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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

JJK men with a big-chested reader

Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)

Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍

Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!

Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭

Click here to get to the small-chested version

Nanami Kento

You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.

“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”

Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.

You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.

This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.

“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.

“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”

You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.

“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”

You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.

“Listen, darling.”

He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.

“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”

“No!”, you blurt out immediately.

Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.

“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”

“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“

“I’m afraid.”

You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-

“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”

He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.

“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?

“Let me make a few things clear.”

He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?

“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“

“You didn’t even see them yet.”

“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.

“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”

Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.

“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”

Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?

You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.

“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.

His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.

Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.

“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.

You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.

“Going to bed sounds good…”

Geto Suguru

You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.

What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.

But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.

“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”

“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”

“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”

You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…

“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“

“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”

You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.

He deserves to know it

“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“

“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.

But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?

“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”

His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.

“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.

There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.

“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.

A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…

Your breasts.

What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.

God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”

You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.

“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.

“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”

Yuji/Sukuna

You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.

Just like right now.

“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.

Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.

“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.

“What a slut”, another voice mutters.

“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”

Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.

“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.

“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“Look, the cow brought her friends!”

“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”

“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”

Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.

You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?

“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”

Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?

“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.

“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”

“I won’t let you-“

Enough.

“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”

That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-

“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.

“And you.”

With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.

“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.

Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?

“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.

“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“

In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?

“Get going”, he barks at you.

“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.

“And give Yuji back.”

“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”

“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.

“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”

You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?

“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.

“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.

Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.

What?

“N-No”, you stumble.

How are you supposed to get over this?

Gojo Satoru

Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.

Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.

“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.

A cocktail, exactly what you need today.

“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.

What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.

“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.

You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”

Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.

Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:

Your boobs.

Is the man sitting next to you one of them?

“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”

Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.

“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.

While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.

“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?

“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.

“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”

The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-

You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.

“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”

His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.

“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.

“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.

Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.

“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”

With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.

“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.

“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”

When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?

“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”

“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”

A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.

“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.

“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.

“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.

Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.

“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.

“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.

“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.

“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”

“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”

“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”

He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.

“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”

“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.

“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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taegularities · 3 months

Text

entertainer (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: Growing singer Jeon Jungkook is as charismatic as he is self-absored – that is, until he meets you. Caught in a web of secrets, he finds a riddle in you he urges to solve; even ready to turn the spotlight towards you until nothing remains… but regret.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: strangers to lovers (or something); angst, bits of fluff, smut ➳ warnings: do not fall for this jk i repeat do not f– 🚨 he's kinda hot though; (not so) silent yearning, flirting, sexual tension, he is so attracted to her :'), mystery, oc is a big question mark, full jk pov!, dark past(s), crying, fear, confrontation and fighting, cocky kook, secrets and revelations, explicit sexual content (kissing, fingering, teasing, drunk shenanigans, sooo much lust, big dick jk, etc.), more warnings on drop day once the fic is finished!! not much for the teaser itself, though <3 ➳ wc: 1.8k :') (around 20k for the full thing) ➳ a/n: scratches head. this has been a long time coming and i'm beyond curious how y'all will like it :') very new and experimental, so let's see how it goes!! as always, drop a message to lmk what you think of this lil glimpse, i'll be waiting with dangling feet hehe!! <3

➳ give the Entertainer playlist a first listen! 🖤

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs

“Why are you the textbook definition of a fuckboy, honestly.”

“Fuckbo—”

“Nevermind.”

If he wasn’t well acquainted with this little game, he would’ve missed your subtle, nearly veiled intent to tease. But he’s done that a million times before — hence, catches the faint twitch of your gorgeous lips immediately.

You’re enjoying this. So he should join… right?

Yet.

You’re not being entirely insincere. In fact, he hates how he picks up on the note of truth in your velvety voice.

Trimmed nails scratch the back of his head, and he barely notices once the two of you halt in front of another piece of work. Distracted, he doesn’t bear the art any mind, instead asking, “You really think of me like that?”

You shrug a shoulder. Nonchalance a constant feature, but so natural, even somewhat gentle, that he can’t help but feel drawn to you. “A little.”

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the art.”

“Sure.”

Reluctantly, he glances to the canvas. It’s a mess of hues; a random arrangement of spontaneous emotions. Resembles the masterpieces he used to create in Microsoft Paint, back when his legs would still dangle off the chair.

“So,” he starts, nodding towards the painting, “what do you see in this?”

You hesitate. Or maybe it’s not hesitation — more like… a thinking pause. Sometimes, when Jungkook notices a whirring mind, he sees a steaming brain through a skull. Working at full blast.

But somehow, he only recognises a tranquil ocean as he observes you gather your thoughts. Everything about you is tender, but wrapped in dark mystery.

How much mental training does it require to become this inscrutable?

When you finally speak, you’re saying similarly odd things.

“I see… colours.” Right. Stating the obvious. Jungkook chuckles, delivering a head tilt. “And am wondering how the painter got to create this at all. I mean, this looks so meaningless at first, doesn’t it?”

“But it’s not, yeah?”

“We’re fast to think that. Most of the time, there must be a trigger, or a thought on something, no matter how small. Something might have been bothering him. This is—” A hand gestures towards the painting. “Such a chaotic mind.”

Interesting…

“Is this what you usually think about all day?” Jungkook wonders.

You scoff. “I’m just a person, too. I think about a lot of random things.”

“Ahhh. Like what?”

“Like… seeing all the green in this exhibition made me realise how that colour makes me cry.”

Jungkook takes a haphazard look around. Now that you say it — there’s no hint of a nature theme, but the abundance of green is striking. It’s as calm as you. No wonder you’d immerse yourself in a showcase such as this.

You continue, as if tracing and reading his mind like an open novel, “It’s soothing, right? And unique. These earthly things sometimes make me feel like not all of us are deserving of seeing such beauty. Like it should be reserved for those who've earned it.”

Earned it? How?

Jungkook can’t see your thoughts as clearly as you’re apparently capable of doing, but he has an inkling of what you might mean. Truly dazzling souls merit the stunning bloom of the world, right?

And then…

If that’s what it is.

He wonders — do you think he deserves to see the colour green? Or is it already over if he has to ask? Perhaps, should he be perceiving it as grey right now? He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know how you think of him — doesn’t know anything about you at all. You’re a tough nut to crack.

“Hmm… that’s a way to think about it,” he says.

“Only because it’s the same for people. And I’ve had this thought about humans a lot… I…” You hesitate, blink, and then grant him your gaze. “I knew someone who was the colour green. Not everyone deserved them, either.”

Someone…

Poetic minds carry a certain pain in their eyes.

He’s been seeing it in yours. He just doesn’t know how to handle it. So he doesn’t. Yet.

Instead, he asks, “What else are you thinking about?”

“Uhmmm,” you voice, straightening your back a little, as if waking up from a dream — a nightmare? “I’ve been thinking about trying that, too. Painting, I mean. It doesn’t have to mean anything or be good. Just a great way to capture something that resonates with what I feel.”

Every word you’ve uttered today was otherworldly. You didn’t talk like this when you were at the meeting, or in his office. Your soul is somewhat free-floating here, and he doesn’t understand why.

And it’s a behaviour he usually strays away from. The vulnerable ones can be dangerous.

But somehow… you’re too strong of a magnet.

One who shrugs all the puzzles away — and he sighs in despair. Maybe it’s not time to find out what you feel just yet. What resonates with you — even though he’s dying to hear it.

He inquires, “Are you always this much of an open book?”

“No. Not at all.” Of course not. Rhetoric question — he knows this much. “But I like thinking out loud sometimes.”

“I’m glad to be a sounding board then.”

“Hah. Well, I was also thinking how I appreciate that I met you here.” Pause. Oh? What a surprise. Strokes his ego, though. And then, out of the blue again, “You wanna go to the museum restaurant?”

Jungkook has barely inhaled half of the exhibition yet. But just for today, he couldn’t care less.

Perhaps this is enough for now, visiting the overpriced restaurant, watching you from afar as you inspect your nails calmly. You’re not busy on your phone like the rest of the crowd — entertained by the same media that he’s part of.

Maybe he can be a bigger part of their lives one day — be the one flitting over their screens, the one they adore. The one they worship.

But you don’t seem to indulge in those mind-numbing devices for now. You might be an addition to his team, but privately, you float in your own world. Distracted by the thoughts you won’t disclose.

Your hands retreat, arms crossing on the table and lips curling into a smile once he strolls back to you. Satisfied, he informs you, “One cake to go with the coffee. As the lady suggested.”

“Oh. One?” you ask, “Don’t you want one?”

“I do.”

“So…” You stall, and he waits until it clicks, your head tilting in understanding. “Are we sharing?”

Jungkook lifts a thumb, pointing over his shoulder, back to the register, “Those chocolate cakes are sweet as hell. I’ve got a sweet tooth, but believe that it’ll be enough for us two.”

You laugh — a candied, disarming chuckle before you breathe an, “Alright.”

Jungkook doesn’t know you well enough to feel any skip of his heart; yet, you stir something else in his mind. While he does avoid them, it’s still always people like you who intrigue him the most — those who veil themselves in a coat of secrets.

He sighs.

“That was fast,” you note, eyes at a point behind him.

And he understands when the waitress arrives a couple moments later, serving two perfectly prepared cappuccinos and a mouth-watering chocolate fudge piece.

You thank her with a gentle smile, and tuck a hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your dangling silver earring.

And he watches.

Watches as you nod towards him, urging him, “Start then.”

Observes your smile as he signals you to start instead. And he gazes at you as your delicate digits reach for the fork, tearing off a piece, wrapping your lips around the utensil.

And then… oh God.

He feels his guts twist; hears all background noise fade; blood rushing away from his head.

All the way through his body as you slowly relish the sweetness and then drag the wet tip of your tongue over the fork. Licking away the leftover chocolate.

Jungkook swears it happens in slow motion. And witnessing your elegance in snail’s pace… makes him sick.

When your eyelashes flutter, gape lifting to meet his, the sound around him comes alive again — as does he. He averts his stare from your mouth, covered in the same colour as the coffee, but you notice.

You catch him looking. And it makes you… smile? Shit.

But you don’t boast your effect; only digress as you say, “Well… tastes as fancy as it looks. Try.”

You’re as relaxed with him as you can be. But you always are; with everyone. He craves that bit that’s only reserved for him — and maybe he’s too zealous too fast. He hasn’t known you for long.

Making you smile must be an achievement, though, right? If only… you didn’t think of him like…

He nods, and then leans over the table ever-so-slightly. His knees brush against yours, a soft but deliberate move. He places an elbow on the table, grasping the fork, close to you. If he lifted his hand, he could touch your cheek.

He wishes he could.

His eyes meet yours through his bangs, the cake’s taste irrelevant to your presence. And when his ego doesn’t let him live, he finally asks, almost as if insulted, “Do you actually perceive me as a fuckboy?”

The question catches you off guard. You hesitate, furrowing your eyebrows, and then giggle before questioning back, “Jungkook… that’s bothering you this much? Mmmh. How would you like to be perceived?”

“Just. As a decent guy who wants to get to know you. And I know you know.” You blink, but he doesn’t buy it. So he elaborates, “I’ve been trying to make clear that I find you interesting. And somewhat attractive.”

People usually display a flicker of glimmer in their eyes upon hearing such praise. But you don’t budge; in fact, your eyes remain the same, if not a little darker. Why?

Yet, you cock an eyebrow, sporting a teasing, playful tone, “Somewhat, hm?”

He shakes his head, clicks his tongue.

“You’re pretty and I think you know,” he blurts, “and I don’t want to screw up right away.”

Is it the habit of never failing; getting what he wants? The urge to solve an enigma? The chance to dive into you until you’re bared to him? Why are you so interesting to him?

You’re just a person.

Maybe it’s just the unsettling need to discover what you’re hiding — it won’t let him rest. There’s something about you that screams to him to unravel.

He doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t know if you’re even from the same world as him — even though you seem to have crossed his realm before.

No matter what it is; Jungkook only understands for now that he wants to take off your layers.

Wants you to be the colour green for him.

wrote most of it now and while sick, so it might change hehe! but i hope it's okay so far, and it shall only get better!! i'm so so excited for this, like i've been working on it and putting thought into it since october, so i hope it's worth the wait <3

as always, send your thoughts, questions, complaints lol lemme know what you think or i might perish sniff. super curious to know!! also, here's the taglistttt 🤍 love and appreciate you all <3

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook

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fandomobbsessedb · 2 months

Text

Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader

AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!

I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.

⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p

Reader is referred to with afab terms.

Pt2-

================================

• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.

• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.

•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?

“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…

“Welcome to Hell!!!”

“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.

“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.

“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…

“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”

“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”

“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…

“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.

“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.

“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“

SPLAT-

“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.

“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….

• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.

• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?

• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him

Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~

• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.

I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.

"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."

"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.

"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.

"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.

"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.

• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"

• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.

• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.

• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!

• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.

• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.

• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.

• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.

• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.

——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-

• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.

*knock knock knock*

*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*

"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.

"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.

"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.

"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.

"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.

Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.

"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-

"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-

*CRASH *

“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?

“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.

Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…

“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE

I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….

• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~

“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“

“Get her ba-“

“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“

• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.

Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER

REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE

#headcannons #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel oneshots #short story #part 2?

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golbrocklovely · 6 months

Text

cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock one shot #colby brock oneshot #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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gothsugarbunnidisco · 2 months

Text

lawlight fic rec list

so i’m gonna do a series of these, starting with my favorite death note ship! make sure to pay attention to all warnings on these fics. enjoy! if you have a ship you’d like me to make a rec list for, please just send me an ask! i don’t want to be obnoxious, and i’m not saying they’re good, but i (slackjawbitch on ao3) have some lawlight fics up!

♡ = a favorite of kitty’s

angst

♡ 1. i’m drowning; please save me: L looks at Yagami Light and drowns. There is no other way to put it. As the days pass and blend into weeks, L looks at Yagami Light sitting next to him, the harsh lines of his face creased and determined, and he swallows water.

L looks at Yagami Light and he cannot breathe.

great characterization, always makes me very emo, and is probably a pretty major influence on my writing. one shot. 1,817 words.

2. always waiting for you just to cut to the bone: And then, breaking through the pounding in his head he hears what would be the last words out of that wretched man’s lips.

“I love you.”

fic for teh death note drama (2016) canon! title is unfortunately from a t*ylor sw*ft song (/silly) but this fic is so good and sad.

3. Our Bodies, Possessed By Light: L. Lawliet is a gifted photographer who believes he has understood the light and its secrets. Light Yagami is a young, unstable and slightly crooked model. Together, they kill time.

modeling and photography au. make sure to read all teh tags and warnings for this one; there’s nothing gross, but some potentially triggering subjects for some people are in here. multi chapter. 81,218 words.

4. Hearts and Spades: Which would you choose? Love or death? RaitoL, slight AU.

short but sweet piece featuring that classic fanfiction dot net era vibe, an emo-ass playing card metaphor (/pos), and a recounting of l’s death scene that made me sad over him all over again (also /pos). and also light being obnoxious, but it’s death note, so that’s usually a given, lol. one shot. 1,801 words.

5. Not Quite Drowning: Sometimes Light ponders happiness. L/Light

a short lawlight and light character study. i like it a lot, and i don’t usually like light, so that should tell you something about how well i think it’s written! one shot. 424 words.

♡ 6. Water, water, water: In the bath, they forget they’re a detective and a suspect; they remove these identities along with their clothes, layer by layer until there are only the handcuffs left. And them; facing the other in the eerie calmness of their bathroom.

At least, it’s how Light sees it.

i really love this one! make sure to read teh tags, as eating disorders and drugs are mentioned, for example. angst with a happy ending! one shot. 3,504 words.

fluff

1. Silver Bells: Silver bells...silver bells...

They’ve made it. Everything is okay now, when they’re dancing in the candlelight.

really, really cute! i recommend it as a palate cleanser to make you feel better after reading a sad one, lol. one shot. 1,255 words.

♡ 2. New Year’s Eve: "I've seen fireworks before," he says. "This is... so much... more."

just a cute little new year’s eve lawlight fireworks show! this one is also from 2009 which is kinda cool to me, haha. i like this author’s descriptive language a lot. one shot. 507 words.

♡ 3. Do Gay Penguins Go to Hell?: Too many New Year snacks bring about a family discussion between L, Raito and their daughter about healthy diet, common sayings and nature of good and evil. And gay penguins, of course. AU

a really darling kid fic, based on teh stupid, homophobic controversy over that adorable kids’ book about teh gay penguin couple. one shot. 3,791 words.

4. A Feeling: It's LxLight fluff! This takes place after Light was confined and lost his memories, chained to L. : D SO YUS. SOME FLUFF FOR YAH D: Hope you leik it :D

very cute “l and light cuddle and kiss” fic, written by a scene kid in 2008, which is extra points with me! one shot. 1,006 words.

alright! i will add to this rec list as i find more fics, and i would love it if people would send in their favorite lawlight fics!

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moose-muffin · 3 months

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im new here (hiya from the hazbin tag lol) but if you do character + character requests than please PLEASE gimmie a lee!vox with ler!alastor 🙏🙏🙏hear me out... the two are fighting and al (sHocKINglY) wins out, and vox expects to like.. be beaten into the ground as a result, but nope!! he gets tickled!!! to tears!!!! smthn smthn he wasnt smilin and, yk, youre never fully dressed w/o a smile!!!

/nf to do tho ty for reading!!! <3<3

OMG OMG HELLO WELCOME I HOPE YOURE DOING GOOD YIPPEE

SO FUN FACT I WAS VERY LIKE NEUTRAL TO RADIOSTATIC BUT TONIGHT HAS BEEN (HAHAH GET IT) AN ADVENTURE AND THIS ROAD HAS BEEN SUCH A BLAST <3 THOSE TWO FUCKERS ARE SO INSTIGATIVE ITS CRAZY.

I KNOWWWW THIS AS A FIC WOULD GO C R A Z Y!!!!! IDK IF ANYONE HERE WRITE FOR VOX AND ALASTOR AND PERHAPS DOES COMMISSIONS BUT I WILL PAY!!!! PLEASE HIT ME UP OR ILL PROBABLY GO TAKE A PEAK FOR MYSELF TMR <3 AS LONG AS THATS OK ANON. (I WILL ABSOLUTELY LET IT BE POSTED AS LONG AS THE AUTHOR IS OK WITH IT WHICH USUALLY THEY ARE!!!!) IM GONNA TAKE SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES AS I TYPICALLY DO HEADCANONS!

IM NOT USUALLY A CHARACTER + CHARACTER GIRLY SO BEAR WITH ME BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST!!!! HOPEFULLY I CAN DO THIS JUSTICE! IT WILL BE RANDOM HCS THAT ARE UNRELATED TOO. MY BRAIN IS A MESSY PLACE HWBSHWDBD

OK SO LIKE I KINDA MENTIONED, THEY BOTH LOOOOVE TO JUST GET UNDER PEOPLES SKIN. LOVE IT!!! ESPECIALLY ALASTOR. HES SUCH AN ASS (affectionate)

I’D EVEN SAY HE’S KIND OF AN INSTIGATIVE LER???? BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO GET TO TICKLE VOX LIKEEE IDK IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE BUT I KNOW ITS TRUE. HE WILL CASUALLY WIGGLE HIS FINGERS IN CONVERSATION, TWEAK HIS RIBS FROM BEHIND, LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT. WELL THEYRE NOT LITTLE. ESPECIALLY NOT TO VOX WHO IS SO FLUSTERED BY IT… ITS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING

BUT! VOX HAS STARTED TO FIGURE IT OUT. AS HE IS ALSO ONE WHO LOVEEES TO GET UNDER SKIN, HE DECIDES HE’LL DO EVERYTHING TO TRIGGER A LER MOOD IN ALASTOR. IF HE CAN TELL HE ALREADY HAS ONE, HE FINDS WAYS TO SUBTLY (WE ALL KNOW HE ISNT SUBTLE THOUGH) LEAVE A SPOT UNPROTECTED. BUT ALASTOR DOESNT WANT TO GIVE HIM THE SATISFACTION!!! HE TRIES SO HARD TO NOT GIVE IN TO VOX BC HE “WANTED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL” AND NOW HE ISNT AND HES #PISSED

ALSO VOX ABSOLUTELY IS HORRIFIED OF VULNERABILITY. YET HE IS ABLE TO MOVE PAST IT WITH ALASTOR HERE. SOMEHOW HE ISNT AS WORRIED ANYMORE. MAYBE HE KNOWS ALASTOR WILL REACT. HE LOVES THAT SO VERY MUCH.

AS FOR THE SPECIFIC PROMPT, OH THAT IS SO REAL!!!! ABSOLUTELY YES!!!

I DONT WRITE GOOD ROMANCE BUT LIKE UGH IMAGINE IT NOW. Alastor definitely just got himself to the V’s tower and was planning on fucking with Vox only to see he had already been kinda pissed off. Alastor wouldn’t be as satisfied if he knew he didn’t cause the frustration. He realized he could just stir the pot again. Problem solved, and what better way to solve it than using his weakness against him.. being tickled.

I’m being a little silly but genuinely Vox is so ticklish. Like most ticklish person in hell would go to him if it were an official title. That’s what I’m thinking. That being said, Alastor also knows how quickly he could get him to crumble… but wouldn’t it be more fun to take it slow.

Vox notices his presence almost immediately. He tried to ignore it as he feels his face get warm. He can’t fuck this up. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “Why hello, Alastor! What brings you to our building this evening?” He said in a semi newcaster voice. He wasn’t ready to drop the act

“Well Vox, I came here for a reason of my own but then I walked by your office and you looked so sad!” He began to walk closer to Vox. “You know, t they say you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

Vox let out a laugh that was quite clearly untruthful. “Yes Alastor I am aware! I was alone in here and so I figured I’d just save up some energy. I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite frankly I don’t,” Alastor paused, “I think maybe I could help you get that smile back.”

Vox didn’t even have to think. He knew Alastor meant he was going to tickle him. You could ask Velvette. She’s seen those two in tickle fights that lasted for DAYS. she knows what they’re capable of, or more so what Alastor is capable of.

Vox puts up a fight for maybe a couple seconds but he just loves tickles more than he can play pretend that he doesn’t <3

It works out well for them both, Alastor gets to fuck around with Vox and well, Vox gets his shit rocked!!! And he loves that more than a lot of things.

OK IM GONNA CUT IT OFF HERE BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME BACK!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!! MAYBE ID DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN OR LIKE ADD ONTO THIS!!! BUT I AM JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE CURRENTLY HEHE. I HOPE THESE ARE ENJOYABLE!!! (LOWKEY I WANNA ADD MORE TO THISSSS MAYBE TMR MAYBE TMR WE’LL SEE)

apologies if anything is ooc, i just do this for funsies <3

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASKK

#madi’s answers!!#hazbin hotel tickle #madis hcs up in here #lee!vox #ler!alastor #AM I BECOMINF A RADIOSTATIC FAN…????#I THINK I AM TEHEHEHE #radiostatic tickle

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rennorthernlights · 4 months

Text

The World We Knew

Chapter 1: Radioheart, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

Trigger warnings; Zombies, mentions of death, very brief mention of suicide in the very beginning.

You can also go to AO3 for RenNorthenLights. I post more on there than here. If you go to my AO3 than PLEASE look at the tags for this fic! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

——————————————————————————————

October-ish, 2023. Time??? Location???

It’s become almost routine now.

Waking up at the ass crack of dawn, checking her backpack, cleaning her rifle, making sure the ‘room’ she’s in is safe. Over a year ago she wouldn’t be up this early. Over a year ago she wouldn’t even be touching her fathers rifle without permission. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. In this sense, life threw a massive curve ball at everyone and everything. The world as she knew it become sick with disease— No, not COVID-19, though many speculated that it was the reason, the beginning of it all. No it was the dead-come-back-to-life-and eat-your-face kinda disease. Normally people bring up that type of disease in conversations with speculations on the “what if” scenarios of what they’d do.

Many of her college friends all had plans and ideas and yet most of them now roam the streets looking for the next person to chomp on. Ironic isn’t it? She never believed she’d live this long hell many times the conversation of “Quick a zombie apocalypse happens! What do you do?!” She’d laugh and says she’d die in the next month or two. To which her friends would moan and groan because surely “You wouldn’t give up so easily?? Come onnnn what would you actually do.” She’d think it over and before putting much thought, she said.

“I’d kill myself.” Her friends went silent before laughing at how serious she sounded and even she laughed. A good banter back and forth as her college friends sipped on cheap booze. “No, no, but in all seriousness. I’d stay with my parents. My dads a police Captain after all. He’s taught me how to shoot before I could write and my ma… well she’ll probably teach me something.” Snorting a chuckle since her moms a teacher. One of her friends asks what she’d do if her parents became zombies.

“Well I guess I’d try to find groups to stay in. What do y’all think? I guess I’d put up with y’all.” Nudging her friend playfully on the shoulder. Laughter in the room as the music starts playing and the cheep booze starts kicking in. As her friends dance and sing to “Only Girl in the World” by Rihanna she sits on the couch in deep thought. Her drink in hand as she thinks bout her life. Thinks about her finals coming up and how she’s gotta take all the tests to become a nurse. Both her parents were exceptionally happy that she didn’t follow in their footsteps.

“I love kids but please… do not become a teacher.” Her mother sounded so exhausted when they spoke early on the phone. “And don’t become a police officer!” Her father yells in the background. The running joke for every phone call even though her parents are well aware that she’s going to be a nurse. She’s been deadset on it since she was a kid. She doesn’t plan on telling her ma that she’s gonna try and apply to be the school nurse where her ma works. Sipping her booze some more as the apple news on her phone pings “Reports of a New Virus, Scientists say… ”

She huffs, reading the first couple of paragraphs before getting bored and exiting out of the article. “Probably another variant of COVID. Great another shot I’m gonna have to take.” Turning her phone off and chugging her drink before she starts dancing with her giggly and much too drunk friends.

————————————————————

Oh how life turned so fast and so quickly the following week. Nearly half of the friends in the room became the first percentages of “Turned” and the other half “Missing, have you seen them?” She barely made it out herself. But that’s life. Cruel and beautiful and so, so lonely in the world she now knows. She stays too long thinking about it and she’ll drown. She doesn’t want to think about her friends, her home, her… family. It’s still too much even after all this time. Even with it being well over a year it still hurts.

Shaking her head of those thoughts as she gets situated. Glad that she triple checked the ‘room’ she’s in. Her anxiety has been through the roof these last couple days and every lil noise is having her jump. At least she can put her mind at ease since she’s checked and barricaded the exit. A couple deads outside that she handled quickly. Who knew that she’s be so proficient with a bat and knife? She’s a good shot but before a to keep her rifle hidden. Not many bullets being made anyways..

She turns her radio on as she waits for it to come to life. For months she been speaking on it. Using it as a dairy of sorts, it helps her when she feels the loneliest. Helps when the days feel colder than what it typically does in Texas. She spoke and spoke until one day it started speaking back. The man on the radio commented how he’s been hearing her speak and at first, he and his group thought it was a hoax since they couldn’t get the radio to work. She didn’t speak on it for days, but the men would still speak back and call out to her.

Finally, she worked up the courage to speak back and from then on, they’ve become a part of her routine. Once a day around noon they’d speak. She has her rules, No names, no locations, no descriptions. She doesn’t want to get attached only to one day not hear them speak back again. She doesn’t need another name added to her list of grief. That, and as much as she wants to trust them, she knows that humans can be just as dangerous if not more so.

“Static, come in Static.” She grins as she sits in the office room that she’s been sleeping in. Stretching her legs as she’s never gotten used to the floors even after all this time. Her legs stiff as her other hand rubs her knee. The radio crinkles and scratches until finally.

“Must you keep calling me that?” The man speaks, the heavy Scottish accent shining through, and she can just tell he’s grinning. “I’ve told ya, mah name is Joh- “

“No,” she cuts him off as she clicks on the button. “No names. I don’t... I don’t want to hear it, please.” She’s told him before that she doesn’t want to hear his name. He’s been understanding but sometimes he’ll still try it... The thought that there is an actual person behind the radio scares her and intrigues her. Hearing someone even through all this mess makes it all bearable even if it’s just by a little bit. “Don’t make me ‘hang up’.” A lighthearted threat. She wouldn’t actually do that. She needs her daily talks with them.

“I know, Bonnie, I know,” the voice speaks with understanding. The man knows all too well on why it’s easier to stay nameless, easier to not be attached incase the voice one day doesn’t speak back. “But one day I would love ta hear my name from your pretty voice.” The voice chuckles, “Where are ya now?” A hopeful tinged to his voice.

“You know I don’t give locations, Static.” Singing back her words with a furrow of her brow. “But… I’m in an office building.”

“Ah, I see that’s become a fan favorite of yours.” A tease in the man’s voice. “Oh, it seems my friend wants to speak to ya.” Her eyes perk up as she knows who is about to speak.

“Electricity!” She smiles big and she just knows Static is rolling his eyes.

“Sunshine haven’t heard from you since, Static,” emphasizing the other man’s nickname and she can practically hear the glare. “has been hogging you.” Electricity, as she’s been calling him even though he’s also tried to get her to call him by his name, has a much softer voice. Calmer and levelheaded compared to Static who's more outgoing and louder. She’s called them the duo 1 and duo 2 before she called them Static and Electricity. Much to their annoyance and amusement, much better than her other idea of calling them Thing 1 and Thing 2.

“Well next time hit him or something.” She smiles as she can hear Static mouthing off something. Probably Static telling him where she’s been in for a bit. “In an office building again? That seems to be your usual, yeah?” The man speaks lowly. His words concerned and yet with the subtleness of memorizing something.

“Am I that predictable, Electricity? She stands up from where she was sitting. “Static said something similar.”

“Not predictable just doing what you always do, Sunshine.”

“That’s… That means I’m being predictable.” She teases as he stammers.

“No, no, I meant that you are more comfortable with what you know to be safe.”

“Soooo predictable with my safety?” She teases as she can hear him muttering “bollocks” like he always does when, she assumes, he is flustered. “I’m pulling your leg, Electricity. Just messing around and being a brat.”

He laughs and sighs in relief. His voice cool like the summer breeze after a rainy day. “So where are you?” His voice sounding slightly insistent.

“No where near you.” Rolling her eyes as they always ask the same questions everytime they talk. “Quit askin, I’m fine on my own. I don’t do groups and you know why.” She’s told them about her run in with the only group she’s been with. Handmaidens Tale meet zombie apocalypse and she barely got out.

“I know, I know, you’ve done well on your own, but a little help goes a long way, Sunny.” Sometimes she wishes she would hate the nicknames that they give her but it does give a warm fuzziness in her stomach whenever they say it. Sighing as she speaks back. “Oh yes because you’re military right?” A bit of sarcasm in her voice as this is one of her questions that she always asks.

“Taskforce 141, Special Operation Forces, you already know this, Lass.” The other man speaks making her jolt. Guess he was listening in when she was speaking to Electricity.

“Yeah, yeah, just making sure you’re not lying and trying to sound more badass than you both already do.” Remarking quickly as a light blush spread on her face. The way he’s speaking sounds deeper. Like she’s in trouble somehow and he’s going to correct her.

“We know, Sunshine, we know you just want to be safe. It’s hard to trust especially with the dead around.” Electricity’s speaks softly, the cool to Static’s heat, “But to say it again; Joh— I mean, Static, is a Sergeant and I am also a Sergeant. Static is an expert in demolitions and trained as a sniper. I myself am an expert with prime target eliminations and covert surveillance.” He says it so sincerely and she has half a mind to believe him.

“And why are you all the way in Texas then?” They’ve told her how they moved up here and she knows the reason, but she wants them to say it again.

“We received word that a base, Fort Sam Houston, was working on a cure for the zombie virus. The BAMC is a hospital within that fort that was conducting research.” Electricity sites off the very thing that they’ve repeated for the last month.

“And?” She makes a go on motion that they can’t see but she knows that they can imagine that’s what she’s doing.

“But when we got there it was already over run and Kyl— I mean Electricity almost got killed in the process.” Static says, he sounds upset. “We’ve been over this, Lass. We tell you about the same things over and over again.” A hushed murmur from Electricity is heard and she starts feels bad.

“I know… I’m sorry, I just...” she starts off as she tries to not sound upset. “I just want to make sure that I can trust you. Last time I did...”

“Handmaidens tale, you’ve told us about it. The leader, Abraham, is a far-right Christian, yes?” Static says the man’s name and she shivers as she gives a tiny yes in reply. “He tried to keep you. To force you to stay with his group and be treated as a... how did you say it?”

“A breading cow.”

“Yes, that,” he sighs deeply on the radio, and she wonders what he and Electricity looks like. Wonders if they are as comforting as their warm voices. Wonders if they have beards or stubbles but her self-imposed rules keep her from asking. “I know it’s a lot, learnin ta trust when it's hard to. We’ve promised since the beginnin ta be honest and if I ever see him.” The threat is laced in his voice but he clears his throat. “Enough of that. We are finally moving to Houston. We acquired a car. A Jeep to be more precise. Any chance we’ll be near ya?”

“You might be…” she says softly as she bites her tongue. The urge to let them come to her gets harder and harder to say no to everyday they speak. “I don’t give locations, Static.”

“I know but can’t blame a man for trying. Oh?” She can hear his eyebrows furrowing as voices in the background speak. They’ve told her that they are a group of 4 in total. She’s never heard the other 2 speak but she can sometimes hear them… they sound funny. “It seems we have to cut this shorter, Bonnie.”

“We’ll speak again tomorrow, Sunshine, we promise.” The other man promises, and she knows they will. They’ve never broken a promise. Never did more than what they couldn’t do from the month that they’ve talked.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow and please,” she stresses the word as she hopes and prays that one day they can meet. That she’ll be brave enough to let them in and find her. “Please be safe. Please don’t get hurt, okay? I’ll metaphorically hit you, I swear I will.”

“Always, Bonnie, we will always be safe. Take care and check corners and windows. Make sure you can quickly get’n and out. Don’t go’n if your gut tells ya not to.” Static says, listing off his advice like he would to a fresh-faced recruit. “Don’t play fair and don’t play kind. Everyone’s an enemy until proven otherwise.” He waits a couple seconds before he passes it to the other man.

“Make sure to pack light and that you can easily grasp your weapon.” Electricity warns. A deep sigh from him before he speaks, “And if you ever… if you ever need help, just... please just tell us. We’ll do whatever we can to come for you, okay?” He waits and waits for her to speak but when she doesn’t, he sighs. He waits another minute and then the radio turns to static signaling the end of their conversation.

“I know,” she says softly as she hears the static of the radio. “Be safe, please be safe.” She murmurs the bits of name that she has overheard them say. Going against her own rules of not saying their names even though she knows it’s half of what their names are. She’s gotten too attached and now… now she’s worried. Worried for men she’s never met and probably never will.

“One can dream,” she rolls her shoulders and bends to stretch. Her stomach growling as she knows it’s about time to eat. Pulling her backpack on the office desk and opening it. A couple cans of food and jerky from gas stations. 2 water bottles and a simple medkit along with an extra shirt and pants. “Okay… raviolis or beans….” Humming as sits and pops open the beans. “I’ll save the raviolis for a special day.”

She’s sat for too long on her ass now it’s time to get a move on. Can’t stay for too long in the same places. Always gotta keep moving to different places. Curse the anxiety that still makes her think that a zombie is around every corner. Guess that’s what she’s been alive for so long.

#simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #141 x reader #poly 141 #ZombieAU #The World We Knew #TWWK #If you go to my AO3 please read the tags #It’s a slow build to when the boys finally meet Reader #No physical descriptions of Reader or a name for Reader #Reader uses She/Her pronouns though #Reader is Texan cause I’m Texan and I haven’t been to most other places so I just set it up in Texas

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rainthespiritual · 19 days

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pt 1 , pt 2

Pre-death Tate Langdon fic PART TWO

btw some trigger warnings for the series as a whole are deffinetly: drug abuse, depression, suicide, and topics similar to that even if they don't show up in this specific part THEY WILL EVENTUALLY so I just want yall to be warned ty

TRIGGER WARNING : Tate langdon is a tw tbh and American horror story in general, smoking, talk of abusive dad and family slightly(it'll be talked abt more in other parts), angst, this part is more tame that the other parts will be, and alot of talk on bullying and angsty teen bullshit yk the drill

summery: Tate invited you to his house and talked to you about wanting to be friends again!

sorry if this is bad I didn't get to edit it cuz im using my phone PLZ ENJOY LETS GET INTO IT YUH

"Meet me here again tommorow, same time."

His words have been repeating in your head since yesterday. I mean yeah almost being caught by a teacher scared you shitless... and you didn't want it to happen again but it seemed almost worth it. the way he makes you feel is worth it. I mean this is the most validated you've felt in months.

You are pulled back to reality, to the smell of musty books and to the sound of the library, "___ you aren't listening again." sighing at your so called friend. you almost snap at her but she continues before you can knowing she now has your attention again. the sound of a distant clock ticking puts you more at ease as you try not to get too deppressed. The library is usually a nice safe space for you but sometimes you are followed, but you just have to deal with it. she goes on for a while before saying something that actually causes you to look up at her,

"Do you see that guy staring at me." she waves her head and your eyes meet Tates. he's sitting down at a distant table with a book in his hands but it's clear he isn't reading it. He smiles when you notice him and its also clear he isn't looking at your friend. He's staring at you.

"Yeah I do Heather.." you break eye contact with him hoping the hotness you feel in your cheeks isn't them turning red. Tate also stops looking in your direction and his attention goes to the book.

"I mean he's cute but he's all quiet and weird, ya know? ..kinda like you." she smiles as you sigh. you aren't quiet she just won't let you get a word in. You look back to the table where Tate was at but he is gone, you look around wondering if he was still in the library but there is no sign of him. not even the book he was reading, he must have taken it. it is common for kids at your school to take books to the tables and leave them if they weren't interested or more likely if they were just trying to seem busy. Tho it being frowned upon it happens quite alot.

"I've gotta go." You gather your things and start to stand.

"..where do you have to go?" Heather your friend scoffs slightly thinking you have nothing better to do.

"I've gotta go to the bathroom actually so.. And class is starting soon, see ya." with that you leave almost as fast as you did yesterday, mostly to avoid more questioning and bitching.

It almost being time to meet Tate you make your way to the bathroom you both were at yesterday. its pretty early but it's nice to have some thinking time. you stare at the door listening making sure no one is coming your way. you'd get questioned deffinetly, especially class starting so soon.. you fidget waiting for the bell to ring but it feels like time is going by way slower than it is. After thinking for a while and the bell not ringing still you decide to go in early, I mean maybe no one's in there? like Tate said almost no one ever comes this way. or maybe Tates there early too? maybe that's why he left the library so soon..

"Tate..?" you walk in slowly praying no one other than Tate is in this bathroom. You cautiously have your eyes closed just incase.

"___?.. You're early, hey." you open your eyes to find a nervous looking Tate.

"Hey yeah I am... is- is that okay, or?" you take a deep breath, the bathroom smells like harsh chemicals and it slightly irritates your nose. "Yeah no its fine, just surprised me is all." what he says makes you feel better and you look up to see him smiling at you, his eyes are red and watery and hes repeatedly wiping his nose.

"is there anything wrong?" you ask genuinely concerned. You seem to notice a wave of sadness on his face, or maybe it was just the smell of this bathroom you felt it irritating your eyes so maybe the same was happening to him? or maybe he was sad, he did tend to look sad. remembering all the small times you looked at him in the halls or at him if he was in the same room as you, he was sad. or atleast not smiling.

"Nothing at all, now that you're here." he walks closer to you, looking down at you.

"me? what do you mean?" you knew exactly what he meant, it just felt so surreal that this tall blonde good smelling guy that just so happened to go to school with you they you also used to be friends with could say this. I mean who would have known. all the boys you were used to interacting with never payed that kind of attention to you.

"I just mean I'm glad you're here. what else would I mean?" you smile again enjoying him saying these things. the validation you felt made you feel great, and he knew exactly what to do to make you feel special. not to say he was lying or anything, he wasn't. His confidence radiated off of him and he knew just what to say.

"well you could mean alot of things." he smirks at your response before pausing.

"Here, sit with me again." He climbs up on the sinks, making sure they aren't wet with his sleeve first. you notice a brownish red stain on his sleeve and decide whether ot not to bring it up. you choose to ignore it climbing up next to him. you take a deep breath noticing how your nose is now used to the harsh chemical smell that is all around the both of you.

"I'm surprised you came," he states looking into your eyes, a weird wave of guilt builds up in your stomach remembering how well you two got along. you truly regret not talking to him and hope you can make up for all the time you two have lost together.

" you know... I think about you all the time." he pushes a section of your hair behind your ear, admiring your face again.

you smile wider at him focusing on his pretty brown eyes. They are so dark and mysterious its not even funny. you also take notice of how dark his undereyes are, he must be tired.

"Is that why you were looking at me earlier? " you nervously smirk watching as he gets up off the counter to stand infront of you.

"we should go to my house." he places his arms on the counter making it so he is looking down on you slightly.

"your house?" you gulp.

"yep, my house," he nods, "we'd have fun I swear. I mean no one's even home." this catches you off guard. I mean a boy inviting you to his house was the last thing you expected to happen. Especially at school, a boy is not only inviting you to his house hes inviting you to ditch school with him at his house.. while no one's home.

"Sure, fuck it!" He leaves first making sure no one is around, you sneak out thanking God no one is around. and somehow you guys make it out without being caught. He leads you and you start to get nervous.

"is- is your house close or?" you gulp feeling a tad bit guilty. You've never missed school on purpose before.

"Actually I was thinking of going somewhere first.." he smirks and puts his hand around your shoulders.

"oh.. where?" the ideas of where he could bring you excited you slightly. The air was clear and the sun was hiding behind some clouds. its a gloomy day yet you were glad you were getting to spend it with Tate, something about him hypnotized you and made you feel ways you never felt before.

"The beach, trust me it's cool. especially on days like this.." he smirks more putting your hand in his, his warm soft touch made you blush. You never felt this way about anyone, he made you feel special.

You both walk in silence just enjoying eachothers company until you make it to the beach. You both sat in the sand admiring the ocean and the gloomy sky.

"do you play hookey alot?" you ask smiling already knowing he often does, you just didn't know what else to say.

"just when I get bored, or sad I guess.. I like to come here, y'know when everything gets too much? I come here.." he sighs looking off into the sea, his eyes are shining with the water and you can't help but to admire his beauty.

"No, I totally get that. I get sad alot too, thats why I go to the library. Usually no one follows me." he frowns looking away in the distance making you unable to look in his eyes anymore.

"y'know.. I don't get why you hang out with those assholes, it's clear they give zero shits about you. all they care about is themselves, even I can tell you that." you frown along with him, you want to tell him off but you can't bring yourself to because in the end... he's right. they don't and never cared about you. they never listen to you about your problems or your feelings. It's always about them them them.

"I know.. that's exactly how it is.. but I have no one else, I'm too scared to be alone." you open up a bit to him about how you feel hoping he will actually listen.

"you wouldn't be alone ___, I'd hang out with you. I mean trust me I'm cooler than all those bitches combined!" he laughs knowing he made you smile.

"then I guess I won't be hanging around them anymore. I got you now." you both smile walking the rest of the way to his house, talking about your past and goofing off.

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #ahs fandom #tate langdon #ahs tate langdon #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon fanfic #tate ahs #tate langdon slaying it ONCE AGAIN #i am cringe but i am free #angst #tate langdon being a sexy smexy baddie rjdjdjdjd #i might have a problem #tate langdon is flowing thru my veins #PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS OR SUGGESTIONS FOR HEADCANNONS AND FANFIC plz

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hydrangea-mon-amor · 1 year

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SWEET INJURIES.

Female! Yandere OC x reader

Trigger warning! Yandere behavior, obsessive behavior, non con physical touch, one sided somnophilia. This work also includes the notion of rape. If you are not comfortable with that please do not read further. (Tell me if i need to add more!) DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Side note — if you read the trigger warning and still were triggered by the content (or any that I’ve wrote) please message me ASAP and tell me about it. This goes for all of my works, but I do not mean harm writing these stories and the content of my blog are dark and heavy. I DO NOT condone this behavior and if any of you see yourself in a situation like this I urge you to seek help.

Summery! You have the perfect life, good grades, a group of friends and a good home life. In your school the popular girl, Valery Magnolia is the daughter of two famous doctors with a hospital in your city. Valery is trained in the arts of medicine and when you suffer from a serious fall you seem to catch the attention of miss popular.

A/N: I think this is the longest fic I’ve wrote so far, anyways enjoy I’ve had a blast writing Valery’s character. Just to put it out there this pictures are not mine and I’ve found all of them on Pinterest. This is unedited as fuck so don’t be surprised if you see many errors. As time goes by I’ll be able to lick them out and fix them, so for now, just enjoy. ❤️

— AGAIN IF ANY OF THE TRIGGER WARNING I LISTED TRIGGERS YOU THEN PLEASE DONT READ FURTHER.

You sit with your friends at a lunch table while you eye miss popular chortle it out with her friends. Valery Magnolia, the highly praised daughter of two famous doctors and the owners of Magnolia Medical Center. Tch. People say she’ll become just as knowledgeable about medicine like her parents, maybe even start her own clinic. But for now, you and her are in high school in your junior year. And besides, it’s public knowledge that she’s dating the quarter back Jaydee B Hallaghar, brother to the famous runway model Dante T Hallaghar. You scoff to yourself, why do you even care? Matter of factly, why are you so fixed on looking at her? You’re being foolish, and you know it.

“I heard she’s killed some people.” You whip your head around at your friend Tylers vicious statement. He stabs a fork in his undercooked meat and the only thing he ate so far were the tatter tots. He seems to notice your bewildered gaze. “Y‘’know, like when she operated on some patients she kinda fucked it up and killed ‘em. Since her parents are rich and famous and a real big deal in our city they were able to cover it up, mostly.”

“Your crazy, she may be a prissy bitch but I don’t think she is a killer.”

“I bet her victims thought that too.”

“Whatever.” You stand up with your tray in hand and you look back to Tyler. “Come on, let’s go to the rooftop.” Tyler again picks at his meat, you don’t know why you know he won’t eat it.

“Won’t we get in trouble? Again?”

“Tyler, we always get in trouble going up there, what’s the difference now.” Tyler pushes his chair back and cocks his head to his rear.

“Like, what if we get suspended or something?”

“Then we’ll just get a break from this hellhole they call ‘school’.”

Your feet dangles of the edge. Your school is only three stories high so everything is fairly close. Even now, the people that are on the ground don’t look as small as some would say. But maybe that’s just because your not high enough. Your friends lays on his back a cigar in his mouth. You don’t tell him that the smell bothers you.

“Do you ever have wet dreams about anyone?” You look at him disgusted.

“You are genuinely such a gross person. Why is every thought you have so lewd?”

“Why isn’t your thoughts lewd enough?” He sits up in a crisscrossed position, throwing his cigar off the roof top he then turns to face you. “So, do you?” You avert your gaze from him.

“Once, but it was about my ex and they were a shit show so I don’t like to think about it.”

“Fair,” Tyler picks at his pocket pulling out another cigar. “I’ve had a few, most of them are about a certain Magnolia girl.” You actually wish to puke.

“No seriously, what’s your obsession with her? Wet dreams? You even know her whole ass schedule and not to mention all the theories you have on her.” Tyler thinks for a moment.

“It was in elementary. We had a school project and you know how I was in school, a total freak! No one wanted to be my partner, no one but Valery. She decided to be my partner when she could’ve just chosen one of her hundred friends. She sometimes smiles at me in the hallways. You think she remembers?”

“So a girl was nice to you once and now you have these intense yucky feelings?” You say nonchalantly.

“Pretty much.”

A few minutes later you hear the school bell and you say your god yes to Tyler because he always leaves first and because you have different classes. But also because you like the view here. The tees sway nice and the grass looks more lively. But when you lift yourself up to finally get to your locker and head to class you feel yourself slip.

Instead of rearing back into the rooftop you sway forth and you find yourself tumbling down. When you hit the floor you hear cracks, not a crack but many all at once at the same time. Blood pools from all parts of your body but you can’t find it in you to scream. Because you can’t. Your throat hurts too much and with every breath you take the more excruciating it is. You hear heels click on the floor rushing to you. It’s your guidance counselor. She screams for you to stay awake and to not sleep but you can’t hear her well, you can’t really see well either. Everything is blurry.

The last thing you feels is your body being shaken and the odd sound of muffled yelling and the beeping of a number being dialed.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You wake with a ache in your head, no it’s not there, it’s everywhere.

You try to sit up straight but the physical pain you feel is so raw you let out a gasp.

“Careful.” A stern voice states from your side. You turn your head to see that it’s none other than Jacob Magnolia, the father to Valery. “What were you thinking trying to commit suicide like that? Twenty of your bones have been fractured and two broken.”

“I didn’t—“

“Please, quiet. When your guidance counselor saw you on the ground do you know who she was with?” You shake your head. “Well, I guess that is to be expected. She was with my daughter. My little girl had to watch an almost dead body.”

“But sir that isn’t my fu—“ Dr. Jacob puts his finger to your mouth to silence you.

“Enough, I already have enough patients to deal with.” It was then that the door to your room creaked open and a girl tepidly stepped inside.

“Daddy? Are you in there? Um, are they alright?”

Well fuck.

Of course, it has to be Valery Magnolia barging into the room like this.

“They’ll be just fine darling. Do you mind watching over them for a bit? I have to check on some of my other patients.” Valery moves inside the room and sits by a chair close to your bed.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Valery’s dad thanks her before stepping out of the room. It is now that she turns to look at you. “Are you alright?”

“Do I look alright? Twenty-two of my bones are fucking gone.” Your voice is dread-filled but funny enough it actually made Valery chuckle.

“They aren’t gone, they are just damaged. They’ll be fine in a couple of months. You can trust me on this.” She gives you a genuine smile.

“Lucky me.” Your voice is muffled but you didn’t really care.

“Do you want some water? I can get you it.”

“Trust me, the only way I’ll be able to have fluids circling my body is through feeding tubes. There is absolutely no way of my standing up, you can trust me on this, I’ve tried.” Again, you’ve managed to get Miss Popular to laugh.

“Well, I can tell you I’ll try my best to make you as comfortable as I am able. My name is Va—“

“Valery yes I know. And I guess this is where I tell that my name is Y/n.” She looks almost taken aback, almost.

“I didn’t know you already knew of me. Can I ask how? We’ve never met each other before.” For the first time meeting her, you wanted to slap her across the face.

“You literally saw my bleeding body on school grounds which should tell you that we are from the same school. Also, I have you in four different periods, and that's besides lunch. But I guess since you’re so popular and loved you don’t have time to notice the background of things. Am I right?” Valery’s lips creased into a thin line before she tried to force them into a lukewarm smile.

“I didn't know you felt so strongly about my reputation at school. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? You’re injured and I’ve already told you I’ll do anything to ensure your maximum comfort. And don’t be weary, I have quite an extensive knowledge of medicine and the human body. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

“Are you sure about that?” Valery places a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to give comfort.

“Let’s not be so hasty to one another, besides it’s the first-way ticket to a sour relationship and I don’t feel in the mood to create an association like that. So please, for my sake and yours let’s be cordial with one another.” as she says this her hand is still in place.

“Will you agree to stop touching me if I agree to let you be my temporary ‘doctor.’” Valery nods her head enthusiastically.

“Fine. But only for a week and then I would like a certified doctor to care for me, for my peace of mind.”

“Of course.”

The first day Valery comes into your room, she comes with a feeding tube. You didn't expect her to take you so seriously but then again you weren't exaggerating so you don't mind.

“You said you needed these? Please be still while I attach this to you.”

“Won't I have to go under for that?” Valery simply gives a tight smile.

“No, not for this case. Anyways, won’t you be good and be still while I apply this to you?” You vehemently cringe internally. But you ultimately let her.

“Good.” She whispers. “I want to ask, how was your life like at school? I mean, since I am considered popular and student body president I had a lot of pressure and work to do. I wonder what it’s like for you, for someone so…average.” You seriously don’t think she’s talked to anyone that wasn’t obscenely rich.

“Well, uh, I guess it was normal? Um, I didn’t do anything. I mean I went to some after-school clubs but fewer than one-fourth of the school knew me. But I didn’t care about popularity I had my people and family and I was doing pretty good in class so I didn’t care. But my friends sure did care about you.”

“Really?” Valery’s ears perked. “What do they say, what do people say about me?”

“Well, most of them just gawk at the floor you walk on, I don’t think they're above licking your shoes for you.”

“Gross.” She states, you agree.

“Others…well others are indifferent. They don’t care about you nor do they want to. Did you hear about the rumor of you killing some of your patients from performing surgery on them?” Valery goes rigid.

“Really? Who said this about me?”

“Oh um, no one in particular, just something I heard while walking the hallway.” You lied.

“Well, what do you think of me?” You can almost feel her hold her breath as in waiting for your response to decide if she should continue or stop.

“Well, I guess a day ago I would say that you were just a snobbish prude.” You can see her visibly wince, “but after what happened yesterday I see you as a more humble person, I think. Um, I guess you're cool.” Valery breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’m glad.” She murmurs.

On the second day, Valery comes with a care package.

“Tada! All my friends have pitched in to make this for you.” You can’t move your body yet so you try as best as you can to see with your eyes. “Oh no no! Don’t push yourself Y/n, here just lay there and I’ll show you one by one what’s inside. When you are perfectly healthy you can take it for your own. Hm? Yeah?” You have no energy to decline so you just accept it. But instead of sitting in a chair, Valery decided to sit next to you on your bed.

“You’re pretty when you sleep.” She says absentmindedly but when she notices the concern in your eyes she elaborates. “Daddy had some tweezers here he needed and I opted to help, it was then that I saw you asleep. Not to sound creepy but you’re a nice sleeper.” She creeps into the care package and pulls out plushie after plushie and decorated them on your bed.

“There! Now, whenever you sleep a piece of me will always be there to take care of you, as a true doctor would.” You nod slowly, trying to follow whatever the hell she’s saying. But then you notice her looking glum.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure I guess.” She propositions herself so that she looks directly at you.

Her voice is unsure, “a-am I a whore?”

Well, you weren’t expecting that.

“It’s just, sometimes I hear from my friends that some of the kids at school think I’m a whore because I have a lot of guy friends. Hell, even my boyfriend is getting agitated by it.”

“Is he getting agitated at you or at what they're saying?” Her eyes widen as if no one has ever asked her that. “Because trust me, If your boyfriend decides to believe the rumors instead of you then he isn’t worth it. I mean, If you were my girlfriend I’d put you above all else. Don’t settle for what you know you don’t deserve.” She regards you for a moment. Like static electricity, never once blinking. If you weren’t too busy looking at the big blue teddy bear you may have gone a little spooked.

“And to answer your other question, I think we all are whores. It may not be for sex but it is for something. My friend is a whore for cigarettes and I am a whore for breaking the rules and seeing how far I can go without getting in too deep shit. I can’t exactly say what you are a whore for, but if it’s what your thinking then no. I don’t think you go after guys just for the sex they offer. Not anymore.” Valery grabs a fistful of the bed sheets and clenches them around her hands. She has to take deep and protracted breaths to prevent herself from crying tears of relief.

“Thank you Y/n, thank you so much.”

“It’s whatever.”

“No.” She reaches to take your arm in hers. “It means a lot to me, thank you.” She looks unsure of whether to say her next sentence or not, but when she looks at you and realizes how badly she wants this she can’t help herself.

“Can I hug you? Y/n, can I please hug you?”

“Valery do you still not realize I have twenty-two Broken bones, if you hug me no matter how light it was I think you would break a few more.”

“Two broken bones” she clarifies, “you have twenty fractured bones and two broken bones. Remember?”

“Yeah yeah same shit.” Valery can’t help but smile.

“Then can I stay here, for a few more minutes with you?” When she realizes she’s getting no response from you she looks at you worriedly only to have her tense muscles relax to see your sleeping face. She told you, you had a pretty face while sleeping. When she looks at you urges so raw bubbles in her stomach. But she holds herself back, no, now is not the time.

Valery is not stupid. She knows that the feelings she feels for you is far from normal, but she doesn’t care. She could care less when she has you to worry about. It’s officially been two weeks since you’ve been in the hospital and though it may be selfish to say but Valery has been enjoying every second of it. She appreciated the bond you’ve formed with her and she is delated in the process of taking care of you.

She almost wishes you were like this forever!

Now, Valery is standing at a porch, her hands knocking on a door. She’s knocked on this door many times before but today seems to be different. And she is giddy about it. The door creeks as orange heels step into the frame.

“Dante, I didn’t expect for you to have a shoot right now.”

“If you become as famous as me, you won’t have time to be free. Every hour there is a new shoot, and right here and now I’m wasting my time with you.” That’s Dante for you.

“I want to speak with Jaydee.” She gives Valery an odd look. “Is something wrong.” She shrugs.

“Is that all? Just Jaydee? What happened to: Scrumpie-pumpkin, Sugar-cakes, Snuggluffagus, Tubba Wubba or—“

“That is enough.” Again Valery is restraining everything in her to not lunge at Dante. “This is important.”

“Well you aren’t going to speak with him today, he’s helping this new kid tutoring.” Valery can feel her teeth clench. Yes that new kid, Jaydee’s friend Oscar made a bet with him to see how long he could get them to fall for him.

“Then do you mind telling him this?”

“Make it quick, I only have so much time to get to my shoot.”

“Im breaking up with him, I’ve found someone much better.” She can feel herself foaming at the mouth.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

She should feel ashamed.

Today is the day of your discharge. Your bones have finally healed but Valery doesn’t want this to end. She doesn’t want to stop doting on you. Which is why she asks you a proposition.

“Go on a date with me.” You almost choke on your coffee.

“Say what?”

“Go on a date with me.” When seeing your expression she immediately goes to try and justify it. “You know b-because we hung around each other these past few months. You don’t even have to see it as a date, just a um, parting gift?”

“Valery, I see you tomorrow at school. It’s not like I’m a vulture, I’m not going to disappear.”

“I-I know that! Just come to my house, oh uh, let’s go 7:30pm huh? We can watch a movie or something, your choice!” She gives you a beaming smile in a sly chance to waver your answer in her favor.

“Okay sure, fine.”

She feels a sigh of relief. Before you know it she’s tackling you in a hug, her face squished against your cheek. If you cared to notice, you would realize how closer her lips were to your mouth, and how tight her hold was on you.

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you! I promise you won’t regret this!”

You did

When Valery told you she lived in an apartment down Boulevard Street you expected her to be living in one unit. But then again this is Boulevard Street, home to all the filthy rich people. So imagine your surprise when you realize that Valery lives in all the units! Like, each unit has a different purpose! It wasn’t until one of the guards that guarded the main entrance told you that the apartment complex is the Magnolia’s family personal estate. All of it.

What was the point of a humungous garage then?

It seemed the guard already knew of your relation to Valery, considering how ready he was to help you. He leads you up the stairs, which again, you don’t understand why you couldn’t just use the darn elevator.

“Right this way.” He leads you to the first door on the eleventh floor.

“Thank you.” You smile and knock on the door.

It was already open.

You don’t seem to mind or be concerned considering the number of guards and protection in this place. If you lived here you wouldn’t even feel the need to lock the door! You step inside and are taken aback at how beautiful and spacious and how wondrous everything is.

“Lady Magnolia is in her bedroom, to the left.” You point your gaze that way and you can definitely tell that it is Valery’s room. The handle is pink, which you learned is her favorite color, and there is a picture on her door. Before you approached it you merely thought it was a portrait of her friends altogether but upon closer inspection you’re horrified to see that it’s you. The picture is of you in the hospital bed, sleeping. On the paper, there is an outlined word in all caps: MINE.

You open the door without a second thought. Stepping inside you see that her wall(s) is covered in pictures of you! Some of the photos are photoshopped, indulging in the idea of you…dating her.

You feel bile creeping up your throat.

You then walk to her desk, that too is covered in pictures and pictures of you. This time you actually vomit a little when you notice some pictures of Valery fondling breasts/crotch. There is no way this could be legal.

It is now that you notice definite CDs on her bedroom floor. You notice a DVD drive on her bed, and her laptop there too. You rush gathering the CDs in your hand and hopping into the bed. You were no expert but if Valery showed this much infatuation with you then you don’t think it would be above her to alter her life completely and the pursuit of you. Which is why you typed your name as the password.

……SIGHING IN.

You cannot believe that this is happening to you.

Quickly you plug the CDs into the DVD drive and the. Into the computer. The videos ranged from Valery giving you kisses while you were unconscious to pleasuring herself with your old hospital gown. She came while saying your name at the top of her lungs, her eyes lidded and lips drooling.

Perhaps you were just too stunned because you couldn’t stop watching, from file to file you watched everything that Valery would do while you were unaware of everything taking place. You genuinely thought she could’ve been a friend to you.

You hear footsteps

It’s already too late to hide what you have been doing

“Y/N…” you’ve never turned your head faster in your life.

“Valery—“

“I can e-explain!” You definitely want to see how that would play off.

“How are you going to justify fucking yourself on my hospital gown!” Valery is caught off guard, she didn’t expect you to see that. “You can’t explain it, can you? That’s why you’re so despondent.”

“No!” She hurriedly replied.

“Oh yeah? Then how do you explain the pictures? Huh! How do you explain every single one of your walls being covered in pictures of me! How do you explain that!”

“I had to!” She cries, cornering you into a wall. You can see tears prick her eyes. Her arms are on each side of you, barricading you. She stutters as she says, “You have no idea what it was like! I-I needed you with me—I still need you with me! Never, have I felt so genuinely cared for by another person before you! I n-never could have let you go even if I wanted to. P-please Y/N, try to understand my point of view. I-I love you.”

You slap her across the face.

“Bullshit!” You take a step closer to her, but she doesn’t budge, intent on keeping you enclosed like this. “I heard about the rumors of you and Jaydee breaking up,” you take anther look at the bedroom “but honestly I think your just using me to get over him—“

“That isn’t true! I was the one to break things off with him, and I did it because I wanted to be with you!” She withdrew her hands from the walls and went to cup your face. “I never felt so sure of something in my life before, but I knew, I just knew that you are the one for me. A-and in time I’m positive I’ll be the one for you! We can even operate on patients together—“

“Fuck no!” You push her off of you. “Why would I ever think of becoming lovers with you, especially now? You-you’ve done so many terrible things to me while I was asleep. You violated my body!”

“No I didn’t! I made love to you before we could do it consciously together! I couldn’t help myself, I needed you so badly and I wanted to make you feel good too so I guess I got a little carried away but I never violated you!”

“That is literally one of the ways you could violate someone! Using their body without their knowledge or consent! Have you gone crazy Valery?” It’s now that she breaks into harrowing smile.

“If it’s for you then yes.” You shake you head disgusted at her.

“I can’t believe you, I thought we were friends!”

“We are! We can continue to still be friends! And something’s more! I know you love me Y/N, you’re just too scared and timid to admit it. I know you are!”

“You are actually psycho!”

“No I’m not!” You shake your head, looking at the door you devise a plan. But Valery is already two steps ahead of you.

“Don’t you dare think about—“ you dash to the door as fast as you can but fall to your knees from a sharp pain. When looking back to Valery, you notice a rifle on her hands, how she got it you’ll never know.

You wake with a searing pain in your head. You realize you’re strapped onto a rather comfy cot with a body next to you huddling for warmth. It’s then do you realize it’s Valery. You try to scream but there is a gag in your mouth. You also realized that you’ve been completely changed of clothes.

Valery stirs from her supposed sleep.

“Your awake.” She murmurs, you glare. “You must still be mad at me…” she seems genuinely disheartened by it. “I know there isn’t much I could say to soothe you, but, Baby you know I would die without you right? So don't leave just yet.”

Well with you bound up like this you have no chance of ever going to!

“You must wonder where we are, it’s another unit in the Apartment complex that my parents use for extra patients. Actually there are several units for that but this one is specially for you.” She seems hesitant before pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. She seems quite happy with herself.

“Ahh, I’ve waited ages to do that!” She snuggles closer to you. “Please understand this is all for you.” It seems to get harder and harder for you to believe that.

#Valery Magnolia x reader #yandere blurbs #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #original story #original character #yandere oc #yandere female #obsessive tendencies #obsessive love #you x yandere

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xecutivecucumber · 9 days

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Executive Cucumber's Thoughts on The Bad Batch 03×12!

Spoilers under the cut

Let start out by saying holy heck that was the cool down episode I needed. My sister watched it before me and was able to tell me that Tech/CX-2 wasn't in it for a significant amount, so I was able to get past my disappointment and not be stressed out during the episode. Yes, I'm still on the 'Tech is CX-2 Bandwagon.' I do think they should have revealed him to the audience earlier, because I have to actively avoid Bad Batch social media (*cough*reddit*cough*) for my own mental health because of the negativity around the idea. It's really draining.

Anyway, on to the actual episode!

Today I realized that I might be triggered by Omega being trapped at Tantiss because of some past experiences. (And yes, if you've read my fics you know that I've done it to her too, but I have control over that and I think the problem is the lack of control I have)

Hi Tech! I love you! Please be un brainwashed soon!

I want to murder Hemlock. I don't know if I've ever hated a Star Wars villain like this before. It feels so personal.

It devastates me that they're going to take Omega's clothes away. Clothes that were given to her by people who love her. Ow.

Also you're playing a dangerous game, not keeping those binders on her, Hemlock.

'Is everything all right, Dr. Karr?' 'No, the Jango parent gene got awakened in me and that does not go away'

Why does Emerie think she HAS to do this?

I'm a little disappointed we didn't see Hunter find out about Omega. He's probably just in 'go' mode, honestly. Adrenaline and all that.

Crosshair is so proud of Omega oh my gosh.

PHEE MY QUEEEEEEEEEN

Oh my gosh Tech told Phee about Crosshair. That implies that had more time than we saw. That makes me so happy and sad.

Phee talks about Tech with such fondness. You can tell how much she cared about him. I feel like I'm watching a widow who's processed her grief but still talks about her husband because she loved him.

Also, looking at Phee, she doesn't really have any implied make up on. She's very natural. Good for her.

...Rampart looks kinda good with a beard.

Okay Tech would find the stunt Phee pulled extremely attractive.

This is the closest we've gotten to the original Batch we've gotten in a very long time. It feels good to see them go mission mode with Crosshair.

This is reminding me of Eriadu and I don't like it.

Crosshair asking Wrecker if he remembered whatever plan and then patiently waiting for him to remember lives rent free in my head he's so sweet.

WRECKER'S THEME IS BACK BABY

Also, Crosshair's theme is played in this really fun way?

Crosshair should be allowed to kick Rampart in the balls. As a treat.

Rampart you snake. Crosshair should have shot him in the leg instead of stunning him.

My sister pointed out that the juggernaut represents how the Batch is right now. You cannot stop them.

Man, it's nice to not to be as conflicted when the TK troopers die, as opposed to when clones were sent against them. Quick thought though, does Wolffe have all the remaining clones?

Man these guys get BRUTALIZED.

Them throwing around passed out Rampart is amazing and should continue to happen.

Okay Wrecker has his knife out HE IS READY TO TORTURE A MAN.

Frick you Rampart. He is the worst replacement for Omega.

Aww they probably didn't bring Batcher on the mission to protect her. (Plus she a half trained dog and it was a stealth mission)

And then the boys spent the next hour arguing over who has to call Echo and tell him.

Hemlock you FOULE you're giving Omega ALLIES. Also why are you telling her all this. She will use it against you.

Gall, I hate Hemlock.

Again, I really needed this cool down episode. Though I'm afraid the final three episodes are going to hurt. THIS IS MY FAVORITE SHOW WHY IS IT STRESSING ME OUT SO MUCH. ALSO WAITING A WEEK FOR EPISODES ALSO SUCKS. A LOT.

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Pink Scarf - PART 14 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Blood. Assault in various forms. Miscarriage. Death/Mourning. Pregnancy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 7.6k

A/N: I'm so sorry in advance, y'all, cuz this one might knock you on your ass with its dramatic angst and give you whiplash after the last few chapters. Honestly, I hurt myself a bit with this one! *sob* Needless to say, the tone is a bit different here. Please make sure you read the trigger warnings for this part because there are some sensitive topics!

While I hesitated to make a part all in flashback, I couldn't seem to avoid it without creating a ridiculously giant chapter, and I also didn't want to make you wait that long, so here it is, complete with a cliffhanger!

Speaking of that, thank you for being so patient while I got this out. Life is kicking my butt a bit, and I SO appreciate you hanging in there with me!

Also, look out for some fun 1960 Elvis posts/reblogs later so you can get the full visual of his March 1960 glory, in case I haven't described it well enough LOL. I included a Rollerdome pic at the end as well.

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to Elvis Twitter, who stumbled into the Pink Scarf vortex and are now with us in the chokehold of '69 Pink Scarf Era Elvis and are supporting and sharing this lil' fic over there--I see you and appreciate you! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

March 1960

You shouldn’t feel nervous. It’s just Elvis. But having not seen him in person in over 18 months, or even really being able to talk on the phone, you wonder if too much time has passed, if too much has changed, if the man who went into the Army two years ago is still the friend you cherished.

You wait in front of Graceland in the icy March air with Jack and a multitude of other close friends and relations for Elvis to arrive, shivering in your heavy coat. It’s a strange limbo you all are in, this energy of the end of one thing and the start of something new and unknown. You can’t help feeling that everything is different somehow, that a new era has begun.

This feeling is compounded by the secret you are keeping. You had been wary to accept that your greatest hope is finally coming true, but after your appointment yesterday afternoon, you are finally starting to settle into the fact that new life is growing inside you. You haven’t told anyone yet, not even Jack, since Elvis’ imminent arrival has taken over everyone’s minds. While you have no need to be the center of attention, you also know that the news would get lost in Elvis’ return. No one could compete with Elvis for any sort of attention. It would be a losing battle.

Honestly, you are glad to sit with the knowledge on your own for a moment, to give yourself a minute to adjust to your new reality. And part of you is still quite scared that this could all be over in a flash. It’s still early, the doctor said, even though you were further along than you’d originally thought. But after two years of nothing, there is a piece of you that doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

Perhaps that is truly why you’re feeling nervous and it’s nothing to do with Elvis at all.

Everyone around you starts to buzz, snapping you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see the police cruiser, lights and sirens and all, coming up the long drive. When it finally pulls up in front of the house and Elvis gets out, everyone explodes with liveliness.

It takes a moment for the small crowd to clear enough for you to see him fully. When his tall frame comes completely into view, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of your body. You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud.

He looks beyond incredible. So incredible, in fact, that your heart is suddenly fluttering in your chest like a schoolgirl’s. You have seen him in his uniform before, of course, but the last time, he was so miserable after the death of his mother that the uniform seemed like a prison, an unforgiving punishment almost. Of course, you’d also seen pictures for publicity and ones he sent home which would occasionally show him in his uniform. He always was handsome, to be sure, but now…now, something was different.

You try to put your finger on it because it really has thrown you for a loop. You aren’t some fawning, adoring fan, for god’s sake. But you cannot help but openly stare at the man in front of you. He positively glows. His blue eyes sparkle with the happiness of being home, but it’s not only that. Taking off his cap and tucking it under his arm, he surveys the small crowd and his home with joy. The blue of his dress uniform brings out the reddish-blonde of his natural hair color and the blush on his cheeks. His hair is long again on top, grown out and curled up and mussed from his hat. Compared to the Army buzz cut, it is more reminiscent of his signature coiffed 50’s style, but somehow more mature yet rebellious at the same time. It suits him very well, you think, highlighting high cheekbones, long face, and his now quite chiseled jaw.

Elvis’ whole face is lit up with happiness, that signature grin white and wide, as friends and family gather around him. You can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy to see that smile again in person. When you finally catch his eye, you feel like the whole world stops. It’s ridiculous really, the way your heart throbs in your ears, but you swear his face changes almost imperceptibly when he sees you. You’re not exactly sure how, but it softens somehow, imbued with just a little more warmth than he’s already exuding. His eyes travel over you only briefly before Jack reaches out to embrace him, but in that short moment, you suddenly feel self-conscious.

Once his eyes leave you, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding. You look down, clasping your hands in front of you, but when you look up again, Elvis is looking at you from over Jack’s shoulder. You are absolutely caught in his blue-eyed gaze.

Stop being stupid, it’s just Elvis.

Perhaps your sudden intimidation by your dear friend is that he left Graceland a boy but has returned a man. Even though he’s thin, it’s in a leaner, more carved, more refined way than before. He still retains a bit of his baby face, but his countenance is different, settled, more worldly.

After exchanging words with Jack that you are too overcome to hear, Elvis steps around him and comes towards you, his attentions focused completely on you.

“Hey there, y/n darlin’,” he says gently, his voice still heavily accented, high and bright.

“Welcome home, Elvis,” you say. It barely sounds like you, you think, too quiet and soft and breathless. You ring your hands nervously.

He begins to open his arms and you know he means to embrace you, and all of a sudden, you are certain you are going to faint. It’s as if you know that if he touches you, right here and now, looking as he does and with the way his essence is radiating around you, something will be irrevocably changed. Your heart flutters and your breath rate increases, and you almost panic as he closes the gap, those eyes of his looking at you in such a way that you feel completely, utterly exposed. You want to run away, but you are frozen to the spot.

Just as he steps up to you, he’s attacked from the side by his young cousin. The moment between you is thankfully interrupted, and you instantly step back and behind Jack as the boy wrestles Elvis.

“Jesus, kid, a little warning next time!” he shouts playfully, putting the kid in a headlock and rubbing his knuckle into his head. He catches your eye for a fraction of a second, his face somewhere between regret and chagrin at not being able to hug you. You manage a small smile, but practically hide behind Jack, grabbing his hand as you warily look on.

The horde gratefully moves inside, out of the cold late winter chill. The look that flashes over Elvis’ face as he crosses the threshold is one of trepidation, grief. You realize being home must come with mixed emotions; after all, the last time he was here was when his dear mama passed, and this was the home he’d gotten for her.

You’re not sure that anyone else catches how his breath hitches and how those pretty eyes become anxious. In that moment, you forget all about the strange reaction you had to him not a minute ago and you ache to go to him, to pull him into your arms and tell him it’ll all be okay.

It seems like both forever and just yesterday that he wept in your arms on the stairs, bereft and inconsolable, as his mother lay in the other room in her casket. He had refused to leave her, petting her, and talking their baby talk to her for so long that they had finally placed glass over her to dissuade him. Even then, he had sat vigil by her side and as you all looked on in collective grief, as the concern for him and his deteriorating state was palpable. Almost no one was able to get him away for longer than a few minutes—first it was the Colonel near shoving him and Vernon out the door and into the arms of the vultures with the cameras outside. Then, Sam Phillips was able to console him for a bit. Jack and the boys and Anita all tried to pull him away, but they were only swept up by him to go see Gladys, and his tearful ramblings continued about how beautiful she looked and her tiny little “sooties,” and then his wailing and sobbing would commence once again.

His mama had always been more than kind to you, and you cried for her loss, but it was truly Elvis’ grief that had the tears rolling down your cheeks. But you hadn’t wanted to overstep your bounds. However, he’d stopped eating and drinking, and looked positively exhausted, eyes rimmed with dark circles. Eventually, you could stand it no more.

“Elvis, honey, I need you…” you’d said, putting your hand on his shoulder gently. He’d looked up at you sharply, eyes so bloodshot and filled with tears that the blue of his irises seemed unnaturally bright, his innocence and grief leeching out of them. You faltered then at the state of him, stumbling over your words, wanting to be as kind as possible. You cleared your throat, continuing, “I need you to come with me, sweetie.”

And somehow, against all odds, he listened to you, of all people. Wordlessly, he’d stood, drawing you tightly to him, his arm gripping your waist and his tall frame leaning on you for support, nearly knocking you over. You’d stumbled with him to the stairs, and he’d just collapsed into you, his head buried into your neck, clinging to you as if drowning in his grief and you were his life preserver. His heart wrenching sobs had silent tears flowing down your own cheeks, and you’d held him, petting him, cooing at him, your protective gaze shooing the onlookers away.

Eventually, after some time, he quieted. You could feel the heat of his head through the now-soaked top of your dress. “Oh, E, you’re burning up,” you’d said, feeling his face with your hands. He’d worked himself into such a state that his body was rebelling against him, and you’d whispered to someone nearby to call the doctor.

At that point, he’d had little fight left in him, and Jack and Sam had helped get him up to bed once the doctor had come. But he’d still clung to you, not letting you leave him once in his ornate, darkened cave of a bedroom. Elvis wouldn’t settle or let the doctor administer the much-needed sedative until you were in the huge bed with him and he was curled in your lap. You had looked to Jack wide-eyed for some sort of support, part of you feeling a little scandalized by being invited into Elvis’ bed, but none of the men knew what to do, and you were the only one so far that had been able to get him away from Gladys. You just got harried looks of bewilderment from everyone, and the doctor had just nodded to you, as if giving you permission to climb up in with him, doctor’s orders. Anything to calm Elvis down.

So you had, your heart breaking for him, confused as to why it was you who he needed, not Anita or Vernon or Jack. Regardless of how strange it was, you were his friend, and you’d do anything to help, no matter your own comfort. You’d stayed with him through the night, back leaning up against the headboard awkwardly, staying even after the sedative took hold because when you’d tried to leave, he’d still clung to you, heavy and feverish.

For hours you’d held vigil over him, hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, eventually drifting in and out of sleep, though any movement from him had you startling awake. And when you woke in the morning, stiff as hell, and Elvis blinked up at you with those huge, grieving puppy dog eyes, the pang in your heart was evident and confusing.

After those few horrid days, you never spoke of it again. You never asked him why it was you who’d been able to reach him through his grief, and beyond a whispered “thank you” in your ear before he left for Germany, he never mentioned it again. Not that you’d seen him for him to do so. Maybe that is why you are nervous, you think, because the last time you saw him, he was so utterly lost, and for whatever reason, you had been a lifeline in one of his worst moments. And that feels significant somehow, though you aren’t sure exactly how.

That look you see in his eyes now reminds you too much of that look from 18 months ago. But there are a bunch of family and friends between the two of you, crowded in the entryway, bustling with excitement, all seemingly oblivious to Elvis’ distress.

It angers you a bit, the way they all clamor over him without truly seeing him. You stand as rooted as he is, as if your being able to move is tied to him somehow. He looks at you then, sensing your gaze or your thoughts in that almost preternatural way of his, and you see the overwhelm in his eyes. The way the endless blue of them seems clouded over with pain and grief. The way they almost beg you to save him.

This, out of everything, gets you in motion, stepping towards him in the crowded space, but there are so many damn people that you can’t get to him. By the time you sidestep cousins and friends, you’ve watched as his face changes, a mask slipping over those handsome features so seamlessly that it takes you aback. You stop short, amazed at the way he now smiles and laughs at the antics around him, as if nothing happened.

You realize he must’ve had to do this to survive over there. There was no way he could show that kind of vulnerability during tank maneuvers or whatever they had him doing. He’s protecting himself, you think.

But it still rubs you the wrong way. The ease with which he switched emotions was disconcerting to you. Somewhat bitterly, you think that he certainly didn’t need your help through his pain this time.

Oh, stop, you chide yourself. He’s been home all of five minutes and first you wanted to run away from him and now you’re mad his grief isn’t crippling him? What’s wrong with you?

“Okay, okay, y’all, I need to go get changed! The press is gonna be here any minute,” Elvis chuckles and waves you all off, climbing the stairs. His eyes catch yours in the briefest of moments and you swear there is something unsaid in them. And then he’s gone, up into his room.

A shiver passes over you, your stomach flipping, and then a wave of nausea comes.

Jack sees you and comes over with concern in his eyes, cupping your cheek. “You alright, treasure? You look a little green in the gills,” he says.

“I…uh…my stomach is upset, sweetie. Excuse me,” you say quickly, the bile rising, and you make quickly for the bathroom down the hall. Once safely locked away, you rush to the toilet, sick. Luckily, once out, the queasiness passes quickly.

The doctor said this could happen, you think, looking at the reflection of your red face in the mirror. You rinse your mouth out and splash your face with cold water. It certainly has nothing to do with Elvis. That would be absurd.

It’s just the look in his eyes is haunting you and you don’t understand why. Maybe it’s just your hormones being in overdrive. Yes, that makes sense. You are on edge and not seeing things clearly. Or maybe too clearly.

After a multitude of deep breaths, you straighten your dress and hair, then head back out into the fray. You find yourself in an empty house. You wander about to find that most everyone has gone back outside to witness Elvis’ triumphant return to Graceland as procured by the press.

They have arrived, littering the snow-dusted lawn and taking photographs and recordings of Elvis as he sits in front of a huge guitar shaped cake. You peek over someone’s shoulder and your jaw nearly drops at the sight. Clad now in all black, his wool coat is appropriate for the chill, but his black shirt is open halfway down his torso, a large gold medallion resting on his bare chest. If he’d looked like the All-American boy getting out of that car not 30 minutes ago, now he looks like the perfect combination of sweet and sinful.

Oh, dear lord.

His chestnut hair is perfectly imperfect, a rogue lock falling over his forehead. You think perhaps he’s added a little shadow and mascara to his eyes, or maybe he’s just exhausted from the long journey home, but whichever it is, the slight darkness on his lids gives him a stunningly beautiful look, his blue eyes popping and dancing with a combination of mischievousness, aloofness, and candor. Somehow, he has retained the youthful swell of his cheeks while also now having a jawline that could cut glass.

As you watch Elvis pick at the cake, deftly putting pieces of it in his mouth with his fingers, the innocent gesture seems almost obscene and that lightheaded feeling comes over you again, this time with a swell of warmth.

You want to look away, you really do, but you’ve forgotten your friend’s natural charm, how his essence pulls even the most unwilling into his orbit. His beauty is one thing, but the feeling that surrounds him is another thing all together. It’s not just you caught in the pull, however. Friends and family gather around, too, though they are likely not experiencing the same type of reaction as you.

Oh, this is utterly ridiculous, you think. Elvis has always been pretty and alluring. Get ahold of yourself.

You think it must be the pregnancy hormones, the way your body flushes from head to toe just watching him eat his cake and play to the camera. You force yourself not to follow as they direct Elvis towards Vernon’s office for the press conference, his tall frame gliding across the lawn in the most confident and nonchalant of ways. He commands his audience as though he’d never left, born to be at the forefront of everything. Focused on the cameras, he does not see you, or so you think, until he catches you staring and quirks his brow.

This finally prompts you to move, turning away quickly and heading back into the warmth of the house. You are glad for the cold, as it gives a reason for your cheeks to be as red as they are, and it douses your heated body with a much-needed chill.

You are embarrassed by your behavior. Elvis is not some idol to be gawked at, not by you. Perhaps it is because you feel so removed from him in his absence, or it is the unasked questions that linger in your mind from before he’d left, but your nerves buzz annoyingly.

You manage to avoid him after the press conference, as he’s utterly exhausted from his trip back home and all it had entailed and sends everyone on their way with the promise of a party the next evening.

Later, lying in bed, you wonder what in the hell came over you. It’s got to be the nerves and excitement about the life growing inside you colliding with the trepidation of your friend’s return all at once. You also know that pregnant women have a multitude of strange physical symptoms, especially in the early days, which would explain nearly everything.

That must be it. It’s not about Elvis at all. It’s your body telling you that you are pregnant.

Finally.

The thought sends a flutter of a different kind through your chest. It’s one of excitement and hope and a little fear. You place your hands on your belly, imbued with a sense of motherly responsibility. You drift to sleep thinking of holding your child in your arms.

The party the next night has Graceland lit up in a way it hasn’t been in years. An air of celebration surrounds the place, chasing away any of the leftover morbidity from Gladys’ passing. You hold Jack’s hand tightly as you enter the mansion, that strange anxiousness from yesterday threatening to ruin your night.

Maybe you should have told Jack about the baby before you came, but no moment seemed quite right. Telling him before work would have distracted him and telling him before the party still seemed to be stepping on the toes of Elvis’ return. Tomorrow, I’ll tell him for sure tomorrow, you think pointedly.

The warm air of the house nearly overwhelms you, and the two of you strip your heavy coats and head towards the sound of Elvis’ boisterous laughter. Your dress is fitted only at the waist and not over the belly, which you are glad for, even though you are hardly showing yet.

You manage to find a seat in the corner with Jack far enough from Elvis that you can breathe, as the fact that he still looks incredible has not changed in the last 24 hours. Why you are so completely stuck on his shocking handsomeness and consumed by whatever prowess he is exuding, you still do not quite know, but it continues to affect you and keep you wary. Shaking off your unhelpful thoughts, you busy yourself talking with Anita, Pat, and the other girls as the men joke and play. After a while, this finally settles your nerves, but you are very conscious of not letting yourself get too close to Elvis as the night goes on, as if being too near will disrupt the tenuous equilibrium you are trying to maintain.

Later in the evening, you excuse yourself and head to the restroom. You can’t help but look in the mirror, rubbing your belly even though it’s impossible to tell yet. This puts a smile on your face, your sweet little secret. And this is how you exit, smiling, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Shit!” you gasp, jumping out of your skin at Elvis leaning casually against the wall across from you. Your heart gallops against your ribcage, one hand flying to your heart and the other to your belly in a protective gesture. “Elvis, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry, y/n,” he says, pushing off the wall, eyes remorseful but watching you carefully.

You find yourself barely able to look at him with him being this close. You will your heart to slow, will yourself to act normal, but it’s like you can’t. You can’t quite meet his eyes, you can’t quite breathe and escape is all you can think of. You awkwardly gesture to the bathroom, thinking that it’s why he’s lurking in the hallway, and then you step away from him without another word.

“Hey, now,” he says from behind you, perturbed, “You wait just a damn minute.”

Elvis’ long fingers circle around your wrist, grabbing you, and it feels like fire. Startled, you turn back and look down at how he holds you firm. You hardly have a moment to process that he’s touching you before he’s pulling you into a room across the hallway. Yelping, you have no choice but to follow—he’s much stronger than you—and he holds fast as flips on the lamp and then shuts the door behind the two of you. He releases you, then folds his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Elvis…” you start, confused and shocked and trying to process whatever is going on.

“Did I make you mad or do something to offend you?” he interrupts, his voice laced with hurt. Those intense blue eyes of his lock you in place, betraying his churning emotions.

“What? No, what are you—?” you sputter out, faltering under his gaze and needing to look away.

“That! That right there. You can’t even hardly look at me!” he points, voice raising angrily. “You barely said three words to me since I been home!” He steps towards you and instinctually you step back, a hand flying to your belly, as the intensity of being this close to him has you completely overwhelmed.

His eyes widen. “Look at you, you can’t even be in the same room as me without skittering away like a little bird. I thought I was imaginin’ it for a minute.” Elvis pauses, looking you over. “Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly, the hurt palpable in both his body and voice.

Your heart aches at the sight of him like, forcing you to relax and be more mindful of your actions. “No, of course I’m not afraid of you, Elvis,” you breathe. You aren’t, truly.

“Then what did I do?” he asks with such childlike innocence, such hurt, that your heart breaks for causing it.

“Nothing, E, you didn’t do anything, I swear,” you insist, going to him, unable to bear the look on his cherubic face. You force yourself to get close, pushing through your silly fears.

“Why ya bein’ so strange then, baby?” Elvis asks, eyes scanning your face. This close, you realize you could fall and drown in their oceanic blue intensity.

How can you answer that? You certainly cannot say, “Yes, Elvis, I’m being strange because you came back too handsome and your charming presence overwhelms me, and I don’t know where I stand with you, and oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.”

Your brain scrambles for an answer as the tension between the two of you increases to a level that has you sweating, and you blink up at him, flustered. “I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be like that…I guess I am afraid that you’re different, or that things have changed too much while you were gone, or that it’s been too long and that you might not, I don’t know, you might not see me as your friend anymore?” you prattle on, the honesty in your words surprising you. The idea and the truth of it brings tears to your eyes.

His beautiful face softens, his mouth popping open as emotions flash over his features so quickly that you cannot grasp them completely. You feel utterly caught up in him, the loss of control and your feelings frightening you.

“Never,” Elvis whispers finally, “Never in a million years could that happen, baby.” The way he looks down at you is charged, confusing, intense.

Your heart flips. A rogue tear slips down your cheek. Stupid hormones.

You are close enough now that you can feel the energy of him pulsate around you. It makes your breath catch when he brushes the tear off your cheeks with the backs of his fingers. You’re not sure if you can bear him touching you more than that because it sends a shockwave through your body.

“So, you missed me?” he asks, a sideways grin beginning to widen on his face.

“’Course I missed you, you idiot,” you sniffle.

“Some way of showin’ it,” he jokes now, breaking some of the tension.

“Well, I’ve had some things on my mind,” you say pointedly. “Life didn’t stop just cuz you were in Germany, ya know.”

You don’t realize that your arm has been wrapped over your belly all this time. Elvis narrows his eyes at you, steps back, and then looks you over very deliberately. Self-conscious and confused under the scrutiny, you blush.

“What?” you ask nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

A huge smile spreads over his features and his eyes light up. “Congratulations, doll,” he grins at you.

He knows. Elvis, of all people, knows your secret after spending less than five minutes with you.

You are shocked enough that you don’t try to deny it. “I…How…?” you stutter out.

“You bein’ so skittish and protective, and the way you been holdin’ yourself this whole time is different. Explains that real pretty glow about ya, too,” he says, booping your nose playfully.

You blush harder. “Elvis, I just found out. No one knows yet, not even Jack, so don’t you dare go saying anything yet. It’s still real early,” you say in a warning tone.

Elvis nods, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Seriously, E, not a freakin’ word, promise me!” you say. He is a terrible secret keeper.

“Okay, okay, I promise!” he grins.

“Lord, with the way you’re buzzing, you’d think I was having your baby!” you laugh.

Something changes in his eyes, but it’s gone so quick that you can’t put your finger on it. He does still a bit, though, and you look at him quizzically. He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you openly. The air has shifted once again.

“Well, we should probably get back out there. Everybody must be missing the man of the hour,” you say, clearing your throat and turning to leave.

Before you can go far, Elvis’ fingers dance over yours, reaching, as if wanting to hold your hand and pull you back but hesitating as if he shouldn’t. Your breath catches, an odd feeling blooming in your chest, like you are falling. You look back and down, seeing and feeling his fingers graze yours in such a strangely much-too-intimate way. He doesn’t stop, fingers brushing and winding through yours. You can’t help the way yours start to move around his in the now heavy silence. Your eyes raise to meet his, heart racing.

“Y/n, I—” he starts to say, voice low and gaze intense.

“EP!! Where the hell you at, man?” Red shouts from the hallway, startling you both, causing you to drop your hands as though they were suddenly on fire. As if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t.

Elvis visibly shakes himself off and crosses in front of you to open the door. It opens a crack and then he stops, turning back to you quickly, mouth open as if he wants to finish what he was trying to say. He must think better of it, though, because he just shakes his head again and sucks in his cheeks before heading out the door without another word.

You pause, frozen to the spot, as your heart thunders in your ears. Befuddled, you try and process the last few minutes, try to piece out what the hell just happened. Your hand splays on your belly, your face hot and your body warm.

You were right, you think, a lot has changed. Everything and nothing, all at once.

After that, things move quickly. With Elvis’ new knowledge, you tell Jack immediately about the baby, pulling him aside at the party. He is thrilled.

A few blissful weeks pass. You’ve been feeling okay physically, just some nausea and lightheadedness, but your nerves are still a bit on edge. The strange moment between you and Elvis the night of the party lingers in your mind, just under the surface, and every time you see him, that odd falling feeling comes over you for a moment. It doesn’t help that when he sees you, something in him changes. It’s so subtle that you doubt anyone notices; in fact, you think you could be imagining it if not for the charged, unreadable look in his eyes. But to you he seems overly attentive to your every move, protective even.

You try and chalk this weird intuition and the way your body feels up to the pregnancy. Your body is changing a little each day, and maybe this is just a part of it.

Elvis has been enjoying his few weeks at home before everything starts up for him again, and consequently, so have all of you, finding yourselves pulled back into his orbit easily. He’s travelling down to Miami soon to be on Frank Sinatra’s show and then he starts filming his next movie in April. You have mixed feelings about this, dreading him leaving so soon again, but you also think perhaps it is a good thing to be away from him considering the tricks your mind seems to be playing on you.

Tonight, he rents out the Rainbow Rollerdome for an evening of what he dubs the “Roller Skating Wars.” You, of course, will not be skating in your condition, but that certainly doesn’t stop you from putting on a cute polka dotted dress and going to observe the chaos you know will ensue.

Jack, unfortunately, stays home, struck suddenly in the afternoon with a sore throat and fever. You tell him you will stay home and take care of him, but he brushes you off and tells you he’s just going to be sleeping anyway, that you should go and have fun. He practically pushes you out the door.

When you arrive at the Rollerdome, you quickly find the girls and plant yourself in one of the big booths with a coke, some popcorn, and some candy. Your cravings for sweets have been intense this last week, and you pick delightfully at the confections as you watch everyone skate around.

Elvis has a silly grin plastered on his face as he wheels up to your table, his hair so long and fluffy on top that it bounces with him, product keeping it standing nearly straight up. On anyone else, it would look absolutely ridiculous, but with Elvis being Elvis, it just seems to highlight how incredibly handsome he’s become. Honestly, he nearly takes your breath away in his dark polo with the popped collar, his eyes electric and dancing, his face long and jaw chiseled.

At least you know that you aren’t the only one noticing the change in his looks, because the other girls seem to blush and smile more as he looms over you all, the skates putting him nearly six and a half feet tall.

“Ladies, everybody got their skates?” he drawls charmingly.

Everyone giggles and there’s a chorus of “Yes, Elvis!” as they show off their skates. For a moment, you are a bit upset that you can’t skate, but that is quickly banished by the excitement of the life growing inside you.

“Well, go on then!” he motions, and the ladies scurry, happy to be summoned.

After they clamor out of the booth, Elvis looks at you more seriously.

“No skating for you tonight, right?” he asks protectively, cobalt eyes narrowing.

Your heart does that falling thing for a moment before you respond. “Nope, feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much!” you smile.

He nods, pleased by this. “Where’s Jack? I haven’t seen him,” he asks, looking around.

“Oh, he’s at home, sick. Booted me out of there. I think he was annoyed at me hovering, to be honest,” you chuckle.

“You gonna be okay over here? I don’t want you to be by yourself,” Elvis says, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll come and watch you all here in a minute. My back’s bothering me a bit, so I’m fine to sit for a spell.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks again, brow furrowing, as if sensing something about you that you couldn’t sense yourself.

“Yes, E, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Now, shoo, and go have some fun, but for god’s sake don’t go killin’ yourself or anyone else out there!” you laugh.

Elvis looks at you in that unreadable way of his for a moment, then a wide grin spreads across his face. “No promises!” he shouts as he skates away.

You let out a breath after he leaves. His presence is still overwhelming to you, no matter how much you try to logic it away, so for now you are just accepting it. Such is living a life with Elvis in it.

Your back really is starting to bother you, which you attribute to the obvious, and after a few minutes alone, you realize you would rather be around people than not. You get up from the booth, then a wave of dizziness overtakes you and you grab the edge of the table for support as you blink away the spots in your eyes.

You wonder for a moment if you might be coming down with whatever Jack has, but your throat is fine. After a moment, the wave mostly passes, so you make your way to the skating rink to watch the group from the sidelines. There are a few people on the sidelines, and you have fun making small talk and watching the antics in the rink. After a bit, most of the girls come back out as Elvis and the boys are getting pretty rough, and part of you is a little glad Jack isn’t here to get injured.

You ignore the ache in your back (it’s just something you’ll have to get used to, after all) and another wave of lightheadedness hits you as you all head back to the table. You are starting to feel distracted, your stomach churning now a bit, too, and you remind yourself that being pregnant isn’t necessarily a picnic. You feel a bit claustrophobic now, shoved in the booth with the other ladies, and excuse yourself to the restroom, thinking it might be time to go home.

Something’s wrong, you think, a feeling of dread coming over you. Forcing yourself to breathe, you remind yourself again and again that you are just pregnant and these are symptoms of that. You pause at the water fountain to drink, hoping the water might settle your stomach.

As you are bent over, someone zips behind you on skates, then suddenly you feel a hand groping your backside.

Yelping, you choke on the water and jump, turning around.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” a man you don’t recognize leers at you, way too close for comfort.

“Excuse me,” you say haughtily, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, making your lightheadedness even worse. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“Naw, you’re the prettiest girl in here. Why ya all by your lonesome?” he purrs at you, the sound setting off every warning bell in your body, adrenaline clashing with your dizziness and churning stomach. He leans down, as if to try and kiss you and you push him back.

“Leave me alone!” you say, your voice raising in both volume and pitch. You try to sidestep him, but he grabs you hard and presses you into the wall. You think you might vomit all over him.

“Don’t be like that! All I want is a little kiss,” he says, one wandering hand groping your chest as his lips come at you.

“Don’t touch me! Stop it!” you shriek, trying to squirm out of his grasp as his disgusting mouth roams over your face and neck. Your body betrays you, though, your back throbbing, weakness overcoming your limbs, and you can’t fight him off. You curse the fact that the bathrooms are so far back from the rest of the group, and you pray that someone hears you.

“Get off of me!” you try to scream, but he’s trying to silence you with his hand. Panic overtakes you now as you realize this man is going to hurt you, but in your current state, you are unable to fight.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!” You hear the low growl before the horrible man boxing you in is yanked backwards and sideways, his eyes bulging in surprise. You gasp as you watch Elvis collide with the man, his momentum from how fast he must have been skating sending the man flying.

The man stumbles and rolls, flailing and falling, and Elvis looks like you’ve never seen him before as he spins around. His eyes are dark and lethal, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his chest heaves with his breath. He looks terrifying, his focus singular, and you are almost afraid for the man. Almost.

“I asked you a fucking question,” Elvis growls again, pulling the dazed man upright by his shirt. “What the fuck were you doin’ to her?!” he yells, pulling back his arm and then socking the man in the jaw so hard you can hear the crack. The man is stunned for a moment, blood beginning to seep from the corner of his mouth, but he recovers, taking a swing at Elvis.

It barely grazes him and doesn’t even phase Elvis, who seems possessed. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch her!” Elvis shouts, then punches the man in the face again, hard, sending him flying.

Things are happening so fast, you can barely process it. You can hardly breathe, the waves of dizziness pouring over you, making it hard to focus.

Elvis goes for the man again, and suddenly you are fearful he might kill him because he seems so blacked out with rage. Elvis hits him again and the man falls to the floor in a heap, bloody and bruised.

“Elvis, Elvis, stop!” you try to call out, but your voice is too quiet, wavering, and he is too far gone. You need to stop him before he does something he cannot take back, and you know something is wrong with you because you can’t get your body to move the way you need it to.

It’s then that a sharp, searing pain burns in your abdomen, and a primal scream bursts from your lungs. A shockwave of agony rolls through you, knocking the breath from your body. It’s so sudden and all-encompassing that you see red, and you clutch at your belly, your head spinning, fearing the worst.

The baby.

Your cry finally snaps Elvis back to reality because he’s with you in a flash, fear and concern flashing over his features, replacing the fury that was there mere seconds ago.

“Y/n! Y/n, what is it? Did he hurt you?” he gasps, looking you over as tears stream down your cheeks.

You can’t catch your breath, and your heart is beating too fast. Then, you feel hot liquid spread from your belly downwards, life spilling out of you, running down your legs. You feel sick as you look down, Elvis’ gaze following your own. That’s when you see the dark red begin to stain your dress and your stockings.

It’s over, it’s over, the baby, oh god, runs through your head, a dismal chant in your mind. You look at Elvis with resigned horror, but you are feeling so lightheaded, you can barely focus on anything. Even the pain starts to wane and feel distant. You know this isn’t normal, even for a miscarriage. Something is terribly wrong.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you hear him beg, his hands on your face, your shoulders, his eyes wild with terror now. “We need help over here!” he bellows, never taking his eyes off you.

They are so beautiful, those crystalline eyes, those dark lashes, you think absently as you begin to slump over.

You are somewhat aware of his strong arms catching you as he slides down with you to the floor. They feel so warm and comforting, you think. You blink up at him, your vision starting to dim.

“Y/n, no, don’t you dare, you stay w-w-with me, b-baby,” Elvis says in a panic, shaking you, pulling you into his lap. A sharp metallic smell permeates the air. “Somebody c-call a damn ambulance!” you hear him shout. You can hear the terror in his voice, in his stutter, and you wonder why he’s so scared. You’ve never heard him this scared.

“Elvis?” you whisper. You try to keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard.

“Yeah, b-b-baby?” his voice shudders. You can feel his chest heaving as he presses you into him, rocking you, tucking your head under his. He always has to be moving, his energy always vibrating around him.

“I feel so strange…” you say, and you do. You’re aware of the pain but it feels so far away. Everything feels far away except for the heat of Elvis, which feels like a blanket around you. With the warmth pouring out of you, you start to feel cold.

“I-I-I know, baby. Come on, you stay awake, now,” he says in your ear as your eyes start to close. He shakes you again. You force them to flutter open. You think whatever is happening must be really bad if he’s so scared.

“Tell Jack I…I love him,” you breathe quietly, just in case.

“You tell him yourself, damnit,” Elvis chokes out, pulling you in closer.

“Thanks for…being…my friend…so good to me,” you say, but it’s not enough. You can’t seem to get the right words out, your mouth filling with cotton. You bring your shaking fingers up to his cheek, your face is buried in his neck, his smell surrounding you. He smells so nice. He feels so good wrapped around you. You’re not nervous to be near him anymore, all of that seems so silly now. Your hand drifts and you feel his full lips under your fingertips. They really are as soft as they look.

You can’t keep your eyes open anymore and blackness starts to swallow you, your hand falling onto his chest, but you feel unusually calm.

“No, no, no! Oh, God, don’t—please don’t go. I-I love you, y/n, please, I love y…” Elvis whispers pleadingly in your ear.

His quiet, startling confession fades away and is the last thing you hear before the world goes completely dark and silent.

Elvis at the Rainbow Rollerdome, March 19th, 1960

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rubydubydoo122 · 7 days

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In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason)

Jason woke up in a daze. There was shouting, and arguing, but he couldn’t really make out the words. Something about ‘ Why is this the first time I’m learning about Jason’s soul sucking swords??!!’ and ‘It’s in his files–’ and ‘Not the magic sword part, the part where he uses them and ALMOST DIES AGAIN!!’ and ‘Do I look like a magic expert to you, Dick?’ and ‘No, but you could’ve asked ANY of the handful of magicians–’

Jason stopped listening. Why are Dick and Bruce arguing? Must be about the Titans or something.

He felt a hand card through his hair.

Oh. That’s nice.

He fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up, there was the bone deep numbness that was so numb, it hurt. In his shoulders, his knees, his hips. His fingers felt stiff. His whole body was screaming.

Jason really hates that crowbar.

Slowly, he flexed each and every joint. Curling his fingers, curving his shoulders, bending his knees and shifting his hips until the screaming pain turned into a synchronized throb.

Sometimes, Jason really loathed being brought back to life.

He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t like laying on his back. It reminds him too much of waking up in a suit and tie. Inside of a box. Dark and cold, breathing in stale air–

He curled back onto his side.

That was better.

Jason realized Bruce and Dick were staring at him with that look . With how much they look at him like that, they should trademark it. Right along with Alfred’s I’m very disappointed in you look ™ and the Batglare ™. Though, Jason didn’t really know how to describe it. Kinda like a you’re still alive? Look.

It was too much work to read into whatever Bruce and Dick were thinking under their carefully crafted masks, and frankly, Jason was tired, so he closed his eyes.

But every single bone in his body was pulsing in pain to the beat of his heart.

A hand grabbed his, and traced tiny circles into the space between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul.

“In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance, My head is bloody, but unbowed.

“Beyond this place of wrath and tears, Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years, Finds and shall find me unafraid.

‘It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.”

There was a weight on his chest that was shifting around, until he was face to face with…

Damian.

But something about him was making some very dim light bulbs in the back of his head turn on. Wait. Talia was there, right? He remembers seeing Talia. Were they at the League?

“ Little Prince–” he started in the League dialect.

“Are you really Jay-Akhi when he grows big?” And that completely threw Jason. Because Damian said it in English– and not in the crisp accent or tone Damian used to have when he was younger. Lowkey, it had a bit of Alley in it, which was really throwing Jason for a loop.

So… maybe they weren’t in the league. “Uh… I guess?” He sat up, “Not exactly… I’m not your Jason, but I’m kinda like him.”

Damian grinned– aww, now that was just adorable– he was missing his two front teeth, “That’s mir-macu- wacu-louis. Now I have three Akhis!” then he gasped, “No, four!”

Jason chuckled, “Miraculous.” Damian couldn’t be more than, what? Five? Six? “Alrighty kiddo, is there a reason you woke me up? Cus I’m pretty sure I need my beauty sleep in all universes.”

“Um…” Damian put a finger to his chin and looked up, and then leaned in close, speaking in a stage whisper, “My reason was Cookies.”

“Do you mean you want to make ‘em or eat ‘em?” Jason raised an eyebrow conspiratorially, “Or do you need help stealing ‘em? ‘Cus, I dunno about you, but I may know a thing or two about that.”

Damian spread his arms out wide, and wrapped them around Jason’s neck, “I wanna make ‘em, steal ‘em, then eat ‘em. Like the Cookie Monster!”

There were footsteps racing down the hall, “Habiiiiiibat!” Damian immediately perked up, and looked to the door, “Damian?” Jay peaked his head through the door, and then seemed to realize Jason was awake and straightened up, “Oh. uh, Hi! I’m sorry if he woke you up.” Damian immediately ran to Jay and jumped into his arms.

Jason laughed at the sight. Dick is probably going to melt once he sees the pair. “Trust me, I’m used to it. He comes to my apartment at 2 a.m. demanding food.” Everyone does and it’s annoying. Like, Dick can cook too. So can Steph and Duke, and even Damian depending on the food. Why would they go to someone they don’t really like? Or trust? Jason shook his head, “How long have I been out?”

“A little over two days. Your Bruce and Dick wouldn’t leave your side, until Alfred had to shoo them away to get some food and sleep.” Jay chewed the inside of his cheek. “They, uh, they were looking at him kinda funny. Is… nevermind.” For all Jason’s faults, he was usually really good at reading people. He wasn’t as good as Cass, but he was pretty good. He had to be, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived as long as he did on the streets. If only he was able to read Sheila “Alfred left some clothes out for you. He’s in the kitchen right now, so once you’re done… yeah.” Jay turned to leave.

That was a lot more awkward than the last Jason they met who was this age. Actually, he was pretty sure this Jason was older. Though, he always felt more confident as Robin. He could always pretend to be more outgoing while dressed like a traffic light.

Jason was a bit wobbly on his feet, but he found the clothes Alfred laid out for him. They were probably Bruce's if he wasn’t mistaken.

Then he realized what sweatshirt specifically had been laid out for him.

It was a vintage Gotham Knight’s sweatshirt that Jason remembered wearing all the time in the cave. It had always been way too big on him, and Bruce tried to buy him one that would fit better, but there was something about Bruce’s sweatshirt specifically– maybe because it was vintage, or maybe because it was Bruce’s– that was comforting.

He tried to find it once when he went back to the cave, usually he kept it in his locker, but he had found it empty. With no trace that Jason was once Robin, besides that stupid memorial. He assumed Bruce threw everything out.

While Jason took a shower, he debated wearing the sweatshirt, but ultimately decided against it. Jason’s was long gone. And he was fine with that. He had his own time with his. This one belonged to Jay.

And then, it hit him like a freight train.

Alfred.

Alfred was here. Alfred was alive .

And, he made it to the kitchen, but… he couldn’t make it past the door. Not when the scene looked like it was pulled directly from his childhood. Jay on a stepstool so he could comfortably reach the counter, Alfred next to him giving him nods every time Jay looked to him for confirmation. The Beatles playing in the background.

And just seeing Alfred reminded him of how much he missed him.

Damian was sitting on one of the bar stools with a bunch of colored pencils and paper spread out in front of him.

Alfred finally seemed to notice him, “Ah, Master Jason. Glad to see you awake and about.” Even his voice was the same.

That was the thing about Alfred, no matter how much time had passed, he still stayed the same. The way he stood, the way he spoke. Every hair on his head, every line in his face. Jason had genuinely thought Alfred was immortal. Guess he was wrong .

Alfred moved to the fridge and pulled out a glass container of pasta salad. “Dinner is at six, though since you missed the last few meals, I would be amenable to fixing up something you would like.”

Jason placed the Gotham Knights sweatshirt on the backrest of the chair next to Damian, and sat in the next seat, glancing at the clock. It was currently 3:00, “I think I’ll be good for now, Alfred. Thank you.” Though, Jason wasn’t just saying thank you for the food. He was saying, thank you for all the years you’ve taken care of me, thank you for giving me a real childhood, thank you for being someone who believed in me.

Alfred gave him a knowing smile, as he scooped out some pasta into a bowl. Because maybe Alfred was a mind reader. Jason was pretty sure that held true across universes.

Jason started eating as he made a mental note of things. They’d already been in this universe for a lot longer than the other ones. They were even at the Wings Universe for noticeably longer. And then he stopped mid bite.

Alternate reality Jason had Seraphim Wings.

Maybe… No. Jason couldn’t’ve been an angel, especially not a seraphim. Not before he died, and definitely not after. It was just a different reality. It wasn’t even him .

Little Damian poked Jason’s cheek, “Big Jay-Akhi?”

Oh, this child was too cute. “Hm?”

“Can I see your magical swords?”

Jason scratched the back of his neck, “Uh, sorry kiddo. I can’t exactly summon them without the presence of pure evil. But I can tell you how your Umi was the one who brought me to this place called the Acres of All where I learned how to use it.”

He saw Jay’s mouth drop, “Wait, seriously? When?”

Egh.. that was a foggy time period, “I think I was… 17? Yeah, because I was 18 by the time I was back in Gotham, and that was after… yeah, I should’ve been 17.”

Jay beamed, and leapt off the stool he was on, darting towards the kitchen entrance, because Bruce(the younger one) was leaning against the doorframe, “Ya hear that, Old Man? I’m gonna get magical swords of my own! Oh my god, I’m gonna have to make up a new vigilante name! Wait–” Jay looked back at Jason, “What do you go by? What does your suit look like? Do you still stay in Gotham? Or do you work from wherever you go to college? Where do you go to college? Cus I’ve been thinking of Princeton since I could still come back to Gotham every weekend to see Damian and I would be close enough to help if there was an Arkham breakout, but I was also thinking NYU because then I could see Dick more often, and maybe help out the Titans. Am I aiming too high? I mean, afterall I didn’t really go to middle school, but my grades have been really good, and obviously you know that, you’re me, and I’ve been thinking if I had a really good essay, I could probably get into any good school. Not to mention Bruce said he’d pay for tuition, but I wanna know that I got into the school because I was good, not because Bruce has a lot of money, ya know?”

“Um…” Static filled Jason’s ears. He had to sit on his hands because they had gone cold. His whole body had gone cold, why was the manor so cold?

He was also sweating. Why was he sweating if he was so cold? His heart was pounding. Did he just come back from patrol?

He huffed out a breath and closed his eyes. He knew himself. He knew that school and college, and a future was something every version of himself would’ve wanted.

Yeah, no, Jason’s not gonna think about that. He’s gonna go back to making a mental checklist. He no longer had his kris. That was embedded in a hyena’s forehead.

Did his Bruce still have the duffel with their suits in it? Or were they just running around in civvies from here on out?

Jason no longer had his helmet or gloves. He had left those behind when he was holding a crying Tim. Which honestly sucked because if they got stuck in a reality that dropped below freezing, his fingers were going to be useless and in pain for the next 24 hours after that.

Alfred placed a grounding hand on Jason’s elbow, “I believe we should hold off on interrogating the older Master Jason until he fully wakes up.”

Jason snapped back into the real world and realized everyone was looking at him funny.

No clue why though. He was perfectly fine.

But his Bruce and Dick were now in the room, and so was Talia, so he looked to her, “You wouldn’t happen to have any spare knives on you? I kinda lost mine a couple dimensions ago.”

Talia gave him a fond smile, and then a pointed look towards Alternate reality Bruce, “I was told not to give you anymore blades that weren’t approved by your father beforehand.”

Jay sat in the seat in between Jason and Damian, “She gave me a squiggly knife for my birthday. And then Bruce had a cow.”

Jason nodded, “Batcow.” And then blinked, “Oh, wait, you were talking about the expression. Not Damian’s pet. I thought you meant Bruce took away the kris and got you a cow instead.”

Suddenly Bruce was faced with a pair of double puppy eyes from both Damian and Jay, and Jason realized the chaos he had caused.

Jay sat on his hands and kicked his legs, tripling the cuteness factor, “Maybe not a cow, but at least a dog?”

Damian got off his chair and gave Bruce the drawing he was working on, “Please, Baba ? We can also get a pony in case the dog gets lonely. Like Dickie-Akhi and Jay-Akhi. We can then get a kitten when the doggy leaves because dogs don’t like cats.”

He saw both Bruce's fold, and Bruce had better hope their Damian never asks to get a pony, because Jason will bring up this moment.

“Wait, why am I the pony?” Jay had his head tilted to the side.

“Because you’re Ponyboy! From the story!”

The Outsiders?

Jay hummed, “I always saw myself in Johnny.”

Jason shoveled the rest of the pasta into his mouth, even though all it tasted like was ash. He could only half pay attention to what the rest of the conversation was.

“…Wasn’t that the one who killed someone?”

“It was an accident, and it was also in self defense.”

“Jay-Akhi, you can’t be Johnny. He dies.”

“Saving kids from a fire wouldn’t be the worst way to go out.”

Jason’s ears were ringing.

His heart dropped. Just like Garzonas over the edge of a balcony. A man he didn’t push, but he didn’t save.

A shiver ran up his spine, yet his ears felt like they were on fire. His whole body felt like it was on fire. He was trapped under a smoldering rebar, and the only thing he could smell was smoke and burning flesh.

Abruptly he stood up, “I’m… gonna… go back to bed.” He was about to bolt out of the room when he turned back to Alfred, and offered him a tight smile. “Thank you.”

And he stumbled out of the kitchen.

Jason was bundled up in three blankets, but his chest wouldn’t expand, his heart was now pulsing in his throat, and he still felt cold. Too cold. He was on fire, he was covered with burns. He was riddled with frostbite. Every bone in his body was crushed. He was bleeding. Bleeding out of his neck. His hands were coated with sticky red. Red, red, red. The air was too thick– He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

There was laughing, laughing, laughing, something was eating him alive, but he wasn’t alive. He was just a doll. A doll with a voice box that sang, ‘only the good die young, only the good die young! Onlythegooddieyoung! ONLYTHEGOODDIEYOUNG!’ over and over and over again dissonant against the laughter that wouldn’t stop.

Nope.

Jason does not have to deal with this. They were currently on a mission. A really long mission, sure, but they were on a mission. He didn’t have time to panic. In fact, the only reason he was currently panicking about a book was because he was just tired. Even though he slept for two days. Though, in his defense, his soul almost decided to Houdini out of…existence.

His soul.

His wings.

They had completely wrecked Angel Jason’s wings. They had broken his soul. Even if the angel had survived, who knew if he would ever be the same again.

Either way his soul was shattered into too many pieces. His soul. He was broken .

He felt the corner of his bed dip, the sweet smell of jasmine filling the air, as fingers ran through his hair.

Talia.

Safety.

‘Ana huna

“You have always said Robin was magic. Though, Richard always said that magic came from you. I guess he was right.” Talia puffed out a soft breath that could only be heard as fond.

It tickled the back of his brain. The part that would always be frozen in time. Watching the last second on the timer. The part that knew something came after that and before that Halloween, but he could not remember what was there. The part that knew there was something in between the coffin and the Lazarus pit, but the pieces were too fractured to put together.

“Jason, tayirati alsaghira,” My little bird, “You still make the same face when you are trying not to think of something that haunts you. I will not pretend to know you as I know my Jason…” She trailed off, as she thought carefully of her next words, “just know I do not plan on letting anything happen to my sons. None of them, no matter the Universe.” She continued to brush his hair behind his ear, “You are safe as long as I am here.”

Jason curled in on himself, “‘Ana huna.” I am here.

It was a phrase buried deep within his mind.

“Yes, ‘ana huna.” He could almost hear Talia’s fond smile, “ ‘Ana huna.”

And if Jason let himself zone out, he could almost picture himself back at the league.

A husk of a boy. Sitting in a grass field while the promise of ‘ana huna was softly whispered in his ear. A time when he was too hollow to hurt. Too hurt to feel. Oddly, it was probably the best period of his post-mortem life. Mainly because he didn’t remember it at all.

And with Talia there, whispering ‘ana huna, Jason could just forget.

He could forget.

Jason ended up coming down to help Alfred make dinner. They were making Biryani– Jason’s idea– and it was weird.

It was weird because Jason knew this wasn’t his Alfred. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He had to keep reminding himself that his Alfred was no longer able to cook besides him in this kitchen because of Bane.

Yet, cooking alongside Alfred always felt comfortable. It always felt right . He never felt like he had to live up to any expectations whenever he was around Alfred.

He knew he could just be.

Except, Alfred was giving him that look that meant he knew something was up, and was waiting patiently for Jason to tell him. Honestly, it was a near constant look on Alfred’s face– whether that be towards Bruce, or Dick, or anyone.

When Jason was younger, he used to wonder if Alfred was a time traveler. Since he died, he just thinks Alfred could read minds.

Or Alfred just knows them all really well.

The rice was already cooking and Jason started frying the onions in a pan alongside the spices. He and Alfred worked well in silence, it’s just that, Jason wanted to say something. He just didn’t know what.

“Alfred?”

Alfred handed Jason the chopped tomatoes, “Yes, my boy?”

“If–” Jason cut himself off and frowned as he slid the tomatoes into the pan, “Nothin’.” and then he realized that it would be a bit too obvious if Jason wanted Alfred to drop the look. “I was just wondering if you could eat at the table with us tonight?”

Alfred gave him that smile that meant he wouldn’t normally do what Jason’s asking him to, but will because he knows Jason needs it. “Just tonight.”

Dinner was… interesting.

Jason could tell that both Bruces wanted to talk about interdimensional travel, but Alfred had a strict no cave work in the manor policy. (the policy had been tossed out the window by the time he came back from the dead, but oh well.)

Jason was sitting next to Talia who was feeding Damian as he babbled about different animals and people named the Kratt brothers? Though, it was really sweet to watch. Mainly because he knew this wasn’t something that would happen between their Talia and Damian.

Dick was looking down at his plate, like it had personally offended him, and Alfred was sitting at the head of the table with both Jasons to either side of him.

Jay was looking at Jason with a question on his face, “How come your Bruce lets you get away with the white streak?”

Out of all the Jasons who were Robins, he’s surprised he hasn’t been asked that question earlier, “As if Bruce has any control over me.” Jason glanced to Dick and back to Jay, hopefully projecting, He still doesn’t know about the vitiligo, as much as he could, “I also wear a helmet.”

Jay also glanced at Dick and grinned, “Is it because of your magical swords? Or do you just dye it? Ya know, you should dye it a different color. Like… I was gonna say green, but it’ll look horrible once it fades, but maybe… purple.”

Jason hummed, “Maybe.” He looked to Dick, “Ya think I could get Steph in on it too?”

Dick glared at Jason. It was a glare filled with such temperance, Jason had to hold back a flinch.

Jay turned to face Dick, while leaning slightly back. “Who’s Steph?”

Like a lightswitch, Dick’s glare softened, “She’s our current Batgirl.”

So he was angry with Jason. Why was he angry with him? He thought they were getting better.

The Batgirl comment seemed to deflate Jay’s mood, “So Babs doesn’t…”

“No, she doesn’t.” A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over Jay’s face before settling on worry, “But honestly, she’s much more bada–” Dick glanced at Damian, “-wesome. Awesome, she’s much more awesome now. She’s basically our eyes and ears. She mans the coms, and sends us to wherever we’re needed. She’s kinda our guardian… angel now.” Dick looked back at his plate, pushing around some rice.

Jay rolled his eyes, sensing the tone shift at the end, “Please tell me you two aren’t also fighting. Because I came off of a phone call a couple days ago with my big brother telling him how much of a big idiot he was, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself.”

Dick gave him a little chuckle, and ruffled Jay’s hair, “Nah, kiddo, we’ve been just friends for the better part of the decade.”

“That’s what you say about Wally and Roy, yet I still see both of their clothes in your room.”

“Everyone’s clothes are everywhere in Titans Tower. You know that.” Jay looked like he wanted to continue to poke fun at Dick and his relationships, but Dick cut him off, “Steph! Is actually really cool. She was her own hero for a time, and then she was Robin, and then went on to be Batgirl. She’s basically Damian’s big sister, but Bruce won’t adopt her.”

Jay nodded, “So like…Babs but blonde?” and then paused, “I don’t treat Steph how you treat Babs, right?”

Jason grimaced, “Nah, I could never pull a Tim. She deserves better.”

“Who’s Tim?”

Bruce (the old man,) finally pitched into the conversation, “Do you have a small kid with a camera who follows you around as Robin?”

Jay nodded.

Jason blinked, “Hold up, is Tim a little stalker in every universe except for ours?”

Bruce’s face twisted like he was adding something to his mental tally, “No. Ours did too. You were the one who told me about him. Though, I didn’t believe you, until Tim showed up on our doorstep.”

“Huh. I guess I forgot.” Jason scratched his head and frowned. How could he have forgotten? Jason hasn’t forgotten any of the alley kids he meets on patrol, or the people he’s saved from muggings, or anything. He might not know some of their names, but he could never forget their faces. How in tarnation did he forget Tim running around from roof to roof with a camera?

What else does he not remember?

The rest of dinner passed, Jay offered to get Damian ready for bed, while Alfred washed the dishes. The rest of them headed down to the cave.

Jason had to do a double take, because this cave was nothing like their cave, and it definitely didn’t look like the cave he knew when he was younger.

First off, there was a swing near the computer. There was also the normal batcomputer chair, but Jason just wasn’t expecting there to be a swing. Vaguely, in the back of his mind he remembered sitting on a swing with a sleeping kid leaning on him as the sun set. Second, there were no weapons out on racks, and most of the sharp corners were either blunted or covered with foam. Third, there was one of those toy cars that a kid could ride in, that was painted to look like the batmobile. Along with a pretty large Thomas the Train track set, and a bin of legos.

So, really the main difference between this batcave and their batcave, was that this one was baby proofed.

“Jason, would you mind if I took a sample of your blood? Just a blood test, nothing else.” Young Bruce led them towards the medbay, while Talia, Dick and Older Bruce made their way to the computer

Jason frowned, “Why… didn’t you do that when I was unconscious?” He figured Mr. Paranoid would’ve done that already.

“You passed out due to magical interference. I did not want to… complicate your status.” Bruce opened a drawer and pulled out a sterile needle, tube, and tourniquet. “And I know you don’t like having needles placed in you without your knowledge. Unless that’s just something my Jason doesn’t appreciate.”

Jason sat on the cot and rolled up his sleeve, “Nah, you’re right. I’m just… I’m fine if it’s you.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, while grabbing a bandaid (Wonder Woman themed) and an alcohol wipe, “What about Alfred? Or Leslie?”

“They go without saying.” They were the ones who figured it’d be better to make a routine while bringing needles around Jason. It’s not a distraction, just reassurance nothing’s been tampered with. Jason doesn’t really need people to do that for him anymore, not since he’s had more traumas that have made unsterile needles seem juvenile, but the thought is still nice.

“What about Talia and Dick.” Bruce tied the tourniquet around Jason’s upper arm.

“Dick hasn’t tried in… a really long time. He tried to distract me, and I kicked him in the face. Though, I dunno about Talia. I trust her with my life, but I don’t remember how that trust was built.”

“Hnm.” That was his mentally tally for something off grunt.

Bruce started putting together the needle and tube in front of Jason. He felt around for his vein, then disinfected Jason’s arm, “One… Two… Three.”

There was a slight pinch, but other than that, Jason was fine.

Jason’s fears were weird like that. He’s not afraid of the Joker, but his heart stops whenever he sees a blonde with a bob on the streets. He’s not claustrophobic from the coffin, but the feeling of dirt under his fingernails sends a shudder throughout his whole body. He’s not afraid of needles, he’s afraid of what’s attached to it.

Bruce took the needle out, stuck the bandaid on, and disposed of the gloves he was using. Then he offered Jason a smile, “I like that you decided to grow the white out. Reminds me of a tiny little boy who hit me with a tire iron and called me a big boob.”

Jason opened his mouth and then closed it, Not his Bruce He hopped off the cot. Jason gave him a little smile back, as they both headed back to the batcomputer.

They were planning on building a beacon of sorts. Older Bruce already had a couple of designs sketched out, and had made a list of materials that would be needed to make said device. Most of them they could find, but some of them Jason knew they wouldn’t be able to get their hands on unless the universe was a couple years in the future. Or they went on a deep space adventure, which they couldn’t because that would take too much time. Time they didn’t know they had.

Jason was currently sitting in the study, across from Bruce. It was just them in the manor. Talia had left for work at Wayne Enterprises, Alfred was currently dropping off Jason and Damian at school. Dick and Younger Bruce were out gathering materials.

Dick, who was still upset with Jason. What did he do? Dick hasn’t been this mad at Jason since Jason was in his villain arc. As far as Jason knew, they were fine back in the Wings universe. And he was concked for the past two days, and Dick’s been avoiding him since then, so it had to be something that happened over there.

Unless he said something wrong while he was asleep– but he doesn’t sleep talk. Maybe it was something he did?

Since no one else was in the manor with them, they decided to update the chart of Universes they’ve been to. On a real piece of paper.

This time they were just titled Jason 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8. He couldn’t find it in him to give each of them snarky nicknames.

Most of it stayed the same, if they were Robin or not, their Age, the place where they died, how they died. Though they decided to add the differences between each of the universes, and how long they were in each universe.

“Got any theories on why we’ve been in this universe much longer than the other ones?” Sure, they had also been in the Wings Universe longer than the other universes, six hours, though that’s still a lot less than three days.

“Dick seems to think that because the beam directly hit you, where we go is somewhat attached to you.”

Jason nodded. It made sense… but at the same time it didn’t. If the beam was magic, it would make more sense, but it seemed to be just tech gone wrong, “And you?”

Bruce looked at him, but too many years of miscommunication must have passed between them, because the only thing he could read on Bruce’s face was a mixture of grief and relief, “Jason hasn’t…”

“Well, Sherlock, couldn't've figured that one out.” Jason tapped the pen on the table, “but usually we’re sent back a little before the incident starts. The first one we were in the warehouse a couple minutes before Robin arrived. The second Jason was actively freezing to death, the third Jason was an hour before he got hit by the car, tops. The fourth one was also a little under an hour before the manor got swarmed, the fifth one was seconds before I came back to life. The sixth one was– we were in the room while… The lamb was an active member of-of the food chain, while we just sat there . And baby Jay was probably spooning cocaine into his mout h as we– as she –” Jason shut his mouth. He felt like he was going to throw up. “She didn’t even care.” Jason underlined the age of baby Jay on their list. “She left her four year old son alone . In the apartment. With drugs in reach . She didn’t care , Bruce.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, but it still didn’t stop his mouth from twitching downwards, so he let out a little laugh. “I’ve– I’ve spent the last eight years trying to make excuses for her. That she was being blackmailed by the Joker, she was young and wasn’t ready to be a- a mother, that the world was just out to get her, but she– my mom – Catherine, the one who raised me– she would’ve never let that happen. Any of it. She wouldn’t’ve– up until the very end she didn’t even let me near– ” Jason pressed his lips together, his eyes burning with shame at the stupid, naive, fifteen year old version of himself who was desperately clawing at any ounce of acceptance he could find. “ Mami wouldn’t have sold me out.” it came out barely above a whisper.

Bruce reached his hand across the desk, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Jason shook his head, “I want to tell you. God, Bruce I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. But at the same time, I didn’t?” He set down the pen and looked into Bruce’s eyes. They used to be a brighter blue. The color of the sky on a good day in Gotham. Now they've turned gray. Jason doesn’t know when it happened. He just knows it was sometime while he was gone. He looked back down at the pen, “Sometimes, it’s just really hard to talk to you. There are so many times that I want to talk to you . To Bruce . Except ever since I’ve come back, it feels like I have to fight Batman just to do that.” Jason shook his head, he knew he had Bruce right now. If he had Batman, he’d be interrogating Jason instead of letting him speak. “Every single day since I could think straight, I’ve regretted how– how desperate I was to meet her. How I didn’t even do any background checks on her or how I didn’t even tell Alfred about it, I just found out and… left. ”

“Jason–”

“Let me finish.” He took in a breath, “It was reckless, it wasn’t thought through, I was so… willing to trust her even though that was the worst mistake of my life. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Jason, she led you into a false sense of security, it wasn’t your fault–”

“It wasn’t my fault? Bruce, I knew better than that! The first thing you learn as a Alley kid is don’t talk to people you don’t know or you’ll end up dead in a ditch . I literally found three contacts in Papi’s phone with names I didn’t even know, and left halfway across the world to ask a secret agent– Who I didn’t even know– if she was my mother, and I should’ve stopped then, but I then asked Lady Shiva ? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Bruce stood up and rounded the table until he was kneeling in front of him. “Jason, it was not your fault. I’m sorry for ever believing otherwise.”

He shook his head, “I never blamed you for my death. I’ve told you this. You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I’m apologizing for turning you into a cautionary tale. For assuming things about your death.”

Jason looked anywhere but the the man in front of him, “Bruce–”

“Jason, you were 15 years old. You just wanted to get to know a mother you never knew you had. That’s understandable. It is comparatively more tame to what your siblings were doing around that age.” He locked eyes with Jason, “It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child. A child who had to grow up too quickly because none of the adults in your life could give you what you needed. And that includes me.” Bruce held both of Jason’s hands in his. An action that used to completely bury Jason’s hands, but now, both of their hands were relatively the same size. “I know you don’t like it when I… lament over your death, though it’s not just about not making it there in time. It’s because I left you alone with her, it’s because I let you track down Lady Shiva. It’s because I should’ve told you to take a break from Robin in a different way, because I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know how to help you.”

Jason knew his mouth was hanging agape. And then he shut it, “I feel like that’s a recurring theme between us.”

Bruce offered him a small smile. One he hasn’t seen in a while, “We’ll figure it out eventually.”

And Jason knows that Bruce will try. He will try to reach Jason, try to figure out how to get back to him. But there's always that one day. That one day when he feels like they’re almost back to where they were before he died. There’ll always be something . Something that sends it all crashing down. And that something is usually Batman.

He knows that Bruce can never put the cowl down. It’s the same reason why the rest of them can’t either. It’s a special mix of adrenaline and guilt that keeps drawing them back to protecting people. In ways, it’s an addiction of sorts. And Bruce will always choose the addiction of being a hero over any of them.

Still, Jason nods whenever Bruce says he'll try harder. Because Jason is the moon. A cold and dry desolate landscape, and when water-the building block of life- when the oceans try to reach him, he can only try to reach back. He’ll always be grasping for something he’ll never be big enough to pull towards him.

“The real thing we should figure out… eventually, is why in the world did my dad have Lady Shiva in his contacts.”

It didn’t take long for Alfred to come home after that, and Dick and Younger Bruce came home around noon. Both Bruce's got to work on the beacon, while Jason and Dick help Alfred with chores around the house. It definitely made the top three most awkward moments of his life, death and life. Since he was actively trying to ignore the fact that their Alfred was dead and Dick was upset with him.

Jason spared a glance at Dick and found him staring again.

Furious.

Though Alfred definitely knew something Jason didn’t, because he was giving Dick his I know what you’re thinking, but not everyone can read your mind look that he usually reserved for Bruce. Dick glanced from Jason to Alfred, his face contorting into that weird mixture of grief and relief.

Oh.

Jason wasn’t the only one who lost Alfred. So did Dick, and he knew Alfred for much longer than Jason had. Alfred was more of Dick’s constant, than Jason’s. And Dick only seemed angry at Jason after he and Alfred had made dinner together.

He finished vacuuming the living room carpet, “I think I’m gonna head to the library.” and to the library he went.

The first book Jason was about to pick up was the Iliad. Then he remembered where the story of Icarus was from. And Icarus had wings and so do angels–

And they both fell.

They both died.

He shook his head and went to the Jane Austen section, and grabbed Sense and Sensibility. He went to the papasan chair he used to curl up in when he was younger. The one in their manor was gone. He’s now too grown to sit with his legs underneath him, without tipping over the chair, but still, being there in the library, with only a book for company, let him drift to the land of 19th century literature, without worrying about what was going on around them.

He was halfway through the book when Alfred came in, looking more tense than Jason’s ever seen him “the Joker is out of Arkham.”

Naturally . Jason went to put away the book he was reading, “Do we know where–”

“Gotham City Elementary.”

Jason stilled before practically running out of the library and to the cave, Alfred keeping pace with him. Gotham City High School was only a couple blocks away from the Elementary school. And he knew he kept a spare suit in his backpack when he was in high school, just in case a rogue attacked. There was no way he would stay behind if he knew, especially since Damian went to the elementary school.

Jason leaped down the stairs to get to where Younger Bruce was suiting up, and Dick and older Bruce were putting on spare dominoes. Jason reached to grab one too, but Dick swatted his hand away.

Jason reached again, “I’m sorry if you didn’t catch on, but I lost my helmet four realities ago.”

“No.” Dick slapped his hand away again, and fixed Jason with a hard glare, “You’re staying here.”

He blinked, “Excuse me?”

“You’re staying here. That’s final.” Dick strode towards the batmobile.

So Dick was still mad at him. Why was he still upset with him? It couldn’t’ve been the Alfred thing, because he gave them their time. It had to be something before that, “If you’re upset with me for… taking down those wing smugglers, just know the All Blades don’t work on anything that isn’t true evil–”

“I know that. That’s not– we don’t have time for this.”

“Exactly. We don’t have time for this. I’m coming.” Jason opened the drawer to grab a domino, and marched after him.

Dick scoffed, “No, you’re not.”

“Is it because I killed that Hyena version of the Joker ?”

He turned to face him, “No–”

“Then why? Do you not trust me or–”

“I could see you fading, Jason! You almost died! Again! Ok? And you keep dying! Ever since I got back from space and saw on the news that you were dead, I fucking thought that if I was there then–” Dick cut himself off, took a deep breath “Every single universe we go to, you keep dying, and we’re right there, but we can never do anything about it! And it’s not fine, but the only reason I’m not losing my mind over their deaths is that I keep telling myself that you are alive. That they’re not you, because you are my little brother. You keep dying. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Jason shook his head, “Dick… You know I can’t promise you that. Not with our line of work. You couldn’t even keep that promise.”

Dick leveled him with a glare.

This was a losing battle, wasn’t it? Jason went to sit on the swing. “I’ll stay.” they were probably going to leave this universe soon anyway.

He heard their footsteps leave the cave, and the sound of the batmobile driving off.

He knew Alfred sat down next to him, but he didn’t look. They watched the news play from the batcomputer. They watched as Robin led groups of classes out of the school. And then they couldn’t see the little boy dressed in traffic colors.

Alfred grasped his hand

They couldn’t see Batman, or Bruce and Dick enter the building, but he knew more groups of kids were making their way out of the building.

Jason leaned his head against Alfred’s shoulder, as they saw Batman rush out of the roof of the school with a bundle of yellow cradled to his chest. They watched as he grappled away.

Alfred went to prep the Medbay, while Jason knew where this was headed.

So he started collecting their things. Which, throughout their journey had dwindled down to very few things. Jason’s leather jacket. Dick’s phone. Bruce’s wallet. He also gathered some things he thought they would need. The list they made of each universe they’d been to. A copy of the blueprints of the beacon. He had to wander around to find the hidden weapon racks, but he stocked up on shurikens, and grabbed a pair of escrima sticks for Dick. stuffing them in various pockets of his leather jacket.

The engine of the Batmobile sounded through the cave, and before they heard the breaks of the car, they heard the doors swinging open.

And screaming. Blood curdling screams, but it wasn’t coming from Jay. Jason made his way to the batmobile, to find older Bruce sitting with his head against the wheel while Dick held a squirming Damian while sitting in the passenger seat.

“ AKHI! AKHI!! I WANT MY AKHI!”

Dick was attempting to rock Damian, lightly hushing him, but it wasn’t working.

“ Damian .” Bruce said it in a tone that was stern, yet soft. “Damian, your brother is really hurt right now. I know you want to see him, but your father and Alfred are working hard on trying to make him feel better.”

“B-but I want Jay-Akhi !” Damian squirmed again, but with significantly less effort.

They heard the doors to the cave fling open, as heels clacked against the stairs, and then across the floor. There was also the squeak of sneakers,

“Doctor Tompkins, the medbay,” Talia made her way to the batmobile, scooped Damian out of Dick’s arms and made her way over to the swing, setting Damian down, holding his face with both her hand, wiping away his tears, speaking in Arabic “Habibi, I am going to help with Jay-Akhi. Big Jay and Dickie will stay with you here, ok?”

“Is Jay-Akhi gonna be ok?”

“We will see.” Talia placed a kiss on Damian’s forehead, and motioned for older Bruce to follow her.

Jason moved to the batcomputer to play music to distract the boy. There was already a playlist for the boy, filled with mostly lullabies and slower Disney songs. He hit shuffle, and the first song was ‘Ma Belle, Evangeline’ from Princess and the Frog.

Dick sat down next to Damian, as Damian rested his head on Dick’s chest. He held the kid close, and rested his head on top of Damian’s.

The kid had a far off look in his eyes. Like he wasn’t really there with them. It was a look he saw in so many of the kids on the streets of crime alley. He wondered if he had that look when Bruce found him. If he thought being Robin would fix it in the same way it seemed to fix Dick. Being Robin never really fixed any of them though. It just gave them something else to focus on.

Jason grabbed a sticky note that was next to the batcomputer, and wrote Damian’s disassociating. Make sure he has someone to talk to. If not a league therapist, Elaine Thomas is a good option in Gotham. She’s also the mother of a kid you foster in the future. ~JTW

Jason went to sit on the opposite side of Damian, lightly rocking the swing with his foot. Thinking for a moment before asking in French, “ What happened?” Jason was 80 percent sure Damian wasn’t paying attention, but he didn’t want to accidentally trigger him.

Their Damian knew French, and this Damian was probably multilingual, but Jason was certain it was just the main languages spoken in the house. English, Arabic, Spanish, and Romanian.

“ The rest of the class was already out. The… monster made him watch as he beat robin with a crowbar. It was a trap.”

Jason frowned, “How did he know?”

“I don’t know. But he also knew about the lamb.”

Jason stilled. Was the Joker traveling from universe to universe with them? No, because he killed that version.

The heart monitor let out a high pitched whine. Jay was flatlining. Dick looked back to Damian who didn’t have any reaction to the noise. “The crazy man split open his skull and he made him watch.”

Jason leaned his head on Dick’s shoulder. “Talia’s going to kill him.”

“I know.”

The lights to the batcave seemed to get brighter and brighter. Until they were gone.

#jason todd #batman #batfam #dc comics #red hood #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #talia al ghul #bruce and talia #alternate universe #dimensional travel #robin jason todd

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