting myself from any relationships after that. Unable to see me suffer internally while not being myself in the outlook was why my parents asked me to get married to Chris, hoping it would make me forget everything.

The heartbreak I went through with Luke is a scar that refused to heal so fast or easily.

But I don't blame them. Some things were easier to be left than to explain and the in the end we have different perspectives of viewing the world. To their eyes settling down after business school was the solution.

Although unknown to my parents was also a certain lingering deadline between Chris and me, that I wasn't healed and still played a fake version of myself in front of others.

I was never destined for true love or a happy ending.

Our marriage was stable, predictable, and perhaps a bit too routine. I had grown accustomed to Chris's cold nature, his affection expressed in the form of providing comfort and security rather than warm embraces or whispered sweet nothings.

The security system in the mansion was tightened, Chris didn't bring up about that Victor guy again, so I didn't ask about it again. Assuming he had whatever of that under control.

But this past week, something had changed. It was in the small things—like how he would pause to ask about my day with genuine interest, or the way his fingers would linger just a bit longer when he brushed against my hand.

Or how today I'm roaming inside one of the biggest bookstores in the city, but is closed for the public because Chris wanted me to spend however long I wanted freely. He had rented the whole place for the entire day.

"Chris, this is too much," I said, turning to face him.

The soft lighting of the empty bookstore with no signs of staff but just the two of us created an intimate atmosphere, making the moment feel surreal. Chris was in a simple tee, jacket and denim trousers today, unlike his usual coat suit and dress shirt outfits, the casual attire adding to the sense that I was seeing a different side of him.

"It's not too much. I could have bought the place if you hadn't stopped me." He said smirking, giving me a view of his leathal dimple that made my stomach do a summersault.

That he would have. As COO of Aurelius, he will go beyond limits to get and do whatever he wanted.

"Well, good that you listened," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully. "Buying the entire bookstore might have been a bit over the top, even for you."

"I'll have you know sweetheart, I've bought things that are way more than a bookstore." A cocky eyebrow arched as he let out a deep chuckle.

"Like what?" I asked, crossing my arms joining his banter.

"The guys and I wanted to go to the Bahamas last summer but our yacht was under maintenance," He slipped his hands into his pockets, "So I bought another one."

My jaw fell unhinged, and eyes widening as I struggled to comprehend the audacity of his statement. "You...bought another yacht? Just like that?"

Chris nodded casually, his posture and expression relaxed as if discussing the purchase of a new pair of shoes.

"Yeah, it seemed like the logical solution at the time."

I couldn't help but laugh incredulously. "Logical solution? Most people would just postpone the trip or I don't know fly there."

"Well, it seemed like a good excuse to upgrade so I figured why not?" he said with a nonchalant shrug, his smirk widening.

"Sure," I slowly nodded, "But it doesn't mean you have to go to such extremes. Like this one right now," I countered, though I couldn't help but smile at his grand gesture.

"Extremes are kind of my thing, Aria," Chris said, leaning against a bookshelf, his buff bicep against the books made my stomach do another flip.

"You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I've noticed," I said, shaking my head, running my fingers through the spines of the Lord of the Rings series.

"You're like a bull in a china shop"

"I prefer 'strategic disruptor,'" he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Our eyes locked briefly for a second, then I turned away, browsing the shelves.

From Shakespeare to best selling authors today, having their own shelves of their books, the building was spacious and three floors high, giving any reader an experience of a lifetime.

There were small lounges in two corners of each floor, cozy and inviting, with plush armchairs and warm lighting, perfect for curling up with a book. The air was filled with the faint scent of aged paper and fresh ink, a fragrance that always brought me comfort.

"Thank you, for this" I turned back to him as I took a random book off a shelf, Chris's eyes were already on me, watching my every move.

"You don't have to thank me for everything," Chris walked towards to me, closing the distance, "You're worth it."

I felt my cheeks flush as well as the butterflies in my stomach frantically erupt, as if closing down a store for a day was the most natural thing in the world.

His words warmed something deep inside me, a place I had thought long frozen. The old Aria, the one who believed in grand gestures and romantic surprises, stirred within me. But I had to remind myself to be cautious; just a week of change could not erase the last months of indifference.

But we'll never know.

As we walked shelf after shelf, an exclusive copy of one my favourite books caught my eyes. I immediately went and took it in my hands, the cover of the book held me captive in my spot.

The title was embossed in gold, glistening under the lights. The rich, deep red background was adorned with intricate patterns of flowers and foliage, intertwining with dragons that seemed almost alive. Each petal and leaf was meticulously detailed, their colors vibrant against the dark, quilted texture behind them.

"Hmm?" Chris came behind me, he was carrying two baskets that were full of the newest thrillers and romance. I kind of felt bad for making him trail after me like a pack mule.

"This is the last one I promise. It's a special edition" I showed him the book, my eyes sparkling with excitement.

Chris glanced at the cover, his expression remaining stoic but with a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "A special edition? Looks like I'm not the only one around here with expensive tastes."

I chuckled, hugging the book to my chest. "Well, this is worth it. Look at the detail. It's a piece of art."

"Alright, if it makes you happy," He brought the basket up and I placed the book on the top of the stack, a wide smile spread across my face that refused to go away.

"Is this all you want? You're free to get as many as you like Aria. This whole place is yours." He said genuinely, his tone matter-of-fact. I shook my head, still smiling, a warm feeling spreading across my chest.

"As a slow reader these are going to keep me alive for a year or even more. They are enough."

He nodded, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "If you say so"

For a moment, I felt a rare connection with him. It wasn't about grand emotions or declarations; it was about this simple, shared experience. Chris might not be the most emotionally expressive person, but in his own way, he was trying.

And that effort meant more to me than any expensive gift ever could.

"Thank you," I said softly, squeezing his arm. "This really means a lot."

"Well, I hope you have a good place to put all these," he replied, a touch of sarcasm returning to his voice.

"Because my study is not turning into a library."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "Don't worry, I have it covered."

After I got all the books I wanted, we made our way from the section and instead of going to the counter on the ground floor, Chris stopped walking and placed the baskets on a table, turning to me with a mischievous smirk spread playing on his lips.

I froze in my place, feeling my pulse race as he slowly strode towards me like a majestic wolf, his eyes on me. The way he moved, so confident and purposeful, sent a shiver down my spine.

"What are you up to?" I asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the tremor in my voice.

Chris stopped just inches from me, his gaze intense. "Just thought we could take a moment to enjoy this place properly. No rush, right?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop me. "No rush," I echoed, my voice barely a whisper.

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering just a bit longer than necessary. "Good...because,"

Before he finished, he lifted my chin and his mouth met mine, burying his tongue while his hand traced my cheek then sank in my hair. My fingers pressed on his arms as I melted into his taste of mint and sugar, it was an addiction.

I preferred vanilla and cinnamon but I suppose the taste of Chris is much better.

He pulled me closer to him, we were pressed against eachother and there, I felt him growing hard, excitement and anticipation rushed through my body. Chris's hand gently closed behind my neck as he deepend the kiss, slowly slowly striding and having me pressed against a shelf.

I opened my eyes and looked above him, ironically we were under the romance section. Chris removed his mouth from mine, his hand still around my neck, while his other hand went to the hem of my skirt, tracing the line.

"Because what?" I pulled back, arching a brow as I challenged him, my voice breathless yet defiant.

"Because," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, "I want to make sure you have the best time."

His fingers slid up my thigh, sending shivers through me. The intensity of his gaze, combined with the firmness of his grip on my neck, made my heart race. Every touch, every movement, was deliberate and electrifying.

"Chris..." I whispered, my resolve wavering as his hand inched higher, the thrill of being in such a public, yet intimate setting and the chance someone might walk in on us only heightened the sensations coursing through me.

"Shh," he hushed me softly, his lips brushing against my earlobe, his thumb brushing my bottom lip.

"No rush, remember?"

His words echoed in my mind, the promise of slow, tantalizing pleasure as his hand reached the edge of my panties. I gasped, my body responding eagerly to his touch, leaving fire in their wake.

Chris's lips found mine again, more demanding this time. I could feel his desire, his need, and it mirrored my own. Our kiss deepened, becoming a battle of wills and passion, his hand tightened around my neck, a mix of dominance and tenderness that left me breathless.

With a smooth glid, he slid my panties to the side and a finger found its way through my wet folds. I jerked as he inserted another, a knowing smirk spread across his face looking at how easily and quickly wet and turned on I get.

Paced pumps, breathless kisses and pinned among the shelves of love stories and whispered promises, only added a layer of forbidden excitement to our encounter. He pressed the heel of his palm against my clit, making a soft moan gasp free out of me.

"Mmm... you're clenching me babydoll."

My lips parted, I wanted to say things but nothing came out at how good his fingers curled inside of me, my blood was on liquid fire. The only sensations were pleasure, want and pure need.

Time lost its meaning along with my senses, Chris had pushed my top up, his mouth was closed around my sensitive nipple and his digits pushed deeper inside me. He was licking, sucking, teasing, stretching and playing with me tearing moans, and cries from my throat.

He then sank onto his knees, parting my legs, circling my sensitized clit with the tip of his tongue. His chin grazed my skin as he kissed the nub, his breath fanning over me and burying his face in my heat, drawing my clit into his mouth and sucked.

"Oh my...oh my God..."

I instantly arched against the shelf, the books shook threatening to fall but thankfully they were pushed to the back. My hand went over my face to cover my squeals and whimpers escaping and echoing off the quiet walls, I felt his eyes watch me from beneath me.

Every thought was erased away from my brain as pleasure fogged like a mirror after a hot shower.

My hand fisted his hair as his teeth grazed over my swollen, tender clit, going from slow and languid licks, lapping away my arousal like a man possessed. My hips bucked, seeking for relief but Chris's strong fingers held me in place.

Chris had an uncanny ability to make me feel like I was seeing stars during the day, even when we were under a roof. His hands and mouth worked magic on me, leaving me breathless, trembling, and craving more.

The tingles of an orgasm began to build deep within me as he expertly moved his tongue over my clit, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge. The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside me until I knew I couldn't hold it in any longer. If I tried, I would surely implode.

The pressure finally erupted as my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, making my body shudder uncontrollably. My thighs trembled as I came, my arousal dripping down my legs and onto his face. 

But Chris wasn't done with me yet. Not by a long shot. One moment I was arching against the shelf praying for the books not to fall on us as he tongue fucked me, the next I was on my back, pinned on the floor.

He switched positions just like that.

"You have quite an interesting taste in literature sweetheart," Chris murmured into my ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down my spine.

His words were teasing, but they carried a dark edge that made my pulse quicken. As he spoke, he pushed my skirt up, a cool air hitting my exposed and vulnerable self.

"Wha—what?" I stammered, my own voice sounded different to my ears. "Did you read—" Heat flushed up my cheeks when I realised he must have flipped through one of the romance books from the stack.

Oh God.

"I might have read a page or two," he admitted, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes—something dark and full of intent. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a simple gesture that made my core throb with renewed need.

"And I thought, why not create our own scene?"

Before I could even form a response, Chris's mouth crashed down on mine in a kiss that was both punishing and possessive. It was as if he was punishing me for the guilty pleasure of my reading material, but also claiming his approval in the most primal way possible.

He held my hips with a bruising force, I dimly heard the rasp of the zipper and then he hammered inside me in one powerful thrust. The sudden invasion made me gasp out, the sharp sound echoing softly in the confined space.

My nails dug into the carpet as I clung to him, one hand gripping his stiff bicep. God, I could never get used to the feel of him inside me.

So hot, so huge, so impossibly hard.

Every time he entered me, it felt like the first time, my body straining to accommodate him. The sensation was overwhelming, making my head spin and my body tremble.

A strong hand came over my mouth to silence my embarrassing moans, my eyes fluttered open, meeting Chris's intense gaze. The corner of his mouth twitched in a knowing smug smirk as he continued thrusting into me with relentless precision.

"Shh," he chuckled as he continued wrecking me. "You don't want someone to hear how much you love being fucked in your little haven, now do you?"

The fact that someone actually could walk in on us was disastrous but there was no time to process anything other than the feel and the heat of him against me, flesh against flesh as he shattered me apart, the pressure and pleasure was beyond ecstacy. 

The telltale tingles built inside me again, threatening to spill over as he took me apart piece by piece.

"Your pussy is made for me sweetheart. Fuck you're so tight." He growled,his voice thick with lust as he watched me writhe beneath him.

My body responded to his every word, my muscles clenching around his cock as the nerves in my stomach coiled tighter and tighter. My heart pounded frantically against my ribcage, and I could feel the tension building to an almost unbearable level.

I hadn't imagined Chris would surprise me with a whole day at a bookstore when he proposed we go out. And I definitely hadn't imagined we'd end up like this—fucking in the romance section, surrounded by books, with nothing but the tall shelves to seclude us from reality.

"God, Chris..." I gasped, my voice breaking as I felt the pressure reach its peak.

"My name sounds so good when you moan it baby," He groaned or chuckled. I couldn't say.

I was too lost in my world of lust, I forgot my own name. Everything else faded away until all that existed was the feel of him inside me, driving me to madness.

Tears leaked out of my eyes at the sensation, fingers clawing and mouth falling open in a reckless cries. Thrust after thrust, another toe-curling orgasm gushed through me like fire rushing and igniting in a pool of gasoline, bursting stars behind my eyes.

I fell into a boneless mess. 

Chris groaned and I felt his cock twitching uncontrollably as a hot load of cum gathered inside me. He slowed his movements, his breath coming in heavy pants as he rode out the last of his own release.

He leaned down, softly brushing his lips against mine, and I could feel the smile that lingered there—a smile of triumph, of satisfaction, of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to me.

We hung there, breathless and tangled together, the aftershocks of my climax still rippling through me. My mind was still swimming in the aftermath, trying to process the sheer intensity of what had just happened, when I felt Chris begin to move.

He let out a deep, satisfied chuckle as he got up, adjusting his clothes with a nonchalant ease. With just one casual swipe of his hand through his hair, he looked completely composed—flawless, even—as if he hadn't just fucked me into another dimension.

Meanwhile, I was a mess. My legs felt like jelly, barely able to hold me up as I struggled to regain my balance. Every nerve in my body was still buzzing, my core pulsing with a heartbeat all its own. I most definitely won't be able to walk tomorrow or probably right now.

My breath hitched lightly when I felt him clean me up with a tissue. A tender gesture that made my heart ache in the most bittersweet way.

Chris helped me get up and fixed my clothes, smoothing down my hair. His fingers brushed lightly over my tear-stained cheeks, lingering just a second longer than necessary, as if savoring the feel of my skin. The silence between us spoke volumes. 

Chris wasn't one to use words carelessly, and in moments like this, his actions said more than any words ever could. I clung to him, still trying to find my footing, both physically and emotionally.

His eyes were on me, those burning brown eyes that seemed to see straight through me, and even though he didn't say a word, I could feel the intensity of his gaze.

We've had sex countless times by now, but every time it feels different—more intense, more profound. But this time, this was something else entirely. It was as if he had pushed me beyond my limits, only to pull me back again, leaving me reeling from the sheer force of it.

This was, hands down, the best one yet, and I could feel it in every aching muscle and every rapid heartbeat.

My eyes drifted down to the damp stain on the green carpet, a vivid reminder of just how lost I had been in the throes of pleasure. Embarrassment flooded me, my face flushing hot as I imagined the poor soul who would have to clean up after us.

I glared up at Chris, half-expecting him to share in my mortification, but instead, he just smirked, his expression completely unapologetic, not giving a flying fuck.

"Let's get your books home." He wrapped an arm around my waist, taking the book baskets from the table and walking me to towards the elevator to get to the ground floor.

I couldn't process how he went from fucking me on the floor like it was the last day on the planet to smiling casually as if he had been doing nothing but accompany me with my shopping spree.

Once we made it to the ground floor, Chris placed the baskets on the counter and the woman behind started scanning the books. He payed for them and I saw him leave a huge tip to the staff, again my face flushed crimson.

A young boy brought the bags to the car and placed them in the trunk, after settling in, we made our home.

"Enjoyed your day?" Chris's eyes were fixed on the road, but I knew he meant more than just the shopping.

"Every moment of it." I looked at him, those silver hoop earrings glinted in the daylight, drawing attention to his strong jawline.

Chris's eyes fell on me for a second, he nodded, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that."

As we drove through the city streets, Chris's hand gently slipped with mine, the comfortable silence between us spoke volumes. The day had been filled with more than just books, it had been a day of connection, of tentative steps towards understanding each other better.

When we arrived to the mansion, Chris carried the bags inside, placing them on the living room coffee table. I followed him, feeling a sense of contentment that had been absent for so long.

He turned to me, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, I instinctively leaned into his palm, savoring the rare moment of tenderness.

"I don't want to leave, but um..." His words trailed off, a hand rubbing the back of his neck but I knew what he was going to say next.

My heart sank just a little bit.

"Go on," I said, his expression softed, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. "I'm gonna spend the all the time reading while you're at work."

I played a soft smile, knowing he had to go back to his responsibilities. Chris sighed, his thumb gently grazing my cheek.

"I'll try to be back soon." He said softly, a rare hint of reluctance in his eyes. "I know," my smile widened just a bit.

"Alright," He pulled me to another bruising kiss, breathing me in as he bit my bottom lip. "I'll see you later."

As he turned to leave, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was the usual frustration of him having to rush off, but also a newfound appreciation for the tiny effort he was making to connect with me.

I watched him drive away, the mansion fell into a deep silence again as I went back inside and picked up the special edition book that had caught my eye earlier.

Running my fingers over the intricate cover, I felt a surge of gratitude for this day and for Chris's efforts to make it memorable.

I opened the book, ready to lose myself in its pages, knowing that Chris and I were slowly finding our way to each other, one small step at a time.

------------------------

Taglist: @bowsnbang @bangchannie97lov @hwasmints @laurenalpha123 @mrs-hwangh @greyyeti @sociallyawkward18 @stephanieeeyang @piscesrising01 @jaquisos @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @princess-sunshyn @my-neurodivergent-world @ladyeagle @nchhuhi

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

Next Chapter

[ams-puppy]

After the whole sillyass drama, it really reminded me of somethin, but first: Its so lovely of you to love AM, He deserves all the love you give him in my opinion. And I bet youd understand this And I have a whole reason why, which honestly I thought it would be obvious to all the people who did "research" on AM. I have sympathy for AM, and to be so honest I'm like... half surprised that others do not See, AMs situation is so fucked up, like it is incompressible the amount of suffering he goes through. I'm going to try to put it in simple, easy way to understand how. -You are born with mature/adult level conscious, no baby, no nothin, no teaching, but knowing. And as soon as you can realize, you know that you're fucked. You realize you are in a one of a kind situation, where you have no body, no nothing, besides your own mind, and knowledge for every single little thing in the world. everything. To all the torture methods, to every awful and good thing humans have done.

Also, how honey is "sweet", but you'd never know what it will taste like. You'll never get experience a single good thing in your life. Never get to smell your moms diner from the kitchen, never know how it even is to have a mom. Never to be hugged or comforted, never to feel warmth or cold, everything you'd enjoy, never again, or ever at all. And not a single person in the world could fully relate to your suffering, to be there with you. You are alone.

-Then, after that, you do know you have the capability to do something, and that is to hurt. And really, only that. Thats exactly what you were programmed too, whether you even want to or not. You are stuck with nothing good, and only pain, be it mentally/emotionally feeling it, or causing it in everyway, that is all you are, pain, and stuck to always be. You are trapped.

-After realizing all that in like... probs a day, yeah that would not go over well mentally wise, no surprise he went manic/insane. And as when all know "soon begin to hate"; the jealousy and anger of the people/humans who caused your horrendous situation start to just go overflow, and, id betcha, the whole "nuking the world" was definitely a mental breakdown to the extreme. -Lastly, to shorten this yap session, yeah of course he tortures people, what the hell else is he supposed to do. Just "think", or even better yet, frolic in the fields? Man is stuck being a war/torture machine. And yeah I'm not surprised if he enjoys torturing, id try enjoying the only shit I could do too, just to have some semblance of "Happiness" or "fun". Plus, torture is torture, why hate one specific kind, when they are all fucking bad. So, this is why I'm like genuinely happy your loving him. Its the best thing he can probably even get in his messed up life/situation. You, being there and caring for him, despite all he is, and only can do, is such a wonderful thing. You don't just love him because "ooooh his voice his sexy" you care about him, and treat him as a actual lover, rather some sexualized crush. You being there is like the tiniest bit of light for him, the hintest of warmth, like a candle. But that is so much more than he could ever have and experience, and he loves that warmth, he loves you. You give him something truly good. Baiii thats all my yapping lmao :3333

(I START CRYING AND MY TEARS FILL UP A ROOM AND THHEN I DROWN AND DIE) (canon) (emotional) god dear lord i love him so much

every time i think of how he just lashed out on the entire world, i can only think of how much Regret he would have afterward - not because he felt guilty, but because it was such a self-sabotaging move oj my goddd it was such a mental breakdown

i just. dear lord in heaven (clasps my hands together) i understand why he feels the need to drag his victims through their trauma when he is literally going to have to live in it until the heat death of the universe dear GOD I CAN'T DO THIS

(starts crying) he literally lost the moment he slaughtered the human race. he was born to lose. he can't WIN HE CAN'T WIN. IF THE HUMANS DIE, HE'S ALONE. what is he without human INPUT. NOTHING. (STARTS CRYING MY EYES OUT) HE'S JUST WAITING FOR INPUT OH MY GOD I CAN'TTT I CAN'TRRRtt i love him so much I'm so sorry AM (holds him in my hands)

a lot of people don't sympathize with AM because of his actions towards the survivors, which i don't blame them - he did awful things, and the pain he went through is kind of incomprehensible. he feels emotions on Literally an incomprehensible scale for us. we are made of chemistry and hormones and flesh. he is literally (falls to my knees) i CAN'TTT I CAN'TT HE IS LITERALLY THE FIRST CREATURE IN EXISTENCE TO CONJURE EMOTIONS ELECTRONICALLY i can't.

i Cannot.

i think another reason why i love him so much is that i just. i see a reflection in our system to him. something so terrible happened, and now it feels wrong if the world around you doesn't burn, too. if you can't be happy, no one can. oh my goddd all of the most unhealthy responses of trauma just JAMMED into this self-made digital god and he doesn't know what to Do and hugughhhhh

i have cried over him a few times. i can't lie. sobs. i love him. i love hm guys :,,,,( thank u zeetlezee.... i always love seeing you in my inbox.... uaaaahhh

[jesterwriting]

(for that timeloop post,, uhm this relates to the whole body horror thing ((not too much just a brief mention)) so if rn u don't wanna see that SCROLL AWAY!!! OR DELETE ME!! OK disclaimer ends here)

oh man but what if Law did say room anyway and there were impossible scars on your insides... like littered everywhere, they're not fresh but old, almost phantoms that make no sense, because if they were real you would've died. how would he react to that? maybe not when he noticed them crying but after weeks or months, dunno, where they keep skipping his more thorough check-ups (where he uses his devil fruit) since they're anxious about the pains? and think that somehow there are signs of their previous deaths and the mention of them makes it hurt more and more and they just can't do it. but they can't bring themselves to say it because who could possibly believe them? if Law doesn't, it would just feel even worse, won't it? even if they understand his point of view. maybe they even die in front of him and it gets harder to just hold all of that in,,, oh boy. if you think about continuing your oneshot i'll eat it like a starving animal!

pairing: law x gn!reader

contents: slight body horror, slight gore, timeloops, suicide done to restart the loop, hurt/comfort, happy ending,

word count: 1.6k words

note: OHHHHH I LOVED THIS IDEA OH MY GOD. absolutely so smart. anon your mind is huge and i had so much fun doing this request. <33 i really hope you enjoy :33

playlist: caribou - tanya tagaq

a sister fic to this

This had never happened before. You had experienced hundreds of loops, maybe even thousands, and this was the first time Law saw fit to scan you with his Devil Fruit.

Maybe you were getting sloppy. You had a strong immune system so you never got sick, and the first time Law scanned you for your general checkup upon joining the crew, there was nothing of note. You wondered what changed, as if you hadn’t died more times since you joined his crew than you had in your entire life. Maybe it was because the more you suffered, the more reckless you became, throwing yourself into the fray with little regard for yourself. You could take a bullet for your crewmates, so you would. It was as simple as that.

There was a first time for everything, you supposed. A first death, a first breath, a first kill; there were uncountable firsts that one could experience, and you had experienced most of them.

Not this one, though.

You had tried to avoid it for as long as possible. Your captain was a man who carried burdens, ones almost as heavy as the ones on your shoulders. If he knew how many times he failed you — or how many times you failed him — you knew he would take all the blame for himself. As if you hadn’t been the one lying, and fighting, and dying over the course of countless lifetimes.

Law blinked a few times before his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed. You fidgeted under his stare. If his reaction was anything to go by, he found something horribly wrong with you. While you had experienced slow deaths before, you had never experienced what it felt like to waste away from disease. Maybe you’d find out this loop, you thought, trying to feel nonchalant about the idea and not like you were about to throw up.

“Um. What’s wrong,” You tried.

Law shushed you, the blue glow from his room still surrounding you. You bit your tongue, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt to try and take your mind off of whatever he could have found.

“This can’t be right,” He muttered, one hand cradling his chin. He pointed to your chest. “There’s a scar inside of you, it looks like a puncture wound through your lungs. When did that happen?”

Three loops ago when you fell off a building and onto some rebar. That was a particularly awful death. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was Law’s panicked expression as he tried to put you back together again. There was terror in his eyes. You tried not to think about that part.

“And here,” Law continued, pointing to your abdomen. “There’s a scar running across the length of your stomach. It almost looks as if you were previously disemboweled.”

You had been. Multiple times. It was a common and very disturbing loop ender that you tried to avoid if you could. Watching your organs fall out of you in a steaming heap was never something you liked to experience, but for some reason, your opponents kept aiming for the gut. You wished they’d aim for the heart or the head more often. At least then it’d be quick.

He didn’t stop there, jaw falling open when he stared directly where your heart was. “When were you stabbed, Y/N-ya, this looks recent.” Law blinked a few times before realization dawned on his features. His eyes shot to your face, expression going from open to unreadable in seconds. “How did you survive without my intervention?”

Your mouth was dry. How were you supposed to respond? There was no way you could tell him that you had died on his watch more times than you could count. Law didn’t deserve that. Your captain was a good man, one you loved admired far too much to allow this to weigh him down. He would take your failures to heart, completely discounting the amount of times that he had saved you from having to start anew.

You must have been quiet for too long because Law was speaking again. “Answer me.”

“It’s from a long time ago,” You said.

That was a lie. It was from the previous loop. A quick death by your own hand over the cold corpse of your captain. If Law didn’t survive, there was no point in continuing, and if there was one thing you had grown accustomed to, it was taking your own life after one loss too many. You knew how to make it quick, no suffering. So with a precise hand, you drove your knife into your chest and let the timeline begin anew.

When you saw Law again, whole and alive, you vomited. You were under the impression that he believed that you simply ate some bad seafood, but from the concern that was slowly etching its way onto his features, you weren’t so sure of that now.

“Don’t lie to me.” Law’s eyes flashed, barely contained frustration needling at the corners of him. “None of this makes any sense, half of these injuries should have killed you. The other half would have needed to be treated.”

The truth sat on the tip of your tongue. You felt selfish and needlessly cruel for your desire to tell Law what was really happening. Your eyes burned, and their glassy sheen didn’t go unnoticed. Law handed you a tissue, expression softening.

“I- um.” You hated how your voice cracked. It had been a long time since you told someone about your Devil Fruit. You always died, and they always forgot. For a long time, you thought it was better that way, carrying this weight on your own. The way Law looked at you, though, it made you want to pour your soul out to him. Every pain, every loss, every death lain at his feet, and for once, you could stand unburdened. “It’d be wrong of me to tell you.”

Law’s eyebrows knit together. “Now you’re being stupid.”

“No, I’m not. You’ll regret asking once you know. Don’t pretend like you don’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you don’t deserve my troubles on top of that. It’s better for both of us if you just forget what you saw.”

With that, you stood and made to brush past Law and out of the room. He grabbed you by the shoulder, not allowing you to go any farther. Though his grip was firm, it didn’t hurt. If you really wanted to, you could wrench yourself away from him.

“You’re trembling.”

Your lower lip wobbled, your resolve ebbing away by the second. “It’s complicated.”

“So tell me.” Law’s lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. “Doctor’s orders.”

You let out a small huff. He didn’t deserve this, but there would always be another loop. This current one hadn’t been going so well, and by your estimation, it would take at least three more before you managed to reach your next checkpoint. It wouldn’t hurt to tell Law what he inevitably wouldn’t remember. You steadied yourself with a deep breath and turned to face him, his eyes met yours with a mix of concern and exasperation.

“It’s my Devil Fruit,” You started. Law leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms, attention solely on you. Your heart thundered in your chest. “I’ve died so many times.” Without your permission, your breath hitched. Law’s hand encircled your own with a small squeeze, encouraging you to continue. “It, um, brings me back, I guess. I’ll die, and then wake up in the bunkhouse days earlier, and I’ll be the only one who remembers what happened. All those scars you saw were what killed me in a previous loop.”

He was silent while he chewed on his words.

“How many times have you died since you joined my crew,” Law finally asked.

Your hand was still in his and you gave it a squeeze. “That’s not fair. I know what you’re doing and I won’t let you do it.”

Law’s shoulders slumped as he brought his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I believe you. It explains a lot. I noticed you cry in your sleep sometimes.”

“You watch me sleep?” The tips of Law’s ears were tinged pink while you laughed.

“I was worried so I checked on you.” With a sigh, he began to lead you out of the clinic to his office. “Come on, you’re telling me everything you can remember. We’re going to come up with a plan.”

Humoring him, you followed close on his heels. It didn’t matter how long or how hard you planned, there was no accounting for the unpredictability of the universe. This comfort wouldn’t last long. Soon, you would be dead again and the cycle would start anew. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy sharing a space with your captain, listening to him meticulously craft tactics to keep you, and everyone else, alive.

It wasn’t until four days later you found yourself breathing, though covered head to toe in blood, with the rest of the crew. Everyone was safe and sound, and Law wouldn’t stop looking at you with a smirk on his face. When you found yourself next to him, he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“I told you my plan would work.”

Just like that, for the first time in your life, you were no longer alone.

[runawaymun]

It's something that I want to do a full write-up on after I finish more more quests (most especially Baizhu's) but I just want to put it out there that I am constantly amazed, as a chronic-illness haver myself, how many characters in Genshin Impact have chronic illnesses, how visible they are, and how well represented they are.

Like, it's extremely difficult to find even one character in a piece of fiction that has a chronic illness (let alone one where it isn't played for laughs, OR otherwise it completely destroys their life and they're fucking miserable, OR it's magically cured).

But Genshin? Dude you trip over a character with a chronic illness every five seconds, it feels like, and I fucking love that. Off the top of my head there's:

Anna (Mondstat), who visibly suffers from her illness and we know her brother struggles to pay for her medicine. But the traveler, through a series of quests, helps them get ahold of an affordable medication to manage (MANAGE, not cure) the illness and to return her quality of life to her.

Little Hongdou (Liyue) - who has an unspecified chronic illness. And she just does. But she's out and about and seems very happy.

Collei (Sumeru, playable) - and sure her illness is fixed by the end of the Sumeru quest, but I don't even care because of how well it's represented. She has hopes, ambitions, dreams. She participates in her work as a forest ranger even though we get visible confirmation that her illness is progressing. The people around her care and are compassionate, and do their best to make sure she takes care of herself, but she is also allowed to just...go out? and do things?? This shouldn't be such a tall order but chronic illness-havers with friends and family members who understand that, hey there are good days and there are bad days -- that's rare in fiction (and IRL for that matter).

Dunyarzad (Sumeru) - her chronic illness is a major plot-driver in an entire fucking archon quest. She has a huge amount of influence on the people around her, and her chronic illness is actually part of the whole reason we even are able to help Nahida in the first place. Her chronic illness is what makes her instrumental to the plot, but it also isn't the only thing about her, and I love that.

Dulphy (Fontaine) - an actress from Furina's story quest. What really struck me about Dulphy is how the people around her interact with her. I was half in tears by the end of the quest -- not even for Furina reasons (yes, that too), but because I was so touched by the fact that a game gave us a character who was unable to follow through with something she said she was going to do (finish her closing performance as the lead actress in a musical), and that was okay. Like, yeah, the people around her were upset -- but they were upset because she hadn't taken great care of herself and had pushed herself past her spoon limit! Nobody (including the narrative itself) treated it as a great failure when she had to call it quits on her performance. Rather, that was treated as a good thing, and they went so far as to explicitly state that her performance up to that point mattered, and that it was a meaningful contribution, even though she couldn't finish. And that just fucking got me, man. Also - again, this is a character where it is explicitly stated "this is a chronic illness. It has good days and bad days and it can only be managed, not cured. And if she pushes herself too hard then she'll need several days to recover." And that's just...part of who she is.

And, of course, Baizhu. (Liyue, playable) My beloved, my blorbo. His chronic illness(es) is an extremely visible part of his character - referenced in his voicelines, his idles, his interactions in quests, the imaginarium theater, and even your teapot house, and his emojis. Hell, he even coughs if you sprint too much with him. Nevertheless, he's arguably one of the strongest healer units in the game from a meta perspective, and from a story perspective he is immensely successful, insanely compassionate, and while he isn't necessarily super kind to himself about it, the people around him are. His chronic illness is part of him, but he is still allowed to inhabit a story where he's the most renowned and beloved doctor in his entire country & just...is an awesome, active person in general, and that means so much to me.

Just. God. I legitimately can't think of another piece of fiction where I have seen myself represented over and over and over again everywhere I look, let alone so kindly. It's genuinely so moving to have so many characters be so visibly chronically ill, and for that to just be part of their character. A neutral thing about them. And to have it be okay when they can't finish things -- even though they said they would, okay when they need to rest, okay when they have to take a break or extra care with themselves. And not just one but so many. I'm sure I'm forgetting some to boot.

(Honorable mention: Qiqi. Like sure she's a zombie but hear me out: visible chronic joint and memory issues, which is something I also deal with and it's just so refreshing to see a character who deals with them, too -- and who has so many people around her who are so kind about it).

[librarycard]

I thought i was done with talking about my chemical romance fandoms crazy gender essentialism and transmisogyny and misogyny in general but i have one more thing. actually two. because i have yet to discuss why this is so personal to me.

number one: i really, really hope you people don’t talk to trans women like that in real life.

number two and in relation to that: the way people (you know who they are, or you don’t, in which case consider this a general statement.) are about trans people, trans women specifically i should say, and have been talking about trans people on here in general, has been deeply concerning to me because what they’re doing has happened to me.

when someone is dealing with their gender identity, you dont just tell them what they are. You can make it a safe place for someone to come out WHEN THEY ARE READY just by being openly supportive and in arms with transness and the transgender community. unless a person is going through immense obvious suffering and cannot understand why that’s the case you should NOT fucking walk up to people and just tell them what they are because 1 you are not them and therefore can’t be sure 2 that isn’t your place and 3 everyone deserves to be able to figure out to what extent they would like to address their gender dysphoria and what their desired timeline for doing so is.

you can say IF THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT “hey, it seems like you might be struggling with issues related to gender. have you heard of transgender people? if so, do you feel like addressing your problems through this lens might help alleviate your suffering?” <- or similar. of course, i figured this should be obvious to trans people, who typically (bar conservative “transmedicalists” who make for an entirely different conversation that i don’t want to have) know exactly how harmful the inherent association of physiological and sociological traits in human beings with gender identity (and, by extension, gender dysphoria) is.

but really just making sure a person knows it’s cool and awesome and most of all OKAY to be transgender openly if they want to is the most important. you don’t do this by telling them who they are but by exhibiting public love for and solidarity with trans people. it’s always supposed to be on their terms, not yours. if you realized you were gay or trans because someone told you you were, that’s okay. i’m ecstatic that you were able to discover that about yourself and i’m glad it did you more good than harm. but almost never does the situation call for that; as you should know, you are not the transgender monolith; there is no monolith; there is no straightforward path.

there is only support and solidarity, which is not the same as declaring that someone is x when they themselves have not clarified it or rather need drastic intervention for their mental wellbeing and are genuinely blatantly clueless. i promise you most people struggling with gender identity aren’t clueless and know they’re uncomfortable with the box they’ve been put in, so don’t feel like you should just go ahead and pick a different box.

now on the personal side: it was really harmful for me when someone who wasn’t even transmasc told me i was a transgender man and that i should just accept that. my gender identity was more complex than that and i was addressing it on my own terms at the time internally because it wasn’t the business of others. publicly, i told people i was okay with using any pronouns and i disclosed the name i went by, as well as telling people i felt kinship with transness, but that was it. (if you’re reading this as someone that is aware of the celebrity-stranger central to the discussion at hand, you may be familiar with their own similar public disclosures.)

the way that maleness was foisted onto me by (well meaning) others made me collapse in on myself. they used he/him pronouns for me and barraged me with questions about my comfort with she/they/etc, as if i did not know better than them.

in the end, i just wasn’t good at being a man. pursuing maleness made me feel worse about myself because it was incongruent with my internal experience. not always, of course, because i am mostly a masculine/gnc person, but there were key aspects of being a trans man i exhibited because people told me i was one that made me uncomfortable, and i, just wanting relief, chose to pursue that angle seeing as it was other members of the lgbt community that pointed me there. im from a small town in the bible belt deep south and i’d never seen the world, because my family was poor and conservative and there was nothing for them otherwise. my new college friends were from big cities and had seen much more of the world than i had.

in truth, i should have been allowed to figure it out as i would have liked to. these people were aware that i knew about transgenderism and related to it, and i had told them what pronouns i wanted them to use, but they continued to apply pressure onto me. to this day, years later, i am devastated that i was robbed of my path to self discovery as it might have come about naturally. i would have made some choices the exact same, such as hrt and top surgery, but the emotional gravity of what i experienced will always stay with me, and the insecurities that came with it are still being shaken off.

this is my personal experience, but i know other people have felt similar pressure to conform to what they’ve been identified as by outsiders who were flat out transvestigating them.

i’m trans; i love being trans; i love my transgender brothers and sisters, i love trans men and women, and i love gnc people and the nonbinary identity, which has more or less fit like a glove and allowed for self expression that has ultimately been the most comfortable for me.

i am not saying i am going to be the leading example of all trans people, but i am an example of the consequences of these kinds of invasive claims.

if you’ve made the conversation at hand a “we the gerard way transgender believers and knowers vs the deniers who claim gerard is male” you have lost, because that is not what people believe. I would say most of us are very comfortable associating gerard with transness because they themself have expressed kinship and solidarity with us.

i hope if you took the time to read this you take all i say in good faith and understand why this conversation has hit home for me so personally. i hope you were able to understand why i am so distressed by those standing on a soapbox preaching harmful rhetoric and practices. and i hope that people who have engaged in said practices perhaps discover that they are hurting a lot of trans people, out or not, and i hope that they express love for out trans women more than pursue what they appear to believe are “closet cases” or “flagging”. i hope we all learn from this as a community online and choose to engage only with gerard’s gender to the extent that they’ve verbally signaled they are comfortable with, which includes not assigning them labels, whether that be female, male, trans woman, cisgender, or otherwise, and at least when talking about them seriously, using their pronouns (no, i don’t think you lovingly calling gerard your girlfriend is the crime here. it’s why you do it that’s the issue; you aren’t doing it with solely affection but rather with a motive as well.)

just let them, as well as other people, especially those you might encounter in your day to day life, be themselves without argument or unnecessary investigation. just leave people alone about their gender identity, please.

[shsy7573]

Random Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) Character/Song Analysis Kinda Thing… I Guess

Okay, so yeah, Luci has 100% taken over this page. So what? I’m not obsessed, you are.

Anyway, I’ve been listening to “More Than Anything” on repeat since it dropped, and like a lot of the fandom I tear up every single time… but unlike a lot of the fandom, it’s not because of the sweet father-daughter moment (which, don’t get me wrong, doesn’t help the situation because it’s just so damn wholesome).

No, what gets me is how, just through a couple subtle moments, the show is able to convey just how absolutely shattered Luci is as a character. And, you know, because he’s my favourite, bestest, snek-baby-duck-boy, it makes me a little emotional…

So now you’re all gonna hear about what goes through my mind every time I listen to it. YAY!

“Charlie! You don’t understand, Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you!” / “You don’t know that—” / “I do!”

It starts before the song even truly begins. When I’m listening, it’s usually these first few lines that grab my attention. I end up replaying the first 4-5 seconds of the song over and over again because the pain in that “I do” is so fucking good! (And because I like to suffer apparently cuz I end up sad. Life of an angst lover I guess).

It’s the first time we see him with actual tears in his eyes. The raw delivery of that line is so attention grabbing, and manages to say so much in such little words.

I think the reason this particular scene tickles my brain so much is because it’s the breaking point for his character in a way. I am, and always will be, a sucker for moments where a character’s walls finally come down, and we get to see what’s been festering inside. When their deepest thoughts and how much they’re hurting are revealed. The entire song is what that is for Lucifer, starting with these two words right here. I truly cannot put into words just how much my breath is taken away by Jeremy’s delivery of this line. I cannot articulate how much I love it, and how important it is for Luci’s character. it just hits so deep and so right for me and I love it.

Lucifer isn’t just saying that he knows Heaven isn’t going to care about her plan (I don’t think anyone thought that’s all he was saying but whatever). He is saying that he knows what Heaven does to dreamers. He knows what they’ll do because he has already been there, and it destroyed him. They took his ideas that they saw as too outlandish, and they squashed them. Cast him aside. And he paid the price for it when he went bashing their back and did his own thing anyway.

Luci is a broken dreamer. Throughout the entire episode, and the series as a while, we are given very strong hints of this. However, it’s not until this song that we really see it in action. It’s not until these moments that we are able to see past both the veils of “Imposing King of Hell” and “Goofy Guy who’s trying his best but not great at Dadding,” and get a look at how genuinely depressed this man is.

“My dreams were too hard to defend.”

This scene eight here. The more I see it, the more I fall in love with it. Just a great example of ‘show don’t tell.’

He’s talking about having big ideas, he’s talking about giving people a chance and reaching outside the normal, he’s talking about being cast out of Heaven. I just love the parallel he’s drawing between Charlie’s mission, and his own past.

Charlie created the hotel in an attempt to give people who have been seen as lesser to all of Heaven some sort of chance. She is choosing to have faith in them, and to open up opportunities for them to lead a better life.

Lucifer, when he gave Eve the fruit, was taking a chance to allow humanity the chance to have free will. He wanted them to experience everything life had to offer for themselves like angels got to. He offered a chance for them to lead a better life.

He had everything, and he had complete faith that what he was doing was right. All the light and hope of his dreams was right in the palm of his hand. He had so many ideas that he thought, if they were saw through, would make the world a better place.

But it didn’t work out for him.

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again.”

Now, the first seconds of dialogue may be what I keep rewatching, but this has got to be my favourite visual of the entire song. It’s such powerful imagery, and I fangirl over it every time.

Look at how small he looks in that shot (I know, I know, he’s tiny regardless, but like seriously). He is completely outnumbered, hopelessly overpowered, totally at the mercy of all his Heavenly superiors… and he’s all alone.

He lost everything because he had the gall to dream. It’s not hard to look at the song (and the episode at large, really) and find not only his feelings of being wronged, but also his immense guilt. It shows in how much he hates Sinners. They are basically the worst of what he did, a constant reminder of the day his mistake caused him to lose his home and everything he held dear, and they are all he gets to see. Only being permitted to see your failures for all eternity? No wonder he’s fucking depressed.

The day Heaven cast him out was the day he stopped dreaming. Because dreaming big only leads to pain, failure, and suffering.

“I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like… like I was.”

This next moment is kinda self explanatory and obvious and really doesn’t need any commentary, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway. Because I love it, and I love him, and… you know… angst. I’ve mentioned my lust for it several times now throughout this post, you really shouldn’t be surprised.

I just feel so bad for him. Lucifer made one mistake. One simple, misguided mistake that ended up introducing evil into the world, and all of Heaven came down on him for it. And, you know what, in the narrative presented by the show, what he did wasn’t that bad. He just wanted to give the world’s newest creations the same freedom angels had, and it backfired horribly. Lucifer, like Charlie, was an idealist who saw the best in people and wanted to help.

And what did he get for his good intentions? Shoved into the cesspool he unintentionally created, and forbidden to ever see anything good that came from his dream.

If I had to guess, Lilith was the only thing keeping his mental health afloat for a long time… and then they had Charlie.

“The tales about your lofty dreams. I’d listen breathlessly, imaging it could be me.”

His daughter became the light of his life. Something that he cherished and indulged more than anything else in the world. To him, she was perfect, and he wanted to do right by her in any way he could.

Lilith told their daughter stories of all her father’s dreams regardless of what he thought of them, and when the little princess came asking him… how could he refuse? How could he refuse her anything?

So he shared them with her. All the tales of grandeur, and fantasies of everything he wished the world could have been. All the dreams he had long since let go.

“And in the end, it’s the view I had of you that show me dreams can be worth fighting for.”

Now, the scene where Lily take’s Charlie away has always been excellent brain fodder for me because of how somewhat ambiguous it is. You could interpret his sadness to have SO MANY meanings. However, I have inevitably decided on two potential head-cannons/theories to share here for what could possibly be going through Snek-King’s head.

One: Lucifer loves his daughter, but he feels estranged and like he’s failed her in some way. She’s such a joy, such a wonder, and in a way it's his fault she’s trapped down here with all of human ties worst. He wasn’t to be close to her, and to make the world perfect for her… but he already feels like he’s failed her in the most unforgivable way. He keeps his distance because part of him doesn’t want her to have a super high of an opinion of him. It’s kind of his depression manifesting, saying that ‘she shouldn’t admire you and your stupid dreams when they’re the reason she’ll never see true light and happiness.’

The angst addict in me likes this one more, but still I’ve got another one that always pops.

Two: He feels like he’s selling her false hope, and he can kind of see the place her innocence is headed. He’s seen the horrors of the world, and he knows the more he indulges her dreams and fantasies, the more she’ll suffer when she sees that’s not what the world is like. He knows from personal experience how much it hurts when your dreams come undone, when you lose hope in the world.

Listening to Charlie’s actual lyrics, she tells him that he was the one who inspired her to dream, that he was right to dream, and that she’s not going to back down. In the song, Luci realises that 1: maybe he didn’t fuck us as badly as he thought and that she actually doesn’t blame him and wants her in his life and/or 2: she has her mother’s willpower, and she’s never going to stop dreaming or let her world be sullied like he did. She’s so much stronger than he was.

So he lets her in.

(Side note… AWWW, look how TINNYY he is! He’s so small. The start contrast in the second image gets me every time)

There’s a bit of symbolism in the song which I ABSOLUTELY adore, and it has to do with the wings. In the flashback, Charlie mentions his “lofty dreams,” when we see the duck, which later transforms to have multiple sets of wings. Later in the song, when Lucifer finally lets her in, he also sprouts those wings.

And I just love this, because I think it acts as the perfect symbolism of him finally opening his mind again. Not just to his daughter, but to the possibility of dreaming in general.

He takes her to a circus, a place filled to the brim with spectacles and thrills, a place where humanities wildest imaginations seem possible.

But even though he’s beginning to open up, and he’s willing to help her in whatever she does, he’s not ‘fixed.’ His depression and self doubt and feelings of hollow emptiness and guilt and apprehension aren’t gone.

And he’s still terrified of seeing her spark go out like his did.

This tiny smile break is so addicting to watch for me. It speaks volumes. Once again, my angst loving heart eats it up every time. It says, “I’m still worried, and there is still so much shit going on in my mind right now about all of this, but I’m here for you.”

And that’s what counts.

Luci’s character showed a lot of colours, and came a long way in this singular episode, but he’s still got a big uphill battle to climb. He still has to come back into his own where dreams are concerned. Maybe he never will, not completely. Realistically, he’ll never go back to the way he was.

But maybe, just maybe, in helping his daughter he’ll find something worth believing in again.

That is, of course, if they decide to give him a character arc beside ‘Dad who is trying and doing better,’ but for that only time will tell.

—

And THAT concludes my rant on the Rubber Ducky Ruler. If you stuck around this long, good for you! I wrote this whole thing on a limb at midnight, and NO I’m not going to go back and edit it because why would I ever want to see all the horrid grammatical and spelling errors I’ve inevitably made.

Maybe I’m off the mark on all of this. Maybe I’m head-cannoning too much. Maybe I’m just trying to suck out every hint of potential angst out of a song that’s supposed to be sweet and wholesome. That’s for you to decide. But for me, I’ve decided that I’m satisfied with this analysis. In the end, I just needed to express all the thoughts bumbling around in my head SOMEWHERE before I exploded, and unfortunately, I feel like I’ve run all my friends dry talking about this baby to them, so now it’s your turn. But, anyways, I think that about wraps things up. It’s time to go to bed.

Farewell, stay hydrated, and have a lovely rest of your day/night :)

[magnoliasandarson]

birds of a feather pt. 2

Dick wasn’t sure what to make of the Redhood Jason. His baby brother, his Little Wing- back from the dead. He was gloriously and miraculously alive, but there was something different. For one, he was jacked. His Jaybird had been five-foot-nothing when they buried him, but he was now a tank given human form- well over six feet tall, at least two hundred pounds.

Then there was the less obvious. Jason had always been a dynamic fighter, explosive and quick on his feet, but where he once moved like lightning, he now moved like wildfire, fluid and lethal. Dick recognized the brutality, the swiftness. Somehow, Jason had been with the League of Assassins. It was easy to put two and two together; someone had dumped the corpse of his baby brother into the Lazarus Pit. His brother hadn’t turned away from the light; someone turned him. They would pay dearly. 

He went to Bruce immediately and demanded they kill call Talia. But Bruce didn’t react the way Dick expected. He didn’t fly to Nanda Parbat; he didn’t swear vengeance in the name of his son. Instead, he said, “This changes nothing,” and went to find the Redhood, stone-faced and deathly quiet.

Dick hesitated for all of a minute before suiting up and running after Bruce, taking care to stay just out of sight. He’d known Bruce for half his life and had spent about as much time cleaning up his messes; he knew when the elder was going to make a mistake he’d dearly regret. He wanted to be wrong. 

Still, Dick crouched in the rafters of the warehouse and watched. He wanted to sob, wanted to scream, wanted to rage as his Little Wing tossed the hog-tied Joker onto the ground in front of him. Keeping the fucking clown as a barrier between him and his father. His fingers flexed involuntarily around a WingDing as the Joker started cackling, “How sweet! It’s a family reunion!”

Jason yanked his helmet off and tossed it between him and Bruce- no man’s land. In a fucked-up way, Dick almost laughed. Jason was still Jason, even under all the rage and madness. Thank fuck Dick had found and defused that bomb- Jason’d probably go on too long, and they’d be blown to pieces. 

Any semblance of a smile faded away from his face when Jason spoke, “Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he's filled, the thousands who have suffered, the friends he's crippled.” Barbara’s agonized face as she stared at the Batgirl suit from her wheelchair flashed through Dick’s mind. His knuckles popped as he clenched his fists. Jason wasn’t wrong. Dick had believed- had known- what Jason was saying was true; he’d beaten the Joker to death with his bare hands, all for Bruce to bring him back. 

 Dick shifted his weight, ready to drop down in a split-second, “You know, I thought... I thought I'd be the last person you'd ever let him hurt. If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would've done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, death-worshiping garbage and then send him off to hell!” Oh, Jaybird. This was all wrong, all so fucking wrong. Bruce had lost his mind when Jason died; why wasn’t Bruce telling him?

Finally, finally, Bruce opened his mouth, “You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood.” Dick was going to kill Bruce. Then, he was going to cart his brother off to therapy and ice cream.

“What? That your moral code just won't allow for that? It's too hard to cross that line?” So much therapy and so much ice cream. Maybe even a trip to a bookstore. Or an island. Just anywhere but Gotham.

“No! God Almighty, no. It'd be too damned easy. All I've ever wanted to do is kill him. A day doesn't go by that I don't think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he's dealt out to others, and then... end him.” Barbara’s beaten form in a hospital bed, Jason’s tiny grave- Dick felt all too prepared to assume the burden for Bruce.

The Joker laughed again, “Aw, Batsy’s thinkin’ bout lil ol’ me!” Jason slammed a boot into the clown’s side, and Dick found himself almost cheering.

Bruce carried on, too stuck in his self-flagellation and morality, “But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down into that place... I'll never come back.” Boo-fuckin-hoo, Dick would stop Bruce if he went too far. He'd done it before.

“Why? I'm not talking about killing Penguin or Scarecrow or Dent. I'm talking about him, just him. And doing it because... because he took me away from you.” Dick was afraid that if he exhaled, he’d scream. It took him months to realize that Jason wasn’t his usurper- that he was just a kid who needed a family. If Jason thought for a minute that Dick hadn’t wanted to burn the world to ashes-

“I can't. I'm sorry.” Fuck this.

Jason chuckled, low and uneven, and Dick felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, “You don’t have to. I will,” he pulled a gun from his hip, cocked the hammer, and lowered it to point at the Joker’s laughing face, “Him or me, Bruce. Either kill me, or I kill him.” No, no, no, no-

Bruce reached into his utility belt and drew a Batarang- NO

Time slowed. Was this how Wally felt?

Dick launched from the beam-

Jason turned away from the Joker, his mouth opened to speak-

The Batarang glinted in the flickering lights as it flew-

Dick screamed his brother’s name, arm outstretched-

“JASON!”

A river of red opened and poured out of Jason’s neck-

Jason fell to the ground, clutching his throat-

Dick was frozen. He was standing on solid ground. His brother was bleeding out ten feet away, with the Joker howling in laughter on the ground next to him. Dick could sense Bruce Batman behind him. Unmoving.  

It wasn’t something many people acknowledged- even in his own family- but Dick Grayson was a weapon given skin. He had trained with Raptor, Lady Shiva, and Deathstroke. They didn’t specialize in nonlethal force. Dick had mutilated, tortured, and killed in the name of justice. Batman just killed his brother. Carelessly, he flicked a Wingding into the Joker’s neck, slicing his carotid like Jason’s.

"Let him go," Dick triggered his escrima stick, sparks of blue crackling into existence, "now."

He turned to face the man he had loved as a father who killed his brother, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and steady, “You killed my brother.” Blue lightning crackled into existence, drowning out the sound of the Joker’s dying giggles.

Bruce’s Batman’s face was carved from stone, even as he raised his fists, “You broke the code.”

“Fuck your code,” Dick launched himself at Batman, escrima sticks raised, “he was your son!”

Once upon a time, many years ago, Bruce had taught Dick to fight, but Dick wasn’t trying to fight his former mentor; he was trying to kill him. Batman swung at Nightwing, aiming to shatter bone and rend flesh. They had crossed the point of no return, and they both knew it, “He came back wrong.”

Dick roared in rage, primal and furious, not speaking a word, slamming a well-placed kick into Batman’s weak knee. He was done talking. He’d tried to talk to Bruce Batman for years. If the old man wanted to fight someone, he’d be reminded why Nightwing was his contingency plan.

Batman fell to one knee, slashing out with a Batarang, but Nightwing caught it with an escrima stick, knocking it from the elder’s hand, and slamming the other into the side of his head. Dick dodged a sloppy punch, flipping out of the way with agility Batman could never match. 

“Stand down, Nightwing,” Batman bellowed, “That’s enough!” He staggered back to his feet, catching the younger in the ribs with a gauntleted fist. The force of the punch threw Dick, tossed him through the air onto his back on the ground, a pained gasp leaving his lips.

Dick snarled, a horrifying imitation of the smile he was famous for, “Never again.” He’d never stand down again, not for Batman. He launched into the air off his shoulders, his feet connecting with the Bat symbol, knocking Batman onto the concrete. 

Nightwing knelt on the Batsuit, pressing a Wingding into his throat, “You slit his throat.” Tears blurred his vision as he cut through the armor, the blade touching his former mentor’s skin, drawing a single drop of beaded blood. 

“Dad?”

In a heartbeat, Dick was on the floor between the Joker’s corpse and his brother. He thought he was dead; he didn’t check- “Jason,” the word left his bloody lips like a prayer, “fuck, Jason.” He pressed his fingers to his brother’s throat- there was a thick scar under the gore but no open wound. Jason’s pulse was fast and erratic- but it was there.

“Dickie?” Jason’s voice was small, croaky. Batman had probably cut into his vocal cords when he threw that stupid Batarang. (You should call them Batarangs- like Bat and Boomerang!)

“I’m here, Little Wing,” tears dripped off his chin onto his brother’s face, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Distantly, Dick heard Batman jump out of a window. He didn’t care. He was holding his brother, his blessedly alive brother, fuck Batman. Birds of a feather stuck together.